Saturday 8 August 2026. We are repeating a holiday taken three years ago, although this time there are only enough photos to warrant a single page due to the knackered demeanor of one of the participants (er... that would be me...) and the fact that my hands shake a bit much for taking all that many decent photos on a screen. Especially when I can't see what I'm taking on the phone screen in bright sunlight!
So with a quick sneaky (because we haven't got there yet) photo of Sidmouth promenade, we hop on a coach from local firm G-Line finding the same driver as three years ago, Andrew, in charge. The journey down was marred when a bad accident occurred ahead on the motorway, causing massive hold-ups. We pulled onto the A-roads but of course they were getting choked anyway and a poor chap at the front of the coach had some sort of brainstorm due to early Alzheimer’s and he started shouting that we men all needed to do something because our wives were being "attacked" (not quite what his words were).
Many of the women onboard were a bit frightened at this, his poor wife told us later she thought that she was going to have a heart attack because of it. Andrew, very wisely, just calmly told us what the issue with the motorway was and that there was nothing he could do that he hadn't already. As the chap was in the front seats just behind him, he must have been wondering whether the shouting at its peak may have turned violent but thankfully no. We later heard that someone lost their life in the motorway accident, so it had been the right decision to come off onto the normal roads in any case.
Sunday 9 August 2026. The following day was a trip to Exmouth and a boat trip along the coast from there almost east to Sidmouth again and back. I didn't want to put too much strain on the legs before the boat trip so we found ourselves sitting in what in Italy would be a piazza but what in Exmouth would be best called an "avoid the drunk druggies shouting and fighting each other". They were there last time as well, so three years of spoiling for ordinary folks what could be a quiet attractive haven near the indoor market...
We found our way to the queue for the boat and sat on the upper deck and I found myself sitting next to a fairly young couple from somewhere either in or near Ely, the cathedral city in Cambridgeshire. They were a lovely couple and we spent much of the journey chatting away. They were serving cream teas on the boat but we decided the risk was a bit much on a moving platform so stuck to a soft drink. Lots of cormorants and gannets and other gulls and I managed to spot a puffin sitting on the top of one of the high rock sea stacks, the first I've managed to see despite various boat captains along the east coast claiming the place was swarming with them!
On the coach as we turned back onto the coast road Andrew suddenly said, "oh there's a cliff fall in front!" and we saw a large cloud of red sandstone dust rising into the air. After our evening meal we had a wander up the coast to see evidence of several falls, but my money is on the far one jutting into the sea.
Monday 10 August 2026. The resulting effect on the sea itself is clearly seen here as the sea turned red/brown with the sandstone dust right out almost to the horizon where a sharp contrasting blue line betrays the true sea colour.
Tuesday 11 August 2026. Even the beach itself did not escape the change in colour. Though the cliffs are sandstone, the beach at Sidmouth is pebbled. The photo looks towards the west, to the cliffs of Peak Hill. Erosion of the cliff face here has also eroded an iron age fort on the hill.
My one and only sketch for the week. It was started in Sidmouth but finished once back at home. Consequently in order to remember the scene properly I always take a photograph to refer to afterwards and in this case it was the first photo in this article. Just in case you want to compare to see the obvious mistakes...
The last morning begins with a look at the hotel for the week, the Royal York and Faulkner Hotel. Like lots of large seaside hotels these days it is more of a reminder of hotels of your youth (if you are already of pensionable age) than ultra-modern. Younger people can recoil in horror or just mild fright as the clock strikes every quarter of an hour with a decisive and unapologetic set of chimes. There is Wi-Fi provided. In some cases that is "provided you are in a part of the hotel it reaches".
They were training at least three new young staff members in the dining room but they were eager to please, in some cases more so than the older established waiting staff who glared meaningfully at a jug of hot milk when we asked for more milk for our breakfast cereal. In the event it took so long we had asked again and received a jug well before the head waiter turned up with some cold milk. By then not only had we finished with the cereals but any cooked breakfast as well.
We shared our breakfast and dinner table with a lovely Irish couple who enlivened our holiday so much - thank you Pat and Mary!
She who looks after me, Miss Franny taking a last sniff at the air on the southern coast before breakfast on our day of travel back to Lancashire.
And the old gimmer himself - bloody hell, is that *ME*??? I recently got fed up of all the adverts for these hats on Facebook but they did look good and I ordered two, this blue one and a beige one to match my head. I have to say they are far more comfortable and suitable than baseball caps for such a distinguished figure as myself. Sorry... did I say "distinguished"? I meant "barely hanging together"...
Until the next time......
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