In praise of the Forest Inn

Last week we scored a first in the sense that we took lunch in the same place, the Forest Inn (reference 1) at Hexworthy, three days running. A place last visited around six months ago (reference 2).

Map one

On the first of the three lunches, we parked the car at the Inn (confusingly a little above the mug sign in the snap above), walked back up the hill and headed west on the Sherberton Road before taking a left down the path about where it says '327'. Making it to a spot of high ground above the ford and footbridge over the Swincombe. Despite being armed with our compass (from Montreal), I was reminded how easy it was to go astray, to miss the odd way marker - when missing one is enough. With the sky being a bit threatening, I was also reminded that out on the moor, it was a good plan to carry some proper gear: waterproof over trousers, water, iron rations, a few plasters (against the occasional blister) and so forth. And given that we own two small rucksacks, either of which would be entirely suitable, no excuse next time.

On the moor - one

On the moor - two

Some parties of children from Launceston College, with the leader telling that they had come from Princeton - and that some of the parties would be walking back later in the day. A fair hike, particularly if it did come on to rain. With the college more properly being called the 'Launceston College Multi Academy Trust', so they have cut off the shackles of the local education authority and are free to do their market forces' worst. Will Corbie the Crow ever get the opportunity to roll back this particular piece of Tory nonsense?

Quite a lot of skylarks and one pair of low flying, large brown birds. Too far away and too fast to work out what they were.

Holiday cottage

Back on the lane, a serious shower and I was glad to have carried my umbrella, even if I did lose its rope (reference 4). Plus a holiday cottage which looked to have been built in the fifties, if not before, to judge by the modest size of the garage, much the same as the originals in our road, built in the twenties and thirties, matching the austerity vehicles of their times. We thought that, at the time of building, probably no mains services. They told us at the Inn that people did come from time to time, so not abandoned.

Substantial caterpillar

Plus a substantial caterpillar, head right in the snap above, moving at a good speed across the lane.

And so into the Inn, to find that they could offer liver and bacon with vegetables, unusual in the casual dining establishments which we tend to patronise, and which we both took, with sparkling water. And very good it was too. Followed in my case by an entirely respectable slice of lemon meringue pie.

There was a party of Guardian readers in the next room, very much our age, and I was reminded, not for the first time, how silly other peoples' conversations can sound, particularly, it seems, when the conversation might so easily have been one's own.

Combestone one

Combestone two

Stopped at Combestone Tor (around 356 metres) on the way home, but too wet and windy to stay long.

Home to a fine rainbow out of our bedroom window, which prompted revision on how rainbows worked and in which direction our bedroom window pointed - being confused on this last by the apparent alignment of the shadows cast from the hedgerow trees in the middle distance. Pleased that my telephone managed the Internet - and so Wikipedia on rainbows - even if my laptop couldn't. Progress since last year, when I am fairly sure the telephone did not manage the Internet. Eventually decided that the bedroom window pointed roughly east, back over the Dart towards Ashburton.

Assorted beverages

Took a drop of a new to us wine from Pellehaut (reference 5) in the evening. Maybe a spot of a fine blended whisky called Chivas Regal too - a staple of the saloon bar trade in the days when public houses had saloon bars. We enjoyed the wine and wondered why it had opted for 'indication géographique protegée' rather than more usual 'appellation controllée'. Wikipedia explained that the latter was subject to widespread abuse and that maybe the former, from those dreadful jobsworths in Brussels, was maybe a better bet.

The only downside of the wine was that the advertisement breaks on ITV3 seemed even more frequent than usual, although the advertisements probably only took their allotted 33% of the time. Perhaps we have got too used to DVD's - which in Epsom at least, remain a very economical option, available from CeX Ltd.

And so endeth the first lesson.

The second lesson started with a visit to Tuckers - a sort of foodie emporium which has moved from Ashburton to Buckfast. Started with cash from a Post Office lady who was pretending to be a cash machine. She also had a Guardian. Onto Tuckers, where we declined the foodie bread on the grounds that it was all sour dough and took something more ordinary coming from a small industrial estate factory near Totnes or somewhere like that. Perfectly satisfactory.

Onto the holy shop at Buckfast Abbey where I fell for a couple of bottles of Austrian Gewürztraminer, not yet opened. Plus we stocked up on their tonic wine, coming in flat bottles which suit the side pockets of an gentleman's overcoat quite well. A quick visit to the Abbey itself where I was annoyed that the pattern of the floor underneath the Barbarossaleuchter had not been centred underneath the point of suspension. Seemed rather a waste, given that both the geometrically patterned stone floor and the replica Barbarossaleuchter were very good, separately. Furthermore, the point of suspension was not in the middle of one of the ceiling bosses, rather a hole in the ceiling, just to the side of a boss. Poor detailing, to which I shall return in due course.

Sad tablet

A rather sad story was told by the tablet snapped above. Very much giving the lie to the rather offensive yarn that I once heard that the First World War was fought by the working classes on behalf of the upper classes, who so managed things that very few of their own were killed, and certainly no senior officers. With their being some truth in the yarn, but not much. With a variation on the same theme to be found at reference 7.

Horned Moses

Interested to find another horned Moses, something first noticed at reference 8. Interesting that they should choose to perpetuate this story, long discredited, in this relatively new build abbey. Notice also the water trouble, top left.

Picked up BH's brother from his flat nearby and carried him off to Hexworthy. Some fine rainbows, several donkeys, Coombestone Tor, Hexworthy Bridge and the Forest Inn. Where we all partook of a rather good turkey and ham pie - or something of that sort. Possibly with the same vegetables as the day before. Again very good. And I took another slice of lemon meringue pie. A very pleasant young barman, who seemed to be well travelled, was well spoken, had lost the accents from up north that he should have had and who, we thought, possibly had a military background. Which might explain the extensive tattooing.

Participated in a helpful review meeting at Hapstead House (aka Camphill), later in the afternoon. Giving us some insight, inter alia, into the likely workings of the care quality commission.

And so endeth the second lesson.

Moor one

Moor two

Moor three

Moor four

Moor five

Moor six

Started the next day with a short walk out of the cottage, on Holne Moor. Plenty of skylarks and crows. With a selection of the rotating on the spot snaps included above.

The end

Map two

The end of the male half of a field gate hinge

Shortly thereafter, I had to admit that I had lost the path down to Michelcombe. I had intended to be on the green path involving the Wheal Emma Leat, but actually my position relative to the Great Coombe was quite uncertain and I had to retrace my steps, rather than get lost down the valley ahead.

After my return, our company turned up and after a certain amount of palaver - which involved the treacle flapjacks taking a serious hit - carried them off to the Forest Inn for the third lesson. Liver and bacon again. But, as I was neither driving nor walking, a spot of Sauvignon Blanc instead of lemon meringue pie. And one of our number chickened out of the liver and opted for what he thought was the safer lasagne. We were not so sure.

A different barman on this occasion, one who appeared to read a good deal and to play a good deal of chess - chess which extended to a club perhaps in Newton Abbot and congresses perhaps in Torquay. Clearly well above my standard. He also told us about the (catch and return) fly fishing rights, owned by the Inn, down at the bridge.

Cows

On the way home, took in some brown cows, rather larger and healthier looking than I had expected, out on the moor.

Near home, various small brown birds in the hedge, with two white flashes along their tails, which I did not recognise. I felt sure that I had seen such white flashes in the same area before, but, on checking, the previous bird turned out to have been a green woodpecker. Not the present case at all.

At home, various small brown birds on the feeders, with long tails, which I did not recognise. And they did not give me the opportunity to stare.

And so endeth the third lesson. Back again to the Forest Inn next spring!

Reference 1: http://forestinndartmoor.co.uk/.

Reference 2: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2019/05/hexworthy.html.

Reference 3: https://psmv2.blogspot.com/2014/10/the-quest-for-new-compass.html.

Reference 4: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2019/10/art-work.html.

Reference 5: https://www.pellehaut.com/gb/14-wines.

Reference 6: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2017/10/canopy.html.

Reference 7: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2018/01/haig-one.html.

Reference 8: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2019/08/wash-up-from-other-island.html.