Despite the terrible weather promised inevitably by a British Bank Holiday, I had agreed to meet my mother at Two Bridges. To Two Bridges we went, therefore, and were greeted, to the joy of the hounds, by the return of blue skies. And Rosie got some left-over scone while we were drinking tea at the Two Bridges hotel, which pleased her.
I keep forgetting how close Dartmoor is. I must make the effort to drive the extra 10 minutes or so more often.
I keep forgetting how close Dartmoor is. I must make the effort to drive the extra 10 minutes or so more often.
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I hope the wind blew away all the flies, Brythen!
Rosie must be always onlead on Dartmoor though, because no matter how wide the land, she can cover it way too fast if she should see a target. And she would!
Dartmoor is on my list of places to get to one day, but it's a long way away!
No mountains though, alas!
Since all I know of Dartmoor is "The Hound of the Baskervilles," I consulted Wikipedia:
"Dartmoor is known for its myths and legends. It is reputedly the haunt of pixies, a headless horseman, a mysterious pack of 'spectral hounds', and a large black dog, among others. During the Great Thunderstorm of 1638, the moorland village of Widecombe-in-the-Moor was even said to have been visited by the Devil."
Oh why am I here and not there?
...lest I come across as overly cream-tea-obsessed, the other significant memory is that there were alpacas in the field adjoining the car-park :-)