GOING TO DARTMOOR, AND YET...

Going To Dartmoor, And Yet…

It was usually just one day from ten

But it was never really anticipated

By a lad who adored the sea;

Dartmoor meant no beach,

No ocean, no Tinside Pool in Plymouth

And it simply wasn’t where I wanted to be…

And yet…

There was Denham Bridge,

Where I would be encouraged

To paddle up to my knees

In the rather cold River Tavy,

So clean and overhung by trees…

And yet…

There was Widecombe, 

Where I would be absorbed

In Uncle Tom Cobley, the famous Fair

And Dartmoor Prison, grim and dour,

Its appearance designed to scare…  

And yet…

There was Haytor Rocks,

With thrilling boulders to climb

And scale with careful feet

And Yelverton, Princetown, Burrator,

Plus the Clapper Bridge at Dartmeet…

And yet…

There were picnics grand,

Games of cricket for all

And diving, a crazy catch to make,

Then pots of tea, sandwiches, tinned fruit

And wondrous slices of home-made cake…

It was generally a good day from ten,

Despite never being anticipated

By a lad who adored the sea;

Dartmoor was no beach

But a fine day out from Plymouth:

Open, natural, atmospheric and free…

Pete Ray

May 2020

Never used to look forward to spending a day on Dartmoor as a kid because I wanted to spend time by the sea, but whenever I did go, I loved it…

A pencil decorated with images of Tom Cobley and the other fellows going to Widecombe Fair astride a mare was bought for me there.

The prison was looked at from a distance with some trepidation…

The dog Trixie, in the accompanying images belonged to my Uncle Jack’s sister Alice and her husband Harold. 

Harold would often break wind in the car and blame the dog…

Loved that.

WITH MUM, ALICE & HAROLD...

LAST VISIT TO DARTMEET...

DARTMEET AGAIN...

DIDN'T FALL IN...