When a plan doesn't quite work how you anticipate...

Latte and Flat white, or is it Flat White and Latte?

Tuesday was cooler, at around 18-19 degrees - much more like the normal summer temperatures we are used to.
The plan was to drive to Dartington,
then walk along by the river to Totnes - where we would have lunch and wander around the shops - which the KHT loves to do - before returning by the same route.

We set off.
However, before we reached the main road, we came to a point where we could see that the cars ahead were queueing.
There are places on this road where two large vehicles struggle to pass, and this looked to be one of them.
We waited where the road was wider, giving the vehicles the opportunity to sort themselves out.
Two cars, who had not noticed the congestion ahead, overtook us, only to add to the gridlock.
Time passed but nothing happened.
Vehicles in front of us and behind, started turning around.
We took the hint and also turned around and took a side road, with no real idea where it was going.
Unfortunately, this proved to be a narrow long and winding lane that diverted us considerably further back down the road than the place we started.
It was like playing snakes and ladders, and finding that at your first throw, you were off the board until you shake a six!

By the time we reached Dartington, we thought we had better pop and use the facilities.
Then, as we were passing a nice cafe that did food that suited DH's diet, we decided to have lunch before we walked.

KHT practices tightrope walking

It is only a couple of miles between Dartington and Totnes.
The first part of the walk is along the edge of woodland and meadows. The route is flat and I suspect that originally it was a railway line, taking loads down to the main line at Totnes.

Initially, we were followed by a family with two daughters aged around 7-8, who had voices so piercing that even when there was a tractor a few feet away from us we could still hear their incessant voices, each striving to be heard over the other. Argh!!!












We hid in the bird hide, hoping they would get ahead.
They explored the willow arches.
We took a rest by the river and they caught us up.
They were probably really nice children - just not what you want following when you are out for a peaceful wander.







The second section of the walk follows the very pleasant Bidwell Brook.
I am assuming that Bidwell Brook is tidal, as it appeared to be more like a river.
Below the weir and the hydro turbine, is a pool where locals swim. We stood and tried to gauge the depth, but we couldn't see the bottom.  One of the swimmers told me that it was possible to stand up nearer the weir, so this part must have been deeper than that!
We were amused by the thought that this brook was clearly contained more water than the small river in our town!

We watched a small branch float past, bearing four roosting ducks - one hopped off and had a quick swim, before hopping on again.
"Look at that branch floating down river!" I commented.
"You mean upriver." corrected DH.
He was right. It was the opposite direction to the estuary - tidal rivers are confusing things!
A pair of comorants rested on the branch of a tree. We had to convince the KHT that it was unlikely that either of them were the same cormorant she observed on a beach many miles away, on a different day.

We followed the river, past its junction with the Dart until we reached the old bridge, which is close to the centre of the town.
Wandering into the town, we visited a charity shop, where I bought a necklace - which shall forever be known as Totnes Blue, as a reminder of where it was purchased.

We popped into a shop run by a friend of the KHT's and his family, before stopping for a very welcome coffee.

Time was getting on, so we headed back along the river.

Driving home we passed the scene of the earlier blockage - there was nothing to indicate what had happened -
was it a breakdown,
an accident,
or just two vehicles that struggled to pass?
We will never know.
It will always be a chapter without a satisfactory conclusion.

We returned to the campsite to see discover a barbeque underway.
On the campsite, not all smells of burning can be attributed to me.
In fact, DH has triggered the smoke alarm by cooking toast far more often than I have.
As we ate out earlier, I didn't need to cook. Result!

The plan for the day worked, just not quite in the order I anticipated...
Did it matter?
Nah!