For those in peril...

For several.years I've been obsessed with the little town of Appledore, North Devon, without ever having been there. I once saw a brochure advertising a book festival there. And I like apples. These are surely.good reasons.

When I thought about holidaying in North Devon, a month or so ago, I checked out Appledore, but there was no room.at the inn. There really is only one inn, and a car park for camper vans. Thus we ended up having Ilfracombe as our touring base, but the buses are so easy. Today's trip was to Appledore, via Barnstaple, Bideford, and a place called Instow, which is across the Torridge estuary from Appledore. We had hoped to catch the ferry from Instow, because it finishes on 29th, but we had not reckoned on the tide being out! We could have walked across, almost.

The rain started, so we went to the pub. Across the water, Appledore kept appearing and disappearing behind the
mist, like the isle of Avalon. Finally we peeled ourselves off the pub seats, and caught the bus to the end of the line.

Appledore did not disappoint. It was every bit as charming as I had expected, and even better because J. bumped into someone she knew from Stroud, and he told us about a pub, but also mentioned the lifeboat station. After that, we just had to go there.

The street beyond the ugly car park was lined with colourful painted terraced houses, well kept. A little boat was glimpsed down a slipway. As luck would have it, the lifeboat came skimming past as we walked by the sea, and by the time we got to the station, it was being hauled up the ramp on a trailer, and hosed down. I don't think I've ever seen that before, despite coming from a coastal town.

Eventually we dragged ourselves away, two buses back to Ilfracombe. I had a pot noodle thing for supper. Lunch had been rustic tomato soup at Appleldore, with gluten free bread knitted out of the beards of sailors. You know how it is with some of these products...