At last!

After two years of schlepping around after Steve trying to get photos of steam trains while they are actually moving/doing something, I'd given up.
"I don't do train shots" I announced last Monday, when we visited the Bodmin steam railway and I failed yet again to capture the train in motion.

On Saturday, we decided to visit a National Trust property in Devon, which I will eventually blip. That left Sunday free for the Dart river cruise, which CleanSteve really, really wanted to do. We decided to get Round Robin passes, which combine the cruise with a steam train, a passenger ferry, and open-top bus trip, so that we could leave the car behind in Paignton. Parking in South Devon is tricky, to say the least.

Our first leg was a train ride on the Paignton to Kingswear steam railway, which has been run independently for several decades. The track is up to national rail standards, so can accommodate visiting heavy steam locos from other regions. It's a lovely ride that passes beautiful golden beaches and glistening bays, as well as a fancy Brunel viaduct. The time and the scenery flew by, and soon we were in Kingswear station, on the edge of the river Dart. It was here that I managed to capture 'our engine' the Lydham Manor, as she shunted. The engine was built at Swindon works in 1950, for the Great Western Railway.

We caught the ferry to Dartmouth, and I dangled my legs over the pier and watched several families lower nets baited with bacon into the harbour. Every now and then they'd catch a crab. The crabs were then scooped up into a crabbing bucket, then taken to a marquee to be entered into a crabbing competition. After they'd been logged and recorded, they were returned to the sea, so that someone else could catch them....

Soon it was time to board the boat, on the next leg of our Famous Five's adventure for the over-50s. The commentary was delightful, quite camp, and the sun shone on our little boat as we ploughed upriver to Totnes, repeatedly passing the coal-fired paddle steamer, the Kingswear Castle. We did not see a kingfisher or a seal, but plenty of grey herons, little egrets and cormorants sunning their feathers on branches of overhanging treees. This time, as we passed Agatha Christie's boathouse, it was bathed in glorious light, in severe contrast to the permanent twilight of Friday.

At Totnes, the mouth of the Dart, Steve's friend Dave Th met us and took us up to his house just off the Elizabethan high street, for lunch. It's almost a year since we were last here with him, so we had a mammoth catch-up session. They are all a lot older than me: inevitably the conversation turns to funerals attended and discussions of illness. Dave is a fabulous photographer ( he was a pro for many years) and the walls are hung with many of his framed prints, many of which now feature the Devon landscape. As he says, it's a handy way to store the archive!

Later still, we caught the open-top bus from Totnes back to Paignton, whizzing along country lanes, occasionally stopping to pick up regular passengers. A Sunday excursion train with her engine, the Nunney Castle, was visiting both Paignton and Kingswear, but we thought we'd miss her in both locations. Turned out we saw her at both ends of the line! The last thing we saw as we left Paignton, by the level crossing, was the train steaming back out of Paignton station towards Bristol.

And so, we set off towards the M5. All good journeys must end, it is said. How delightful to be greeted by Bomble on our return: pleased to see us, but thinner than I remembered. The garden was looking greener than Devon, and not as jungly as I had feared. As CleanSteve said, it was wonderful to be away, but in some ways a relief to finally get home. Tomorrow, the laundry begins!