I almost fell out of my bed with shock on Monday morning as clear blue skies greeted me and David Brain promised me temperatures nudging the 20s! It took me a while and a couple of coffees to get over it but eventually I headed into town to meet the newly crowned Mrs. White and my pesky little niece, Bethany, for lunch. It seems the summer(ish) weather had brought out the Aussie in all of us, Bethany in her Bondi lifeguard T-shirt all set for the next dramatic series of Bondi Rescue where they find a non-deadly snake or some fat English bloke gets a bit sunburnt and has a funny turn.
In the afternoon I met up with my brother and partner, Al and Vero, for a foray out of Plymouth onto Dartmoor National Park. 
Dartmoor is literally on the doorstep of Plymouth and many a wet miserable day has been spent in a plastic mac on the barren hills and tors battling to stay upright against the wind. There have also been some nice days up there! Today was one of those, the drive along the A38 and up towards Avon Dam was pretty much Devonyllic (I made that word up, it’s kind of idyllic but specifically Devon!). By that I mean the warm sunshine illuminating a patchwork quilt of rolling hills, narrow winding lanes lined with ten foot high 
hedgerows and wild flowers, butterflies, birds and the bleats of sheep, the odd tractor and occasional whiff of manure and views of the untamed moors beyond.
The walk to the Dam takes you along the Avon River, which, given the exceptional summer, was tumbling and gargling its way over rocks, past ferns and mosses and trees. I’m trying to stop comparing places because everywhere is unique but there is a similarity to Tasmania…both in the lush, water-fed forests and the barren plains of the higher moorland.
The Dam itself was calm and peaceful, barring the water cascading down into the river below and it was pleasant to sit here and get a dose of Vitamin D for a while before heading back down the way we came. The blue skies inevitably meant the mind started to wander to thoughts of barbecues, shorts and flip flops. Thus a stop in a Special Treat Tesco followed on the way home for a pile of meat and booze in preparation for forthcoming festivities.
Dartmoor is literally on the doorstep of Plymouth and many a wet miserable day has been spent in a plastic mac on the barren hills and tors battling to stay upright against the wind. There have also been some nice days up there! Today was one of those, the drive along the A38 and up towards Avon Dam was pretty much Devonyllic (I made that word up, it’s kind of idyllic but specifically Devon!). By that I mean the warm sunshine illuminating a patchwork quilt of rolling hills, narrow winding lanes lined with ten foot high 
hedgerows and wild flowers, butterflies, birds and the bleats of sheep, the odd tractor and occasional whiff of manure and views of the untamed moors beyond.The walk to the Dam takes you along the Avon River, which, given the exceptional summer, was tumbling and gargling its way over rocks, past ferns and mosses and trees. I’m trying to stop comparing places because everywhere is unique but there is a similarity to Tasmania…both in the lush, water-fed forests and the barren plains of the higher moorland.
The Dam itself was calm and peaceful, barring the water cascading down into the river below and it was pleasant to sit here and get a dose of Vitamin D for a while before heading back down the way we came. The blue skies inevitably meant the mind started to wander to thoughts of barbecues, shorts and flip flops. Thus a stop in a Special Treat Tesco followed on the way home for a pile of meat and booze in preparation for forthcoming festivities. 
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