No cream, plenty of mayo

After the foray into Cornwall I spent a quieter few days in and around Plymouth, eating pasties, playing spot the chav, and getting mown down by prampushers on the number 43 bus. It’s the life of the unemployed and I love it! I cannot vegetate all day though and as the weather was decent enough I took another wander around the Barbican from where great discoveries were launched. For my part I discovered Langage Farm ice cream, mmmm. From the Barbican I took one of the little yellow water taxis over to Mountbatten, taking in the views of Plymouth Sound and finding a nice patch of grass to lie down in the sun and ashamedly read some crazy kids story about some stupid wizards and an evil dark lord by the name of Volvo Mart or something.

Not wishing to blow my own trumpet but I have discovered a few new things over the past year or two. For instance, I found out a thong is actually a piece of footwear, Spam Fritters are good for you (they make you strangely happy), and the capital of Australia is not Sydney or Melbourne, but Canberra. What? Canb-where?! The best discovery (though my brother has to take credit for it I suppose) is the village of Noss Mayo and its surroundings, just 11 miles from Plymouth City Centre but another era away. Devonyllic is the word. It possibly has the world’s most perfect walk, taking in rocky coastline dotted with sheep and gorse and heather, a glistening estuary surrounded by rolling farmland, sailing boats plying their way to nowhere in particular, muddy tracks going through lush green forests, cutesy cottages all tarted up with hanging baskets and shutters, and a pub. A pub which sadly no longer serves Cream Teas.

Let me take you on a pictorial journey through this little corner of Devon…come on grab your walking shoes and mind the sheep as you go…

Gotta love a good stile, there are plenty along the lower path following the coastline, which winds its way up and down in line with small rocky coves, sometimes crumbling away precariously at the edges.

Here we are looking across to Great Mewstone and the Rame Peninsula (in Cornwall) in the background. In the foreground is a Greater Devon Lesser Spotted Woolfluffian I think.

From the English Channel coast the path turns in along with the Yealm Estuary. This place seems a bit of a playground with rather well off people coming for their weekend breaks and having a rather good time.

The path then alternates between woodland, farmland and riverside, taking in some typically glorious Devon features.

Out of the green tunnel formed by the trees you reach the village, which is as pretty a place as you’ll find and the mood seems to be so relaxed you could simply drift away sat by the Ship Inn.

You could also sit at the Ship Inn for hours just to put off the climb back up through farmland to where you parked the car. Alas there are no tubes or trains or even many buses here, so walking it has to be, but this takes you past more lush scenery which is constantly changing with man and the seasons.

And then, if you are heading back to Plymouth and are gutted at having missed out on a Cream Tea, you can pop into Morrisons for a large pizza, some treacle tart and a large tub of Rodda’s. 5* Highly recommended.