A few weeks ago – after learning when I would be using my remaining work holidays – my other half arranged her remaining holidays to coincide, and asked an old friend that owns a cottage on the coast if we might use it for a few days.
The many storied cottage is on the sea-front in Brixham, Devon – on the south west coast. It’s worth noting that I’ve been to Brixham several times, but can’t really remember anything about it. My Dad used to own a boat. My formative years were spent sailing up and down the coast, visiting all manner of harbours and bays. No doubt he could regale me with stories of each and every visit.
We arrived in Brixham late in the afternoon, after trekking across the country in the new car – our first electric car. We strategically stopped at service stations en-route to top the car’s batteries up – in the hope that we won’t have to charge it again until we get home on Sunday.
The cottage is wonderful. Split across three levels, with a spiral staircase winding between living rooms, bedrooms, kitchen and bathroom, it has bay windows looking out across the harbour.
After dropping our bags (we travel light), we set off for a look around the harbour, and to find something to eat.
A small back-street place had been recommended to us – serving South African street food accompanied by well meaning verbal abuse. We found it in short order, fussed the restaurant’s rather rotund black labrador, ordered a beer, and ended up talking with the owner for some time – telling him about our friends cottage, the recommendation, and how he had made the journey from Zimbabwe via a job feeding thousands of ruby players in Surrey, to a street food restaurant in a Devon fishing village.
Late in the evening we wandered back around the harbour, past the Golden Hind (a replica of Drake’s ship that circumnavigated the globe in the 16th century), and on to the cottage.
This morning is all about slowing down. I’ve been sitting in the bay window watching fisherman preparing their boats throughout the morning. The sun seems to be winning a battle against the broken clouds overhead. Fingers crossed.
Plans are to have a look around the town this morning – find a cafe for breakfast – before wandering up the headland to the lighthouse at Berry Head. We’ll see.
Slowing down is hard. It’s tempting to go here, there, and everywhere immediately – to hit the ground running. We’re fighting the temptation – for now.