Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing

Slightly gentler day after last night's late finish, with a decision to take in some of the museums. A and I made a bee line for the American Natural History Museum on Central Park West. We caught the subway to Columbus Circle and walked 10-15 blocks north, initially enjoying the heat but quickly longing for the joys of air conditioning!



Although it features quite a lot on natural history — lots of dioramas and taxidermy — it's actually more like the British Museum in its collection, with large numbers of artifacts from early civilisation. Sadly, the hall with all the gemstones — including the largest sapphire in the world — was closed for renovation, but the rest made up for it and I was particularly interested to see the Rose Space Centre, which was being rebuilt last time I was here and which I remember discussing with someone from SGI who had been involved in Hayden Planetarium digital display system.



The display which compares the size of the planetarium sphere to distances at different order of magnitude, from the Planck distance up to those of galaxtic clusters, was particularly good and the design of the sphere clearly shows where Cave Johnson got his inspiration from!

After the Natural History Museum, we walked across the park to the Metropolitan Museum but were deterred from actually going in by the queues that snaked down the steps.



After a bit of uncertainty about what to do next, we walked north to the Guggenheim, which was much, much less busy. Rather than tour the collection, as C and J had planned to do, we took a spin around the (air conditioned) gift shop and enjoyed the amazing art deco architecture. We then headed south again, walking past various guys handing out rap CDs who complemented one or other of us — or maybe poked fun at one of us — by telling us we had nice eybrows; a very random thing to say!

We lunched in the Plaza Food Hall, where we'd eaten the previous day and knew there were good gluten-free options. Amusingly, we bumped into Alice's parents there: they'd stayed late at the hotel, talking to some American guests, and had settled on the Plaza for the same reasons as us. After lunch, we walked back along 5th Avenue and did a bit more window shopping.

That evening, our last full one in Manhattan, we took advice from people at the hotel and went up to the Press Lounge, the rooftop bar at the Ink48 Hotel on the corner of West 48th and 11th. As before, I got carded by the bouncer on at the lift at the bottom and we made our way up to take in the stunning views of Hell's Kitchen, west to Midtown and Times Square, and across the Hudson to New Jersey. The city got dark while we waited for C and J to join us; an unforgettable sight, made all the better by our previous failures to make it up to a rooftop bar earlier in the trip.

We finished off the evening at Il Melograno on the corner of West 51st and 10th, which featured a range of gluten-free pasta and various different sorts of stake, and went back to the hotel, content that our last night in New York had been well-spent.

Another tour arranged by the hotel, this time of Central Park. Tina, current tour guide and former mounted park ranger, was on hand to take us round and show us the sites. She was full of fascinating stories about the park and its heritage, taking us on a big loop which included the lake and Shakespeare's garden.



We came back via the Alice in Wonderland Statue:



And, once the tour was over, walked our way back to the hotel, passing through Bloomingdales and Tiffany's on the way, to get ready for our night at the theatre.

After a good night's sleep, we got up early and breakfasted in the hotel, catching up with some of the rest of the tour group from yesterday, including a couple called Jo and Sean from Suffolk. We decided to go on a tour of the lower east side, taking in some of the sights we'd seen the day before from the high line. We started at Chelsea Market, where A picked up a few presents for people back home and we checked out some of the food places.



After the market, we walked through along 14th to Union Square and then walked through Greenwich Village, pausing in Washington Square Park to put away some cold drinks and to listen to a man playing Chopin, Liszt, and Debussy on the piano. On our way through, we posed in front of the fountain:



On the way back, we stopped and picked up some takeaway lunch from Murray's Cheese Bar — an aladdin's cave of dairy products, with a deli bar so extensive, I rued the lack of a panoramic mode on my phone:



The cheese cave in the back was a particular delight, with the sign outside making mention of Berkswell, my parents' local cheese — not something I expected to find a thousand miles from home...



Walking north we stopped in Christopher Street and ate our lunch by the

Day trip to Salcombe, mostly because A doesn't think she's ever been — although her parents disagree — and because the weather is ideal for a trip to the seaside. We drove down, getting only slightly confused about the route on the way, eventually finding ourselves in Malborough. We followed Collaton Road down to South Sands and parked up in the National Trust car park before heading down to the beach. With time to kill before the ferry, we had a drink on the hotel terrace and entertained the couple sitting at the next table by being effortlessly posh!



We decided not to rush for the first ferry we saw, but instead decided to wait until the next one at half-past one. With plenty of time in hand, we walked down to the sea tractor and discovered that the timetable ran every half hour except at 1:30, so we decided to walk into town along Cliff Road.



We wandered around the town, which was much less busy than it normally is in season, and A checked out some of the shops. With the hour drawing on, we stopped at the Victoria Inn for lunch. I had an excellent veggie gnocchi and A had a baked camembert with chips standing in for bread, and we spent a while enjoying the beer garden.



After walking through the town, ending up at Batson Creek, we turned back and bought ice creams in town. We then caught the ferry back to South Sands — an easy, pleasant journey, which gave us close up views of a number of the anchored boats — before going for a final wander on the beach, where, while we were at lunch, the tide had gone all the way out.



With our day over, we got back in the car and returned to Exeter, this time by a much more direct route...

Up reasonably early but not so early as to hit Exeter's rush-hour traffic. The journey down to the South Hams was pretty smooth until we reached Loddiswell, where we got caught behind a tractor towing a JCB on a trailer. Fortunately they turned off after ten minutes and the rest of the journey was pretty uneventful. We made it to South Sands by around 10:30 and parked in the National Trust car park up.

We set out on a walk that my dad called "unfinished business" — a walk that he'd failed to finish a few years ago before his hip was replaced.

My mum walking the cliff path above Starehole Bay.

The route followed the familiar pattern of the cliff path round to Starehole Bay and then on towards Soar Mill Cove.

Starehole Bay on a turbulent spring day, with the shadows of the clouds clealry visible on the water. Starehole is famous as the last resting place of the barque Cecilie which struck the rocks off the South Hams in 1936.

Once we reached the top, my dad took the opportunity to consult the map on his iPad...

Long-time readers may notice that the natty fleece he is wearing looks familiar, if so, they might notice that it sports the slogan "NUG VXII, May 2005, Exeter UK" For a conference freebee, it's certainly gone the distance.

...while my mum used the same bench to fish out her bottle of water.

A very characteristic photo of my parents: my dad consulting yet another map; my mum offering either food or drink; and both of them slightly off-kilter!

Rather than go all the way to the Soar Mill, we turned inland at the admiralty signal tower, walked along the road to Higher Rew — where we used to camp every summer we came to Salcombe when I was a child. The road ran parallel to the village of Malborough, high on a hill with its extremely distinctive church spire visible from miles away.

Malborough with the sunlit uplands of Dartmoor in the far distance.

Taking the footpath that leads up through the back of the Higher Rew camping field, we reached Bolt Head air field — once an RAF station and once a regional seat of government, should a nuclear war wipe out the rest of the country. Walking the perimeter, we reached the new — to us — National Trust East Soar car park and followed the path it recommended round the southern edge of the airstrip and then through the woods to reach the back of Overbecks.

A spectacular view of both the gardens of Overbecks, with its magnolia tree in full blossom, and the houses and beaches of Salcombe in the distance.

The gates of Overbecks House, complete with palm trees — something I remember from my earliest visits both to Salcombe and to the National Trust house.


We had lunch in the South Sands Hotel for old times sake before jumping on the sea tractor to catch the ferry to Salcombe itself. My parents were slightly surprised when the ferry went to the new jetty rather than the Ferry Inn steps and more surprised when the ferryman told them the destination had changed 15 years ago!

Salcombe was very much as it ever was: busy with people, although not quite a mid-summer levels, and full of very on-trend fashion shops. There were some survivors from way back when and I was amused to see that the Victoria Inn was not just dog friendly but even went so far as to offer a full-on canine menu, featuring such delights as pig's ears and roast bones! Once we'd done a bit of shopping — more precisely, once my mum had bought a pair of boat shoes and my dad had picked up a free sailing magazine — we walked back along Cliff Road, first to North Sands, and then to South Sands and the car.

We returned to Malborough and found our B&B, which proved to be a large house with a huge kitchen, games room, terrace, several suites of empty rooms, and, if my parents are to be believed, a limited number of working lightbulbs! We went out to try and get food in the village, failed utterly, and went to the Crabshell Inn in Kingsbridge. After a good supper — mum & I had pizza while my dad had soup and a burger — we returned to the B&B, still completely unoccupied, and went to bed, tired but happy.

With R on holiday this week, I made a last minute decision to take the day off for some much needed rest and recreation. After a gentle start to the day, we went down to the quay, I coated myself in sunblock, and we hit the running trail and went almost as far as the Turf Hotel before turning back. According to the milage counter, I think I did 19K and R, who missed the 5K loop from my place to the river, did around 14K.

Afterwards we went to the Quay workshop cafe for essential rehydration after deciding that our sweaty, athletic look would be less out of place there; and also reasoning that, like Cheers it's always best to go and recover in the place where everyone knows your name.

After lunch R headed off down the coast to sort out some domestic chores before a girls' night out to see Ghostbusters while I went home for a much-need shower and a siesta. It was by far the nicest day off I've had in a long time.

Not a great run this morning. Having stayed in bed till the shocking late hour of half-seven, I spent the first part sucking down pollution from the rush hour traffic and the second skipping on and off the pavements trying to dodge kids making their way to school. After pottering around, doing the crossword, doing my laundry — yay! clothes! — I put in a few miles in at the pool, where the crowd in the fast lane were going at a quick but not completley unsustainable pace and I enjoyed myself trying to keep up.

Supper was a handful of bits and pieces from the cupboard and Felicity Cloake's crumble recipe from Thursday's Guardian, made with some butter left over from the shortbread of a few weeks ago.

So all in all, a dull but reasonably enjoyable day off.

Left Mourtos early to head for Paxos, to visit a friend of my nephew's in Gaios. He'd made friends with a kid whose parents had just moved to Greek from South Africa after the family patriarch, an emigrant from Paxos, had decided to return home after making good in SA. Needless to say, for a six year old kid who'd just started at a Greek school, meeting an English child of the same age was something of a godsend and the two of them got on like a house on fire.

Having left Mourtos early, we managed to arrive in Gaios in time to get a spot on the quay. It was such a good spot that, for the first time this visit, I decided to stay at the helm and take the boat in, rather than handing over to pater.

Mooring in a big heavy boat like ours is a bit on the tricky side and requires a steady nerve, partly because the boat needs to be moving quite fast astern in order to have any steerage and partly because, when going astern, the propeller has a strong tendency to walk the stern round. But once you've got the hang of things — the trick is to accelerate hard so that you've got steerage and then drop into neutral to prevent prop walk problems — it's not too bad.

Most of the rest of the day was taken up with reading, while the children went off to a beach somewhere, Constantinos went to Anti-Paxos, pater pottered around fixing things and mater went to the beach. For supper, we went to Pan and Theo's taverna, just across the road from the boat.

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Updated: My attempts to go to bed early were foiled by a guy who was absolutely convinced that he could get his fat assed motor boat into a gap just down from us that was at least half a metre too narrow for it. After much shouting and much concern that he'd dropped his anchor over us, he made his first attempt to moor but was forced to give up when he managed to bump into the boats on either side. He managed to persuade one of the other boats to tighten their lines to free up some more space — not that much persuasion was required, given that their only other choice was yet another bumping — and eventually managed to tie up in the gap.

What an unpleasant and stressful end to the day.