What a Week - Part 2

So, to continue ...

On Wednesday, a disaster. I went to download a photo program my sweetie had sent me and the next thing I knew, nothing worked. Every program I tried to open, wanted to open in Firefox (my internet browser) - Word, Email, Mah Jong, Cyberscrub - everything. I flipped. Completely incapable of coping, as I saw the end of my writing (years worth of writing, my book, short stories, articles, theatre research - I shudder to think about it), all my photos, my ability to communicate with all of you, I actually almost hyperventilated and did have a mini set of hysterics. My sweetie worked on it most of the day but has still been unable to fix it completely. Unfortunately, this is when we realised that there were no auto-backups on my laptop and no way to restore it to previous settings. The guy who put it together for me neither set those up, nor told us he hadn't. This guru had set it all up on my sweetie's laptop and our desktop, but not on mine.

Luckily, my sweetie had set up an account for himself on my laptop that showed him as an administrator on my laptop and it was completely unaffected. So, we found a way to link all of my files (which were still present, I just couldn't get to them on my own account) to my sweetie's account. Except, all of my 'remembered' passwords for the blog, flick'r, facebook, email, pretty much anything you need a password for, were saved on my account ... and I couldn't remember them!!!

Dear god.

So, the backing and forthing between internet accounts and my email began as I started to reset every single one of them. By the end of Wednesday, it was pretty much done, but I still couldn't open my blog, as for some reason, the password for that wouldn't stick. I thought all of this computer and internet stuff was supposed to make life easier and better. HAH!

On to Thursday ...

On the M5?? I think.

My sweetie had bought a turntable on eBay, so we decided that since it was located here, we'd take a few days and drive down to Teignmouth, on the south coast of Devon, to pick it up, then meander back home. This wasn't to be a proper, stop and see everything holiday; just a quick trip to get a feel for things and kind of bond with our new home. Our route would take us through Leicestershire, into Warwickshire on the M69 and from there down the M5 through a corner of Worcestershire, Gloucestershire, Somerset and into Devon. It was supposed to take about 3.5 hours. It took much more because not only was there a nasty traffic back-up at the top of the M5 (broken down transport truck and then an accident a little further on) but there was pretty bad fog. Once we were past the accidents, it was pretty quick, and the fog came and went as the sun got higher in the sky.

At the Ship Inn

Once at Teignmouth (pronounced 'Tinmuth'), we had lunch at the Ship Inn (Aleksandra's first pub) and my sweetie conducted his business while the Princess and I wandered a bit. I had set a fairly aggressive day of driving, as I had searched dog friendly inns and the nearest I could find (that weren't campgrounds) were up in Dorset. Problem was, not knowing how far we would actually get, I hadn't made reservations anywhere, so we were travelling on a wing and a prayer.

This one day of driving took us through so many incredibly different types of scenery it was stunning. It's as if each county has its own, unique, character and each is as beautiful as the last. Just when we thought we'd seen the most beautiful sight ever, we would turn a corner or crest a hill and there would be something just as, or more, awesome. My sweetie told me that he finally understood the meaning of 'achingly beautiful'. Gloucestershire, which includes the Cotswolds, was so pretty, but the small mountains in Somerset close to Wales completely took us by surprise. Down to the sea by Weston-Super-Mare, then back into rolling countryside and into Devon. Our route skirted Exeter on one side and Dartmoor on the other, then from Teignmouth, we were in a coastal area, until Dorset.

Somerset, I'm pretty sure

Anyway, one of the inns I'd found was a short drive from Blandford Forum in Dorset, so I provided the post code to Sat Nav Nellie. The roads became increasingly narrow until they turned into the hedged roads I remembered from my visit to the area in 1988. In fact, at one point branches were scraping the side of the car, and had another car come toward us, one of us would have had to back out! Finally, we turned a corner and there before us was Tarrant Monkton. I didn't know villages like this still existed - almost completely filled with thatched cottages, it was like entering a temporal anomaly.

The Langton Arms has been a functioning inn since the 17th century and is just beautiful. The owners are friendly and welcoming and were happy to rent us a room for the night, breakfast included. The room was perfect, the scenery full of rolling fields, horses and thatched cottages, and the locals were happy to chat with us as we ate at the pub. The food was phenomenal!!! I had venison and wild boar sausages with mash and veggies, and my sweetie had sole that he said was the freshest and best he's had in 10 years (the chef told us it was the best he's seen in 20 years and they get it direct from the boats!). Aleksandra stretched out on the stone floor and completely charmed everyone. That's our pup. By the end of the evening, we'd talked to the sole UK distributor for Bechstein pianos, who winters in Tarrant Monkton and has a summer house on the coast (and owns one of only 37 convertible 1970 Aston Martins), and to Catherine and Richard, who run a livery in the neighbouring village, Tarrant Launceston. Catherine has two Andalucians, a mare and her foal, so she and my sweetie had a great deal to talk about (he worked with Andalucians at Medieval Times) and by the end of the evening we had an invite to visit them the following morning.

The Demon Sheep of Tarrant Monkton

Being an early riser, to save my sweetie from being disturbed, I took Aleks for a long walk through the village at about 6:15 the next morning. Past the WW1 memorial and horse training paddocks, a curve in the road brought us to a meadow where Aleks stopped dead. She'd just seen her first sheep. She had no idea what that creature was, but she wasn't sure she liked it. The sheep (with adorable lambs hiding behind them) were equally sure that they did not like her in the slightest. With every step we took, the ewes turned and kept us completely in sight until we were past.

The River Tarrant runs between the two villages (Monkton and Launceston) with the road crossing a small ford. Talk about idyllic. As we continued through the village, we passed more sheep, this time in an enclosure. Well, those sheep were not amused by Aleksandra. They yelled and bleated and baaaaed at the top of their lungs the entire time, to the point that the Princess actually switched sides so that I was between them and her!! I never knew sheep could look so mean! It was only about 6:40 in the morning by then and although I knew this was a farming community and the people were probably early risers, I thought, "Dear god let there be another road back to the inn." The ruckus was so huge that I feared disturbing the entire village.

Meanwhile, back at the inn, breakfast preparations were underway and at 7:00 I was able to get a blessed cup of coffee. A lovely old woman, with a wonderfully mischievous glint in her eye, took one look at me reading the Daily Times and brought out a mug for my coffee. Curiously, in that day's edition of the paper was an article talking about how un-dog-friendly the UK has become, especially in comparison to the rest of the European Union. Coming from Canada, where dogs aren't allowed anywhere indoors, let alone in pubs, I had to laugh. I guess it's all in your perspective.

Finally, my sweetie joined me and we had the best breakfast ever. Poached egg with sausage, bacon, grilled tomatoes, grilled mushrooms and fried bread. Oh. My. God. "That was a wonderful breakfast," we said to the cook. "Thank you!"

"I've been doing it for 41 years," she said. "I've had lots of practise." But she was very pleased at the compliment and when she came back out from the kitchen, gave us a tinfoil wrapped package of sausage for Aleksandra. Everyone had heard about Aleksandra by then and all wanted to meet her. News travels fast.

After breakfast, we packed up the car and I picked up a wedding package from the owner. Yes, they do weddings there. It's the first place we've visited where I was moved to ask about it.

The Princess & The Foal

On we went to the livery. My sweetie was completely taken by the mare and her foal, and Catherine was happy to show us around. She even held the horses steady so that Aleksandra could meet them. The Princess has not liked horses much to this point. They actually do frighten her. So we took it slowly and after the initial meeting in the stable yard, we followed Catherine and the foal out to the paddocks, mama Mare acting up the entire time at being separated from her baby. Some baby. He's over 17 hands high!

The paddocks were a real treat and we got to meet some of the boarding horses, as well as Catherine's retired racehorse. Her dogs joined us and slowly, Aleks calmed down until finally, she was drinking from the water trough and trying to play with the horses. She couldn't understand why they didn't immediately go into puppy-play-pose too!!

Eventually, reluctantly, the three of us got back in the car and continued our journey.

To be continued ... again.

The road out of Tarrant Monkton