Assing about in Devon

For a change, something a bit lighter - but not less important for all that, since such times take on a special significance when you have a chronic deteriorating condition.

Last week we returned from a week away with all our family. They're all busy people; in fact one of them is in the throes of completing his master's dissertation. So their giving up a week of the year to spend in the company of Jane and me means a lot. Not that we don't have fun together, but a wheelchair grouch imposes limits on what can be done.

We stayed in a large house in mid-Devon which Jane had found through the New Wine magazine. It was in reach of her parents and so we were able to call on them - which the great grandchildren enjoyed. The weather was of course mixed - but never bad enough to prevent us doing what we wanted. Not far away was Dunkeswell Airfield from where on the Saturday a continuous stream of sky-divers flew and gave us a grandstand display of their descents against a clear blue sky and even out of the clouds.

On the Monday we drove to the National Trust house at Knightshayes Court, once owned by the Heathcoat-Amory family. Our granddaughters dressed up as below-stairs servants. In the magnificent billiard room there was a series of corbels depicting fables. Near the door was this one:

Not a fable I'm familiar with, but it seems to refer to this one from the Latin writer, Phaedrus. "A donkey saw a lyre lying in a field. He approached the instrument and as he tried to strum it with his hoof, the strings resounded at his touch. 'What a beautiful thing,' said the donkey, 'but completely inappropriate, since I don't know anything about music. If only someone better equipped than myself had found it, my ears would have been delighted by heavenly melodies!'" 
So it is that talents often go to waste because of some misfortune (trans. Laura Gibbs). Sort of apt!

The next day we continued with the theme of donkeys, and visited the vastly over-endowed Sidmouth Donkey Sanctuary. Suppressing my reservations about how much money is donated to animal charities, I enjoyed the morning. It is free to get into and has pretty good wheelchair access (and posh disabled loos). An excessive number of photos were taken of the old ass with the sleek-looking donkeys. 

Looking at my stomach explains the notice!

Silent fellowship of asses

And of more importance the girls didn't seem to tire of  viewing the unexpected variety of donkeys. Then we had the exclusive use of Blackbury Camp for our picnic.

Under the greenwood tree

I mustn't forget to mention the two discoveries of our holiday. The first is the excellent Ashill Inn. Last year we went to have our final meal at Clyst Hydon's Five Bells. Now it's a bit out of our price bracket; and so we were delighted to find somewhere which suited us just as well and served excellent food. It's not stodgy pre-cooked microwaved pub grub, but a freshly cooked, locally sourced, delicious menu. Good wine list and local beers, I'm told.

At Ashill Inn

The game of Mölkky

The other is the game of Mölkky, to which one of our family introduced us. It's from Finland and it's a sort of sophisticated and longer version of skittles, but with the mölkky thrown rather than rolled. All generations could take part. Sadly my lack of coordination and muscle power meant I scored nothing when I played, but that didn't stop me enjoying it.

Life is good.

Sunny days in Devon

I have to apologise, not least to the friend who wondered whether my blogging silence meant something was wrong. I'm sorry to say it means approximately the opposite - that I've been having rather a good time, partly because I've been in the book-writing "zone" and partly because we went away for a long sunny weekend to South Devon coming back a week ago.

We stayed in Newton Poppleford for two reasons: a) it's near Jane's revered and lovely parents, and b) it's where I found a promising disabled friendly bed and breakfast. Brookfields proved to be better than I'd dared hope. It's run by a couple, David and Rosemary, who'd previously owned a nursing home and therefore understood my needs well. Our bedroom had a wetroom en suite which, of course, is ideal. There was plenty of room both sides of the bed. And the breakfasts were amazing. David and Rosemary seek out the best from every source, working on the principle that they give their guests what they themselves would like. And they are excellent and generous cooks. When we eating out with Jane's parents at midday, we had the continental option - well, you can't do much with that, can you? It was fine, but not as extraordinarily yummy as the full English.

I suppose what was best about Brookfields was the hospitality. It isn't the hotel-type B&B; it's a home. Even Axy, the dog, is friendly and welcoming.

Friday was Sport Relief day. We'd decided to make use of our National Trust card and visit Killerton House, just on the other side of the M5. It's an impressive house, built originally as a stop-gap, for the Acland family. Happily they decided to stick with it rather than build a grandiose permanent house on top of the hill. It's grand enough as it is, with beautiful grounds (not that wheelchair friendly) and an accessible ground floor. Jane indulged one of my vices at lunchtime with a packet of quavers, which was kind of her.

About midday there was an influx, a torrent of primary school children, 200 of them in blue, yellow, green and red tops. They were, we realised, marking Sport Relief, competing in ages round different distances, including a course of up to a mile. It was beautiful sunny afternoon; parents and peers shouted encouragement. What better way to end the week - pupils and for teachers! And for us it proved diverting entertainment.

St Luke's, Newton Poppleford

Our Italian evening was, I'd say, average, although the service was excellent - as were the quite different services we attended on the Sunday. The first was in St Luke's, Newton Poppleford, which Rosemary took us to in the morning. A delightful friendly relaxed yet reverent Communion service. It reminded somewhat of Stanford, which is quite high praise! After a cream tea in the afternoon we headed off to see the sea and then to join our friends at Christ Church, Exmouth. Here we had excellent worship music, and a memorable sermon on Psalm 1 and pee charts! On the way back we sampled Krispies' award-winning fish and chips, which I have to say were just as good as their reputation. Back at the B&B we were plied with sloe gin and red wine - "and so to bed" after a great day.

Christ Church, Exmouth

Jane returning with the clotted golden treasure!

Before coming home on Monday, we had to pick up some clotted cream for a member of our family (and ourselves, to be fair) from what is agreed to be the best supplier in Sidmouth. We spent another couple of mellow hours with Jane's parents, this time in Sidmouth Garden Centre's remarkably good and reasonably priced restaurant. Our progress was almost brought to a halt by an accident blocking both directions of the A303. However instead of following the official diversion we successfully circumvented it and were home in time to feed the dog. Although physically taxing, as all changes from routine inevitably are, with a disabled body to look after, we both returned stimulated and ready to enjoy the week of unbroken sunshine which followed. Breaks are physically tiring and take a bit of recovery time, but mentally they are essential for riding the stresses of disability - which is the reason why funding which makes them possible must not be cut. The alternative, carers being unable to carry on, would cost the tax-payer much more, with two casualties to deal with. I await with some trepidation the government's proposals for creating a viable care system.

Heave-ho henges

Jane was happily browsing the BBC website last night, after checking what the weather would be like for her parents in York today. "Hmm," she said, "at least that's one sensible cut the government are making! The £25 million new visitors' centre at Stonehenge." The taxpayers' whack was actually going to be £10M, with other bits from English Heritage et al; but hopefully the whole project will be scuppered. We regularly pass the collection of grey rocks on Salisbury Plain on our way to Devon. I know they're important to Druids and hippies, but I can't think they need a state-of-the-art visitors' centre. Decent loos might come in handy, I suppose. The problem is, of course, remarkable as it is, Stonehenge is so hyped that when visitors actually get there, they aren't allowed near the stones and just see some old rocks standing in a circle - and to be honest it's not that impressive (though the original achievement obviously was). And you're charged £6.90 for the privilege! What a disappointment: you've driven all the way from your hotel in London, paid your entrance fee and walked round the henge, taken your photos - and that's it!

I've often thought we should follow the French example with the Palaeolithic cave paintings at Lascaux. The paintings there are at real risk from mould, and so they've closed the caves and created Lascaux 2, the caves in reproduction, so that tourists can still see the remarkable early art in pristine condition if not in the original. Bon idée! Why doesn't English Heritage commission fibre-glass reproductions of the stone circle, put them nearby and create an open access Stonehenge 2, where visitors can wander among the stones at will? I bet it would cost a fraction of £25M, and if one were damaged, no problem, it could easily be replaced. Meanwhile if you're interested in stone circles you'd do better a few miles north in Avebury, where there's a bigger and better prehistoric monument of stones and earthworks - which you can wander around free of charge and is much more fun for children.

Anyway that was a bit of a tangent! I'm really saying that sort of cut makes sense, and I'm all in favour. However, there are cuts which I don't think any civilised government should contemplate - and those are the ones which damage the vulnerable. I don't think that the domestic model of national economies is a valid one. You know, the 'every housewife knows' sort. But certainly, if I were cutting down on our expenditure, I would cut out luxuries such as National Trust membership or Sky TV but never contemplate neglecting elderly parents or starving the children. And similarly I trust the government will not give an inch to the cut-at-all-costs brigade.

More Somerset

Thought you might like to see evidence of our break in South Somerset. So here are two pictures, one near the back entrance to the Stourhead estate.
(The car parks were so full the day we visited, we didn't bother to go in and had a picnic round the back. Jane went for a wander and took this picture of one of the wells in Six Wells valley: ?'St Peter's Pump'.) We've been to the gardens before - which were made by some of our friend, Charlie Hoare's ancestors.

The other one is at Barrington Court, which has nice formal gardens. Interesting place, rescued from dereliction in the 1920s, by a Colonel Lyle (of Tate & Lyle fame). It hasn't got any furniture in it - which means you can see the panelling etc. and then have to use your imagination.
As you can see, I had a classic-car of an electric scooter, which curiously turned out to be the most comfortable of the different scooters I've borrowed. Nice restaurant too where we had some lunch.

The Big Day out

Waddesdon Manor on first sight

Yesterday we spent a very good day with John and Jan. We met up in the gardens of Waddesdon Manor. Jan and John live just down the road from the monument to the Rothschild banking fortune, and so have often been there; in fact before John got MND it was their favourite walk. But we'd never visited it. It's now owned by the National Trust, which does well for disabled visitors: admitting the carer free, and providing a lot of reserved parking.

Anyway, they say a picture is worth a thousand words, so here are some.



Discussing the conundrums of MND



John and Jan in front of the Victorian aviary



Beside one of the extraordinary organic sculptures, appropriately this one's a robin (but with a green breast).



In the rose garden. The roses had suffered in the rain, but the lavender avenues were beautiful.




In front of the façade, not of our house, thankfully, but the Manor.

It was a tiring day for all of us, but we enjoyed it. John's MND was diagnosed last autumn, but has already advanced further than mine. There's no denying it's hard, but they both have faith which gives them amazing peace.