Matthew was in a very grumpy mood this morning. None of us had slept particularly well and he’d decided that it was Zoly being restless in the night, but I suspected that it was more than that – we’ve had noisy overnight storms all week so combined with Zoly’s nocturnal antics plus the fact that Matthew just never stops meant that he was suffering a bit. And when Matthew is suffering from tiredness, everyone else better watch out! Discretion being the better part of valour and all that, I decided that I should make myself and Zoly scarce and take off on a day-long hike. I like to ‘join things up’ and since we’d walked from our cottage in Metherell to Cothele and then followed the Tamar Valley Discovery Trail along the River Tamar as far as Calstock, I wanted to do the next few ‘sections’ of the Trail – heading north through Gunnislake, then west via Bitthams, Chilsworthy, Latchley, Greenscombe Wood, Luckett as far as Old Mill, where we could turn south and over Kit Hill and back through Harrowbarrow to Metherell.

The weather today  promised to be fine (at last) and Matthew hadn’t really been able to spend very much time in the gardens at Cothele so he walked with us until we arrived there.

It was nice not having to be wrapped up against the rain and on the walk through Cothele Quay into Calstock everything looked so much brighter.       

 We’d been as far as Calstock church on a previous walk – it’s sited high above and quite a walk away from the town. We’d wondered why it was so far away from where everyone lived until we discovered that in 2007 a team of archaeologists from the University of Exeter had uncovered the remains of a Roman fort surrounding the church – it would have been big enough for 500 soldiers and is the furthest south west that Roman remains have been found. I figured that the church was probably where it was because it was built from stones that had been nicked from the Roman fort!  

Once we passed through Gunnislake the valley sides became steeper and narrowed as we headed further upstream – after all the rain the river was incredibly high, very fast flowing, foaming and churning  – I was concerned to keep Zoly away from the edge. 

 The Tamar valley is so beautiful around here though – cliffs and forests, weird and rocky islands everywhere and the whole area is characterised by ruined Cornish mine workings being reclaimed by nature  – tall engine sheds built from stone with high round chimneys, abandoned workshops and crushing sheds, piles of spoil and fenced off shafts. Most of the mines were for tin, copper, arsenic and silver.  

  
 We came across a couple of really nice-looking little holiday lets above the River in Chilsworthy, they had amusing names!

  
Also, a rather inviting place to stay in Latchley – we just need to check out their dog-friendly credentials before we make a booking (although just about everyone seems to have a dog around here, plus vegans are always animal-friendly, so this place is probably a safe bet). A man pushing a wheelbarrow in the village said: “That’s a fine-looking hound”as we passed.

 The walk up to Kit Hill was challenging as it was very steep and near the end of our walk. But it was worth it for the amazing views. All the way to Plymouth looking south and over to Devon in the east.

   
There was a quarry high on the hill a stones used in the Bishop’s Rock Lighthouse in Scilly as well as six London bridges over the Thames (Lambeth, Putney, London, Chelsea, Blackfriars and Waterloo). 
 A stone monument at the summit of Kit Hill can be seen for miles, from a distance the mess that’s been made of it through having various bits of communications equipment strapped to it isn’t clear. I think it’s a shame the work couldn’t have been done more sympathetically.

  
We came off the hill for the short walk back to Metherell – we called in to the farm shop in Harrowbarrow for some well-earned ‘premium’ cooked Cornish ham for Zoly, we arrived two minutes before closing time – phew! Lucky boy.

After what has been one of the mildest winters ever recorded it is perhaps a little surprising that spring hasn’t been and gone already. Before Christmas the news was full of reports of daffodils in bloom in December – months early. Yet despite those early arrivals, in most places spring blooms seem to be going on and on, lasting longer than I can recall for quite some time.

Here in Cornwall it feels a bit like an outdoor version of the Chelsea Flower Show where you would see all the spring flowers, from the earliest snow drops through to the latest flowering daffodils all in bloom in the same marquee. For Chelsea this artificial mash up of the seasons is achieved through human intervention. Plants are kept from flowering by storing them in fridges or brought into flower early by putting them in heated greenhouses. But this spring here in Cornwall, nature has created its own all-in-one springtime display – all thanks to global warming most probably.

The gardens at Cotehele are absolutely bursting with early, mid- and later spring flowers everywhere you look. In the woods and natural embankments there are sparkling white woodland anenome and tiny snowdrops, bright waxy yellow petals of celandine stretch out to welcome the warmth of the spring sunshine and clusters of pale yellow primroses cling to steep banks and bring a smile to my face, they transport me back to our wedding day two years ago when the grounds of the wedding reception venue were filled with their blooms to celebrate our marriage. 
  
Among the acer glade in the garden, fritillaries bob their purple checkerboard bonnets amongst the plain white versions of the same flower. Just around the corner amongst the camellias and azaleas with their big bright pink and red flower heads are drifts of bluebells – neither plant seems to be the slightest bit bothered by their technicolor clash of hues.

   
    
 Surrounding the solid stone walls of the house the daffodils abound in every shade of yellow from the palest almost white to ones that are virtually neon. In a corner, almost tucked away behind a garden gate leading through to the upper garden is a drift of bright pink cyclamen. So slight and delegate and yet brighter than the pinkest of lipsticks that you could possibly imagine.

 
The highlight of this gardens spring sensation awaits in the old orchard. Among the gnarled branches of these aged apple trees (the branches so covered in moss and lichen that you wonder if they are still alive) is a living horticultural history book. Clusters of heritage daffodils flow amongst the fruit trees, their golden blooms almost like a thousand miniature suns lighting the orchard. Their names displayed in chalk on slates ‘Van Sion’, ‘Baths Flame’, ‘Sulphur Pheonix’ and my favourite ‘Butter and Eggs’ so rare, they could so easily have been lost if it weren’t for the sterling work of those preserving these flowers for us and future generations to enjoy.

   
  
    
    
 In a few weeks this will all be faded – for another year – but the memory will live on, and sure as day follows night, spring will come again next year.

Today I reached that point in the holiday when I actually felt more tired than I did at the start of the week. This phenomenon can’t really be put down to over exertion as we’ve not really stretched ourselves, but rather sleep deprivation. 
It’s always a bit odd when you are not in your own bed, but to be fair the bed in the cottage is quite comfortable – for two. There lies the problem. As we travelled here by train we packed light, so no room for Zoly’s bed. We did bring his mat and blanket, but these are not up to his usual nocturnal standards and he’s made that very clear.
Despite the ‘no dogs on the furniture’ rule, Zoly has decided that he must sleep between the two of us. Given that the bed here is considerably smaller than our bed at home, for this arrangement to work well it requires a regimented alignment of sleeping partners and absolute stillness throughout the night. Zoly and Mike are not known for either of these.

  Two’s company, there’s a crowd

Last night we reached ‘peak duvet’ whereby the amount of duvet available to cover both Mike and I was seriously impeded by the large fury boy with long extended legs laying between us. Much tossing and turning ensued, with my peace and slumber finally being shattered at around 3am by my beloved husband exclaiming in a firm voice that Barbara Woodhouse would have been proud of ‘Zoly get your paw off my face’.
Needless to say I did not awaken this morning feeling fresh as a daisy, so after much discussion with Mike I decided to limit my excursion to the Cotehele gardens (as the sun was finally shining) whilst Mike and Zoly enjoyed a longer walk. This was most definitely the best decision as when I am sleep deprived I am not the best person to be around (unless you like grumpy middle aged men!).
A few hours pottering amongst plants and stopping to snooze in the warm spring sunshine (at last!) on the different garden benches has done the trick. My batteries feel recharged and I’m ready for a final burst of excursion on our last full day tomorrow.

Mother Nature clearly has not referred to her calendar. A saying goes that March comes in like a lion and leaves like a lamb – well this lamb has a serious incontinence issue as today has definitely been big on the April showers. At least they were forecast, so we wrapped up and were prepared for when the heavens opened.

We planned to make the most of the drier forecast for the morning by walking to Calstock via Cotehele, then to catch the train to Devonport from where we’d walk to the King William Dockyard. The forecast tricked us a bit as we were caught in several heavy downpours on our way to the station. We were all a bit damp by the time the train arrived. It seemed as though most of Calstock had decided to catch the 11.56 train to Plymouth. The single coach rail-bus was quite full with plenty of excitable children, tired looking adults and four dogs (including a damp Zoly). I was quite relieved to get off in Devonport as Zoly in a confined space with lots of other dogs makes me nervous. He inevitably wants to play, not a good idea since 26kg of dog jumping and landing unexpectedly on you in a train carriage is never going to end well.

From the station we walked to the Dockyard via the lovely Devonport Park. This part of Plymouth is quite poor and has had lots of regeneration money spent on it. Devonport Park has benefited from this. Many of this Victorian park’s heritage features such as the bandstand, fountain, park benches and monuments have been restored. The ornamental bedding – a victim of budget cuts in so many areas, was still proudly on show in Devonport.

While we enjoyed the surroundings, Zoly also had fun bounding around and introducing himself to the four-legged locals. Like us, Zoly was dressed for the inclement weather with his finest red rain jacket on. I, too, was wearing a red jacket and what with my brown trousers and Zoly’s brown hair the similarities did not go unnoticed. As we walked along I heard two women behind us talking with broad Devonshire accents. One said to the other ‘look at him [referring to Zoly], don’t he look just like his dad’, the other adding ‘you can tell they’re together can’t you’. Mike, who does tend to see himself and Zoly as soulmates (separated at birth), took much offence at the notion that I and Zoly should be considered a natural coupling. Mike should pay more attention to his outfit coordination, I shall say no more!

It was about 20 minutes walk to the dockyard, through more heavy showers unfortunately, so we arrived damp and a bit chilly. We’d already checked up on dog-friendly Plymouth and we headed straight for the Seco Lounge. This cafe/bar is part of a chain that was founded in Bristol – the first ever Lounge was actually opened on North Street, just round the corner from our house. They’re always a safe bet for us as they have a vegan menu and are very dog-friendly. We ate, warmed up and dried off before heading of outside to look around the yard.

The Royal William Victualling Yard was the major victualling depot of the Royal Navy and an important part of Devonport Dockyard. In case you’re wondering what victualling is, it basically means they prepared all the food, drink and other provisions necessary for a naval voyage. It was built between 1826 and 1835, and occupies a site of approximately 16 acres (65,000 m2) but was closed in the early 1990s and eventually sold to private developers who have converted it into office space, luxury apartments (are there ever any other kind?), cafes and shops.

The buildings across the site are incredibly solid with fine Georgian architecture and chunky granite block construction. The yard occupies an impressive promontory overlooking Plymouth harbour. We walked Zoly around the perimeter and then up onto the Devil’s Point to take in the views over the harbour and Plymouth city. More rain showers beckoned so we took shelter in another food place, a trendy bakery where they served hot drinks too and made dogs very welcome (we like dog-friendly places).

Our return train journey was uneventful bar a terrier with a nervous disposition who went into fits of yapping every time the train doors opened. The dog’s American owner responded each time with repeated shouted “No” and instructions to the dog to “Stop”. Mike tried to inform her that the dog would probably be interpreting her shouting “No” and “Stop” as if she were joining in with the dog, so she was just reinforcing the behaviour that she was trying to stop and that she should not tell the dog off but rather try and distract the dog with treats (he’s read lots of books on the subject). She didn’t take too kindly to to the advice and simply assured him that the dog was ‘just excited as he’s nearing the end of his journey’. Thankfully Zoly wasn’t much bothered by the yapping and was happily snoozing stretched across our laps.

We walked back from Calstock via Cotehele, catching a couple of light showers but getting back to the cottage just before a horrendous downpour. Zoly had his dinner before we all headed off to the local Carpenter’s Arms for ours: a pre-anniversary pizza. Tomorrow is our second wedding anniversary. Traditionally this is marked by cotton gifts, but we’ll be celebrating it with a traditional supper of baked potatoes, beans and vegan sausage, if you can’t have a bit of sausage on your wedding anniversary, when can you?!

Last Easter we headed north east for our spring getaway but this year we’ve chosen to go in the opposite direction. Our country cottage is in North Cornwall in the village of Metherall, nestled on the edge of the Tamar Valley. We decided once again not to drive but rather we caught the train from Bristol to Plymouth, then along the Tamar Valley line to Gunnerslake. From here we walked the half an hour or so to the village along winding country lanes. Friday was a beautiful sunny day so the walk from the station was lovely, daffodils and primroses dotted the hedgerows all along our route.  
‘The Lantern’ is a modern, but sympathetic addition to a much older house. The single storey building comprises two gables that mirror the main house. A kitchen/dining/living room is filled with light from two large windows/doors that open onto a small patio. The lounge is clustered around a log burning stove, whilst the kitchen is well fitted with everything you’d need. The bedroom leads off the lounge with a small but comfortable shower room/toilet off that. There’s a washer/drier in a separate cupboard – just the job after the muddy dog has greeted you a little more enthusiastically than you’d like.

Saturday was our first full day but the weather was dreadful (heavy rain and cold too) so we took the bus into Tavistock to get a few supplies. Most of our shopping had been pre-ordered and delivered from Waitrose on Friday evening, but Tavistock has a nice market (the Pannier Market), and as it was Easter the traders were getting into the spirit of things with an Alice in Wonderland themed egg hunt. There were quite a few mad hatters, white rabbits and some Queen of Hearts who it appeared had eaten rather too many tarts!

Before catching the bus back I popped in the co-op and stocked up on a few bits I’d forgotten to order. On reaching the checkout I rather too enthusiastically lifted my basket onto the conveyor belt (the gym visits are clearly having an impact) and in the process I sent a bottle of elderflower cordial flying out of my basket in the other direction. Smash! It left a rather sticky mess, but the staff didn’t seem too phased and soon had it cleaned up. A sweet lady in the queue behind me offered me words of comfort to ease my embarrassment. ‘At least it wasn’t olive oil’ she said, apparently her kitchen floor had never been quite the same since she dropped a bottle of virgin olive oil onto her tiles ‘it still looks oily’ she informed me.

The return bus trip from Tavistock was uneventful and we dried ourselves in front of a log fire (which took all of Mike’s fire lighting skills as we’d forgotten to buy fire lighters in Tavistock). I made a ratatouille for our dinner, accompanied by some rice/quinoa and French bread. The nice Waitrose man had given us two complimentary bars of dark chocolate when he dropped off our shopping, so I broke into one of those even though it was not quite Easter yet. Chocolate before Easter seemed to be just one more rule broken – I’d already received frowns from Mike for putting up the Easter decorations a day early!

   
 Our Easter Day has been mostly spent enjoying a long dog walk. We’ve dodged a few heavy showers, but have also had our fair share of sunshine too. Aside from the sight of the sun, another pleasant ray of light was the sight of not one, but two posters advertising a resurgent Tamar valley Labour Party. Heartwarming though this might be, I very much doubt the Corbyn effect is likely to result in a socialist revolution in north Cornwall anytime soon!

  
Our walk today took us along a footpath through a beautiful wooded valley. Moss covered trees, ferns and bright yellow daffodils adorned the damp valley sides. The path led us to Calstock Quay with the impressive Railway viaduct towering over the river. We did a loop through the village (picking up some curry powder for the dhal we’re making for tea), then along the river, a quick detour through the remains of Okel Tor Mine, then we climbed the valley crossing the railway line and taking a look around St Andrew’s churchyard (disappointingly the church was locked – on Easter Day too!) before we dropped back into Calstock to have some of our picnic lunch beside the quay.

   
    
   
Our return trip took us on a detour to Cotehele Quay, mill and bake house. We had a cup of tea at the quay before strolling through the woods to the mill where we saw the flour being milled and the hydro electric power turbine. Cotehele was much quieter than I’d expected, no doubt the showery weather was partly to blame – not that I minded, it was nice not having to compete with large crowds and it meant we were able to let Zoly off the lead quite a lot. There was one amusing scene where a little girl was sitting on a log whilst her mum too her photo. Zoly (never known to be camera shy) decided he wanted to be part of the action so duly ‘photo bombed’ the shot by rushing into the background and sitting down behind the little girl. 

The walk back from Cotehele Mill only took about twenty minutes across a footpath up to the village. We called in at the pub next door to the cottage to book a pizza for tomorrow night. It’s a dog friendly pub so we shall all three of us be going (but only two of us will be having Pizza!). The rest of today will be spent slumbering with maybe a bit more chocolate consumption – well that is what Easters all about surely!