Teignmouth

Some much needed rain fell during the night lulling us into a restful sleep. This morning dawned bright but a keen breeze blew across from the seafront. More chicken of the wood's fungi was cut from the nearby tree for John's omelette plus some extra to take with us. The man in the van nearest the tree had taken some also. In no rush we took our time to leave, showering, doing some handwashing and walking once again up to the tap by the life boat station to top up two five litre water containers to top up Marge's tank. By midday Exmouth was coming to life. Dog walkers, swimmers, in increasingly popular changing robe jackets and walkers all keen to catch the fine weather before the forecast rain of the afternoon arrived. Out in the bay a rainbow of colours drifted across a hazy sky. It was perfect kitesurfing weather. 

Today we would travel just over twenty miles to Teignmouth on the north bank of the river Teign estuary. The journey was more than a little demanding for Marge with some very challenging long steep climbs when we all held our breath. Marge for some reason has decided she has a full tank of diesel, when we know yesterday she'd used a fifth of her tank. Really Marge, you are a worry. A helter skelter of a drive took us down into the seaside and port town of Teignmouth. The overnight parking for the vans should be on the esplanade, but they are replacing the older street lighting for some that is more energy efficient so the road was closed. After some enquiring with other van owners we are now along with many others parked on the jetty behind Back Beach. The man in the van behind us has been here eighteen months, leaving recently to drive to Scotland to marry his girlfriend at Gretna Green. 

The promised rain came and went all through the afternoon and early evening. We dodged the showers walking out into the town stopping to buy John an onion bhaji pasty from 'Made in Heaven' (food from Devon).

They sold a large range of Devon pasties, including a very large one named the Beast of Teignmouth, several flavours of scotch egg including chocolate and a variety of homemade cakes. This was comfort food at its finest. 

The wind blew with gusto from the east churning the sea water-stained russet by the nearby red sandstone cliffs.

Surfers bobbed like seals in the heaving seas, occasionally finding their balance to ride on the forward section of an incoming wave before becoming upended in the foaming waters.

Back at Marge the waves pounded the sea wall, barrelling along the side of the jetty with a roar that resembled a fast-approaching steam engine. Waves at the far end propel spray around twenty feet in the air. We had taken the decision when we arrived to position Marge away from all this activity. Others, thrill seekers sat in their vehicles oblivious of the damage the sea water was doing. 

Around seven o' clock the weather settled. We were hoping it would clear enough for a reasonable sunset. Sunglasses on Marge, if it's a good one it might dazzle you.