After a little stroll on North Dartmoor, the Castle Inn was the perfect place for a quick shower, beer, food and bed. Bed with lots of pillows. Perfect.
A tad tricky to collect tickets at Exeter St Davids.
For those with more than a back & white TV license (you do need a TV license to peruse the interwebz don't you?), here's some White Hut (and around) in colour.
In which we take a bath.
Race the clouds and rain up the cliff for the sunrise.
And discover someone stole our idea to renovate the old YMCA hut along the coast (stole and executed no less). One day I'll actually put one of my GoodIdeas™ into practice when I think of it rather than seeing someone else doing it years later, and it'll be a fantastic flop...
It's that time of the year. The time when Fay and I escape to the White Hut for a quiet weekend. This year started foggy. We lost the view, with only the ghost bus at night to change the scene.
But it got stormy. Which blew the view.
Perfect for painting.
After the flooding the water meadows were a little damp.
Photographing familiar things. This is the end of the lane. I pass here every day. Except for on duvet days.
This piece of art was made for the people of Kingsand-Cawsand by five young Austrian volunteers who helped to remove about one tonne (130 sacks) of marine litter from the beaches of the Rame Peninsula in September 2014.
The sun was setting on the other side of the building, but I got a sneaky glint nonetheless.
The Old Counting House. Best Christmas Card of the year. Nuff said.