South West Revisited

Following our successful long weekend on the banks of the River Tamar earlier in the summer, it was time to come back to that idyllic part of the world for another visit. After leaving work late on Friday afternoon, it was a surprise to find that the usual rush hour delays on the M4 didn’t materialise. The last few miles of the journey take place on single track roads that are not so easy to negotiate. There was even a moment where a bat flew in very close proximity to the windscreen when the road was at its narrowest, just like in an eerie scene from a horror movie.

On arrival at our farm cottage, I was greeted with a lovely plate of curry which tasted all the better following the 220 mile journey. The group sat outside for a while with all the usual robust banter taking place though people did turn in earlier than usual feeling a bit tired after the journey and work, maybe it was a sign that the group isn’t as young any more.

The next morning we were greeted with a lovely cooked breakfast from our ever dependable hired help. There was heavy cloud cover for most of the weekend but it was still lovely to sit outside and take in the view, overlooking the River Tamar. We learned from Guy that he was in the local village and someone in a shop still made reference to the stag weekend from earlier in the summer. This event was quite loud and probably raised the eyebrows of a few locals who had their peace shattered. The key instigator in turning the volume up to 11 was Sunny, an individual who is more shouty than Kate Thornton in her X-Factor pomp. His absence was on the September weekend was due to work commitments, though one could speculate that it may have been driven by fear that it is Mississippi Burning down there and an army of disgruntled locals would be on the lookout for him.

It was decided that our Saturday afternoon activity would be visiting a Toboggan run on the outskirts of Plymouth at a sports centre that also included a dry ski slope. It was a problem on deciding who would drive but we all gathered in a circle and someone opened a “spin the bottle” app to decide on who would be chauffeur. Plymouth does have a reputation of being a rough and ready city, this is partly due to having been an important base for the Royal Navy. This publication does not wish to slander this proud city though it is clear that the trolls live on top of bridges rather than under them as in fairy tales.

The activity was reasonably priced with the option of one slide for £1.50 or five for the marginally cheaper price of £7. Everybody embraced this activity with childlike enthusiasm which was probably correct considering the other clientele did seem to be quite a bit younger than our group.

To access the track, we had to travel on a pulley system that took us up at least 200 metres to the start point. The first picture below shows the system in action, it is recommended that a gap of at least 20 metres is left between each individual.

 

The first couple of were a good opportunity to learn the track and braking points. I was kindly given three extra runs by one of the group though this selfless act may have been motivated by the need for cigarette.

Before the last run was due to happen, there was a bit of a sideshow in the queue as a young girl took a long time to decide if she wanted to participate in the tobogganing but after a few moments deliberation, she decided to try. Lee agreed with the staff that it would be a good idea to wait until she was at the top of the pulley system before setting off as she was likely to be slow. Inspite of this delay, I was feeling very bullish about a high speed run as delusions of tobogganing adequacy began to enter the mind along with dreams of a last minute place in Team GB for the Sochi 2014 Winter Olympics.

As I approached one of the fastest parts of the track, I steadied the sled, cornering with all the precision of a Pendolino train as I approached maximum speed. Unfortunately, my dreams of standing next to Chemmy Alcott at the Opening Ceremony of the winter games was gone in a flash as I suddenly saw Lee on the other side of the corner with the terrified little girl immediately in front of him. Inspite of applying maximum brake, I smashed into the back of Lee with a big impact that tore the brake mechanism off of his sled.

This caused panic among the staff and the first aider was duly dispatched to check out any injuries. To their credit, the parents of the girl came over and were very apologetic, perhaps realising that they maybe should’ve discouraged her from going on the run. It was clear that his wrist was swollen and it was recommended to go to casualty, though this idea was met with a mocking laugh and the first aider was asked if casualty had a bar. Forms were filled and statements taken in order that the company could try and distance themselves from any blame. As it happened, the injury was not as bad as first feared and all everyone wanted was to just get on with things, though there would have been much less chance of an accident if they had a few strategically placed lights to warn of any incidents throughout the track. Unfortunately, the incident led to us being referred to as collision Colin and rear-ended Lee by certain merciless individuals in the gathering.

Later that afternoon I joined Guy and Luke on a shooting expedition on the grounds of the farm. This took us to the top fields where it is possible to have panoramic views of the Tamar.

 

 

 

Two of us would keep a lookout for potential kills and the other would have the responsibility of the gun. There was not many opportunities for a shot, though Guy aimed for a couple of birds but didn’t complete the kills. We were making our way back down towards the house when Luke spotted a rabbit within 40 feet of the gate. He then handed me the rifle, inviting me to try and take it out. Staring down the barrel of a shooter at a rabbit is probably the most inopportune moment to have the strains of Bright Eyes by Art Garfunkel come wafting through the mind.  I ended up pulling the gun too much to the right and the bunny was able to live to fight another day.

Guy and Luke did manage to make some kills in their early morning sorties to ensure that there was always something in the pot. Luke was able to shed his image of mid-management respectability by showing a great talent in skinning and cutting up with the sort of dexterity that would be expected of a butcher.

Saturday evening spent back at the farm where there was the usual robust banter. It is fair to say that the presence of Mr Magner and Mr Dufouleur had quite a bearing on the evening and perhaps caused some sore heads the next morning.

Sunday was a more relaxed day due to a mixture of some of the group having to depart early with work commitments and others who decided to take it more gently after the night before. On this relaxed day, it is nice to just sit on a seat in the paddock and watch the river go by.

 

 

It is often said that sequels are more disappointing than the original film but this particular trip should not be considered in the same light as Return to Oz. It was certainly quieter and more laid back than other lad’s weekends though was a nice opportunity to catch up with friends and have a few laughs in one of the most picturesque areas in the UK.