March 2012 – Stepping off the Treadmill

The Spice Trail

Tim, Jennifer, Jan and I all love to cook. We love to eat, to talk about food and laugh around the table together. Early on in our stay here in Salcombe, we developed a wonderful companionship around the making of meals. Someone would usually announce, at some point in the morning, “I’ll make lunch today.” “Great,” someone else would say, “I’ll make dinner.”

And so we managed to rotate the cooking and planning. It all seemed to be based on our own private work schedule. Writing might be going really well, and you might not want to break your rhythm. Magically, someone else is cooking. Or perhaps you find you need a break, need distraction, need time to think while chopping vegetables. Everyone else is happy to give you space and time in the kitchen.

Salcombe fulfills our grocery needs incredibly well. There is only one little grocer, Cranch’s, run by two lovely sisters. It is filled with local produce. Gorgeous fresh vegetables, different varieties of apples, fresh herbs. There are packaged local condiments from the Devon chili farm. There is local hand picked crab. The store also caters to exotic tastes. We are able to get Nam Pla and coconut milk, arborio rice and polenta. But Cranch’s is, at heart, a wonderful neighbourhood store. There is a wall of dried spices behind the counter and one day I asked if they had any bay leaves. The owner looked up and said, “Yes, but there’s a huge bay tree around the corner. You can just go pick what you need there. I’ve got lots in my back yard too, but the tree around the corner is closer.”

Aside from the grocer’s, there is one butcher in Salcombe. It is a beautiful store, filled with local Devon pork, lamb, chicken and beef. The meat is exquisite, and the butcher is knowledgeable and helpful, supplying great cooking ideas. He also carries some of the finest Devon cheeses I have ever tasted.

Down the road is a beautiful bakery. The breads and buns are lovely and fluffy and fresh. The bakery also makes perfect little squares called Flap Jacks that we sometime indulge in for our afternoon tea. And next store to the bakery is a wine and liquor merchant where we can find wines from all over the world, in various price brackets.

All of these wonders are on the main street, two blocks from our cottage. We look for excuses to go down to the shops.

Entertaining company is a great excuse for shopping and cooking. And this week, we’ve had some very entertaining company to cook for.

Jan has a couple of friends in Canada who, on hearing she was going to be in Salcombe said “Oh, you must meet Denise Coffey.” Denise is a former actor and director, who spent time working in Canada. She is quite a legend in the UK, having acted in such classic films as “Waltz of the Toreadors” and “Georgie Girl”. In fact she discovered Salcombe when she was in Devon filming “Far From the Madding Crowd”. She has lived here for over 30 years and now spends most of her time painting and rescuing damaged seagulls and cats.

Denise, who now goes by the name of Moll, is a vegetarian and we’ve wanted to have her over for dinner. We had gone to see the new movie “The Most Exotic Marigold Hotel” and that put us in mind of Indian cooking. “Indian Ratatouille” requires a good supply of spices and patience to chop lots of veggies. But it is worth finding the ingredients. It’s a fabulous recipe.

We’ve learned from previous experience to bring spices with us when we travel. Otherwise we are buying new boxes and jars in every place we stay. Also, you can’t always expect to find Panch Phoran in your neighbourhood store, no matter how wonderful it is. You can’t always count on a neighbourhood Bay Laurel. So we came prepared, travelling with some of the more exotic spices.

Thank goodness we had packed our Panch Phoran. Moll was, I think, very impressed.

The other visitors that we had this week were Mal Peet and Elspeth Graham, the wonderful writer friends who we met last fall in Exmouth. It was really exciting to see them again and to take them on one of our favourite local walks to Snapes Point, through gently wooded areas and fields of gamboling lambs. The point overlooks one of the arms of the Salcombe Estuary and the millionaire’s cottages across the harbour. The church bells can still be heard chiming in the distance.

Snapes Point. Elspeth, Amanda, Mal and Tim

Jan, Jennifer, Tim and I all had a hand in putting together the dinner for Mal and Elspeth. The new tastes for us were Jan and Jennifer’s contributions. Jan made her fabulous Umeboshi salad. Umeboshi is a dried, pickled plum from Japan. Ume vinegar is salty and sour and Jan uses it in a Kale salad that we are all crazy for.

Jennifer made a delicious Pear and Ginger Crumble and served it with Salcombe Dairy ice cream. It was a fabulous night of eating, drinking, and sitting by the fire to talk about books, art and, of all things, the Canadian constitution.

We have been thrilled to discover the tastes and sounds, smells and sights of Devon, as well as to share some of our own favourite recipes with new friends.

Devon Coastal Paths, Part Two

On a recent Saturday walk we decided that we had sufficiently built up our thigh muscles to face a tougher walk. The Hope Cove to Salcombe walk is on the south west side of the peninsula and we were told it had some rugged paths, with some degree of difficulty. The gauntlet was thrown.

There are very few busses in or out of Salcombe, so we had to coordinate our time carefully, taking a bus to the tiny nearby town of Malborough and then transferring to a bus to take us to Hope Cove.

At the heart of Malborough is the parish church, founded around 1200 AD. With its 13^thcentury stone vaulted roof and a perfectly preserved pointed spire sitting atop a hill, it can been seen throughout the countryside. We waited outside the post office beside the church for our bus.

Hope Cove sits nestled between Inner Hope and Outer Hope. (I am not making these names up. We had quite a debate as to where one would rather live – in Inner Hope or in Outer Hope.) Hope Cove was a favourite among smuggles, and the tiny cob cottages with thatched roofs made us feel we were in the midst of a novel.

Just off the cove is Burgh Island where there is a complete Art Deco hotel. The site is associated with Agatha Christie’s book “And Then There Were None” as well as the Hercule Poirot mystery “Evil Under the Sun” and many celebrities have stayed in the hotel over the years. We could only view it through a telephoto lens, unfortunately.

Devon — The Art Deco Burgh Island Hotel, "The Great White Palace"

We made our way out of Inner Hope and headed up toward the cliff, only to discover a group of 25 hikers, most a bit older than us, on the path. We raced ahead, knowing that it would be best to be in front, rather than behind the pack. They were stopping from time to time for guided information, but they were keeping a fair clip. The nation of walkers was showing us some of their best.

We burned our thighs up toward Wolf Rock and Bolt Tail, high above the water, crossing an Iron Age Fort embankment.

We passed by lines of pre-historic standing stones, stretching out into the distance.

The path took us through Bolberry Down, a beautiful grazed area filled with sheep and new spring lambs. In 1760 a Spanish ship went down off the coast of Bolberry Down, killing 700 men. Another wreck. More lost hopes.

We made a pit stop at the one habitation on our route, Port Light, which is a small collection of buildings formerly a part of RAF Hope Cove. Asking about the road ahead, we were told that it was rough in places, that we had a section coming up with a lot of highs and lows but that after that things got flat. “Should take you about 3 hours,” the proprietor of the Port Light restaurant told us, eying our greying hair. “I do it in about 2 ½”.

After a few bites of apple and lovely Devon cheese, we set out with will and determination. From the high cliffs, the path led us down to the tiny beach at Soar Mill. Isolated and perfectly proportioned, it is a place to come back and spend a day lazing.

The path led us up again. The way was very steep and Jan was glad of her walking poles.

The high path took us through a field of lovely, friendly Shetland ponies with whom we shared the last bit of our apple. (I think they may have been “Sharptor Shetlands”)

We huffed and puffed our way up to Bolt Head, the most southerly point of Devon. I clamboured out as far as I could go, well beyond Jan and Tim’s comfort level. I managed to take a picture of myself, on the edge.

The rocks were right behind my head. There was nothing between me and the ocean far below. I turned around to realize that I was alone and mildly terrified of going back down. I slide down gingerly on my backside.

We rounded the corner, dodging sheep, to look down on the green blue waters of Starehole Bay and the dramatic rocks of Sharp Tor. These are “metamorphic rocks”, rocks that have changed their nature through pressure or heat. They are incredibly dramatic formations that look like they have been squeezed out of the earth and are ready to fall on unsuspecting hikers below.

We continued on toward Salcombe, past the small luxury hotels in South Sands, the enthusiastic dog beach at North Sands, past the million pound homes and cottages along the coast.

It had been a good 9 mile walk, and yes, took us about 3 hours to complete from Port Light. We ended the adventure with a bowl of crab bisque and a pint, in front of the fire at our favourite Salcombe pub, The Victoria Inn. The perfect place to massage weary feet.

Devon Coastal Paths, Part One

This is a nation of walkers. And the coastal paths of the National Trust are wonderful. They are varied, well marked and well used. Apparently between 50 – 100 million people visit the National Trust coast and countryside properties each year. The coastal paths circumnavigate the country, inspiring people of all capacities to get out and marvel at the beauty of “this scepter’d isle, This earth of majesty”.

We’ve been going on walks every day. There are a number of good 4 – 5 mile hikes that we can take right from our doorstep. On Saturdays, we try to choose longer paths of 5 – 10 miles.

The Salcombe to Gara Rock hike began with a ferry ride across the harbor to the East Portlemouth side of the estuary. A paved road led us to the sandy beach of Mill Bay, a perfect, fine sand beach with a few bouncing dogs and children out enjoying the spring weather.

The path then began its ascent, taking us past Biddlehead Point, Sunny Cove and the Hipples until the headland turned and we faced the full force of the Atlantic. Historically, vigorous sea trade moved through these waters. For centuries, the mariner’s existence both contrasted and complimented the tranquil rural existence of the farmers. Unlike other rocky shores, the soil here is rich and arable. On the headland opposite, Deckler’s Cliff, we could see Bronze age field systems, clearly visible as earthworks under the soil. It is humbling to think that this land has been under cultivation for thousands of years, and it still retains its rural roots.

We negotiated paths up and down the cliff face past Great Abraham’s Hole and Little Abraham’s Hole to the lookout at Gara Rock. (Sometimes I think the best thing about these walks are the names.)

Just beyond Gara Rock is Moor Sand, where, in 1977, a cache of Bronze Age weapons was found. Archeologists believe that a ship want down here about 3,000 years ago. There has only ever been one other pre-historic wreck found in England.

The waters off these shores are treacherous. The Salcombe Canon wreck, also in this area, found coins and jewels from the 16th and 17^th centuries, helping archeologists trace trade between England and Morocco. They think there is probably still a lot more to be found.

From Gara Rock we went down to the beach at Seacombe Sand, a perfect place for our packed picnic of delicious Salcombe Crab sandwiches.

But we didn’t dawdle, as it looked like a storm might be blowing up. We headed back through deep green leafy woods, a less steep, less dramatic path but one that offered an entirely different flora.

The path spilled us back at Mill Bay. The rain held off. I curled up with a rock for a back rest, Tim paddled about in barefeet at the water’s edge and Jan searched for perfect shells. The perfect end to a dramatic day.

Retreating to Devon

As I write this, I am looking out over a quiet estuary, dotted with small fishing boats and sail boats. The lush green hills on the opposite shore slope down to meet the water’s edge. Gulls are swooping and calling as the tide comes in.

We’ve come to Salcombe, in Devon, for a month of writing and walking. We’ve rented a house, inviting our friend Janet and Tim’s sister Jennifer to share in our retreat.

We have each staked our claim to a work area, and spend days working on different projects. But we make sure to take time for long rambles in the Devon countryside, challenging our thigh muscles on the hills.

The Salcombe and Kingsbridge Estuary is in the South Devon “Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty”. It is also a “Site of Specific Scientific Interest”. The estuary is not, strictly speaking an estuary. It is a “ria”, a drowned river valley that is fed by the sea rather than by a large river. It is tidal all of the way up to Kingsbridge, 5 miles inland. As the tides go in and out, they leave long mud flats, shallow along the shoreline at low tide. These flats provide rare and important habitats to a host of marine species. It is a paradise for wading birds and otters, crabs, clams, seahorses and mussels.

Salcombe has been known for shipbuilding, smuggling and crab fishing. The estuary is treacherous with sandbars and jutting rocks that have caused a number of spectacular shipwrecks over the centuries. Recently they discovered a Bronze Age sea wreck off the coast. Henry VIII built a castle here to defend the estuary again the French and Spanish pirates.

Historically the town’s claim to fame is as the last stronghold of the Royalist forces during the English civil war. During the civil war, Sir Edward Fortesque held the castle, called Fort Charles, defending the Royalist town of Salcombe until it was clear that the rest of the country had conceded to Oliver Cromwell. Parliament ordered the castle destroyed, siting that it was “too dangerous” to leave it standing.

In the days of sailing vessels, Salcombe was an important shipping port, with the specially designed Salcombe Schooners sailing to Iberia, the Mediterranean, the Caribbean, the Azores and Newfoundland. They returned with exotic fruits, sugar, coconut, rum and wood for ship building. But with the advent of steam ships, shipping moved to deeper waters elsewhere along the coast.

During the Second World War, Salcombe became an “Advance Amphibian Base” for the US Navy. On June 4, 1944, 66 ships sailed from Salcombe to the DD invasion at Normandy. There is a plaque dedicated to the American men who lost their lives in that battle, and one of the docks has been named the Normandy Dock. Even in little Salcombe, the impact of war is a fact of life.

Now, however, the town is primarily known as a place for pleasure boating and holiday-making. The houses and cottages in the old part of town are immaculately kept.

The steep hills hold the village in, encouraging it to remain tiny and perfect. The main street is about 5 blocks long. The population is around 2,000, although our landlord says that increases 100 fold in the summer. Interestingly, the real estate prices are the second highest in England outside of London. The “townies” who were born here, or who have family property, would never be able to afford the prices that the people from away are willing to pay for this piece of paradise.

But we are here in the off-season. The village is just beginning to gear up for its busy summer. Some shops will remain closed until Easter, and the few that are open are painting trim and washing windows. We get to mix and mingle with the folks who actually live here.

From my writing window, I can see the tiny village of East Portlemouth across the harbour. We decide to make it our first “major” outing from Salcombe.

For £1.50 each, Jan and I took a ferry across, to see things from the other side. The ferry takes less than 5 minutes, and is simply an open boat with seats for about 10. There are other ferries in the high season connecting to other places on the estuary, but at this time of year there is just the one and it runs across every half hour.

East Portlemouth used to be a thriving port in the 14^th century, but in the 19^th century the Duke and Duchess of Cleveland, who owned all of the land, dispossessed the tenant farmers to amalgamate all of their lands. All of the cottages were destroyed. Today, there are probably on 20 people who live in East Portlemouth. That’s just a guess. It is known for its extreme beauty and isolation, and for having a few very wealthy second home-owners sparking an interesting political struggle. A local landowner who has lived in East Portlemouth all of her life wants to build some cottage homes for low-income families. She feels that it will keep the village alive if there are ordinary people can still afford to live there. However, the millionaire second home-owners are not in favour. A large excavation is taking place. I am not sure who is winning the battle.

We walked up to the ancient church on the hill, the church of St. Winwaloe. The church was built in the 12^th century on the site of a 10^th century church, under the reign of King Athelstan. King Athelstan (the great grandson of King Alfred) had come from Brittany, the birthplace of the Celt St. Winwaloe (462-532 AD). After St. Winwaloe’s death, monks travelled throughout Devon and Cornwall founding monasteries and churches.

St. Winwaloe’s was locked on the day that we were there, but we were treated to ravens calling from the tower.

The church graveyard includes 17^th and 18^th century tombstones of sailors and smugglers.

From the church we had a choice of several footpaths and decided that we’d head along the high path, so that we could take in a larger view. Salcombe is nestled into the hills, down by the water’s edge, and it has been hard to figure out exactly what the coast looks like. And this way, we can enjoy the million-pound view for free. We walked along the top of the hill toward High House Farm and the ocean opened out in front of us.

An area of outstanding beauty. Indeed. Thank goodness we have a month to explore. The walks are just beginning.

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