4/2/16

A Day in CLOVELLY 1983


This week's Sepia Saturday prompt is a small village in England, Clovelly. I visited Clovelly a long time ago. I went out of my way to find it after having seen photos in a UK brochure.

The year of my trip was approximately eighteen months after an auto accident on Hollywood Boulevard. I'd spent ten months in physical therapy and was in the midst of a lawsuit to try and receive compensation for my losses. I was also on the verge of going nuts. My stress level was as high as it could go and I needed to leave everything behind. Find a place where for a short time I could shake out the cobwebs and feel free of everything. Yeah, so…the trip sort of worked.

The three months before my trip I'd spent fighting walking pneumonia. By the time I got to England the worst of it had passed, but I still had a horrible sounding cough that would shake the rafters in many old English hotels. So the reality was that Clovelly was not the best choice for me being that no vehicles are allowed and it's a walk down a steep cobblestone street from the car park followed by an even more stressful walk back up the same cobblestone street to the welcoming front seat of my rental car.




The cat as I went downhill.



The night before venturing to Clovelly I'd stayed in Bude and had gone to a local bakery in the morning to buy a meat pie for a "picnic" in Clovelly. When I travel I'm cheap; otherwise I could never afford to travel.

So meat pie in my purse, camera in my hand, I began my descent into Clovelly. The going down was easy. No problems. No coughing or lungs heaving. I stopped into a shop to buy a 7-UP. I stupidly assumed 7-UP would be available in England. I was wrong. I always got sold some weird concoction that wasn't lemonade or 7-UP. Generally it was pretty dreadful, but it's what they had so I bought it. As I wandered around the shop, eyeing ice cream bars, the owner asked, "Are you here for the job?" I turned and looked at him wondering if he was actually talking to me. I'm figuring I look like a tourist. I reek of tourist. Apparently not. I looked like a local and he wanted to know if I wanted a job. I told him no and he said, "Pity." Now I'm not a person used to compliments, but I took that as one and it made me smile and walk a little straighter down the hill. (I was not walking straight coming back up.)




I got to the bottom of the hill and heard people having a grand time in the Red Lion Hotel, probably very nice meals. But that was not my destination. I was heading for the beach for my picnic. Ummmmm…this is the beach. Not what a girl from California is used to. But I settled down on the stones with my lunch and my can of soda. It took a bit of work to move the stones around just right so my soda would sit level enough to not spill. Everything was going along fine and dandy until a hornet decided it wanted my soda. Let's just say it looked like a mad comedy routine with me battling the hornet for possession of the soda. Some people leave their hearts in San Francisco. I left my soda in Clovelly.

It just screams picnic!










The same cat as I climbed uphill. She'd seen all of this before.





Having had enough of my picnic I headed uphill. It was a slow and very painful climb. I was leaning on posts, buildings, bushes…anything to keep me upright and moving uphill. Eventually I crash landed on a curb conveniently just outside the doctor's office. I was sitting there gasping for air when he came out with his black medical bag heading for an appointment. He was not expecting to find someone doing heavy breathing at his front door.

"Are you okay."

I could manage a nod and a wave of my hand.

"Are you sure?"

A smile, a wave, and a thumbs up. I think I probably got out "Yes, thank you" but I can't be sure.


The donkeys who kept whispering to each other and laughing at me.




And the nice lady who let the wild haired heavy breathing woman take her picture. Bless her.



Eventually I made it back to the car park and the rental car with the worst automatic transmission in the world. I sat for awhile just breathing before thinking, "Okay, now where?" In a little while I was back on the road to my next destination.

I'd like to say my health improved as the weeks passed, but the reality is a few days after visiting Clovelly I was staying with a friend at her digs in Oxford where I got a concussion on a low pitched ceiling. So the rest of my trip was cough two, moan two, and try to not die in any hotel rooms.

I'm late getting my post in this Saturday, but I finally found the slides and decided to share my story. It's rare I share anything from my life more than a few odd bits and pieces. This is just a slightly longer bit and piece.

_____

18 comments:

  1. You had me hooked reading about your adventure. I am glad you made it back. Both the prompt and your photo have the New Inn!

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    1. Thank you. It was an adventure I look back on fondly. Just me, my maps, and my rental car.

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  2. Very well told. You were in a bit of a bad spot there for a while. What a coincidence that you were even in Clovelly!

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    1. Told my aunt and uncle about Clovelly and told them they had to visit. When they got home my aunt just stared at me and said, "You could have told us how steep it is."

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  3. At least you managed to take some great photographs despite your physical problems at the time. They are worth the effort! Those steep streets remind me of the town of Bellagio on Lake Como in Italy. You haven't dissuaded me from visiting Clovelly one of these fine days.

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    1. You have to pay now. I think it's around 7 pounds. I think I'd be willing to pay, but I'm not sure. It is a grand little place.

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  4. Well I’m glad you did decide to share; such perfect pictures and a tale of a valiant heroine battling the ravages of her illness.

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    1. Valiant heroine. I like that. I was thinking more worn out doofus.

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  5. I love your humor - even under not the best of circumstances! Hills & cobblestones are not my favorites either. When we visited Edinburgh Castle last fall, we came up the Royal mile, across the esplanade & over the bridge & I thought once through the gate everything would be level & was ready to breathe a huge sigh of relief. Oh ho! At the far end of the gate house I looked up, up, up a long steep cobblestone street & must have said a few choice words out loud because a few people turned around to stare. Unfortunately there were no rails, bushes, or other things to hang onto as I made my way up. But I did make it. And then I discovered that was only PART of the way up! But I made that too - eventually. And it WAS worth it, so I guess that was the important part. :)

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    1. Ah yes, Edinburgh. Imagine doing that climb with bad lungs and a concussion. I'll leave it to your imagination about how much fun I had.

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  6. The best adventure stories are about mishaps, blunders, and calamities, or just plain survival. Add a couple photos of picturesque village lanes, cute cats, and wild donkeys and you have a National Geographic special!

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    1. Indeed they are. Best stories are always the most insane events.

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  7. Great narrative! And your photos are the tops also. So glad you survived, and I have also been dealing with difficult breathing going uphil for years.

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    1. Thank you. At that age nothing kept me down. Now I'm not so sure.

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  8. Lovely recollection and photos!

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    1. Thank you. It's remained an wonderfully odd memory for me that I love.

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  9. Goodness! You are still here. Am just about to return to my Graveyard Detective blog after being lured to Facebook for a couple of years. I went to Clovelly in 1983. Lovely place! Perhaps we passed each other when I was going down? I walked back up the road through the trees. Ten years before that, I ran up the hilly road without difficulty = I was a young soldier, after all! Great photos and glad you refound them TAL.

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  10. I really enjoyed your photos! The place sort of looks like where "Doc Martin" of PBS TV is set.

    The hill looks like torture even for the hale and hardy!

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