There have been many milestones for our family this year which meant, like many other people, we made a lot of plans that have been thwarted by Covid. Starting in January, Jason’s parents, my in-laws, celebrated their golden wedding anniversary and we had organised to go on holiday with them in the summer to mark the occasion. In April it was our son, Jack’s 30th birthday; fortunately, because of lock down he spent it with us. In May it was our youngest son, Will’s 18th and then in June it was Jason’s 50th. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not complaining – as drinking Champagne in the garden and eating wonderful food featured on all these occasions. I actually feel very fortunate that compared to so many people we haven’t been too badly affected by the Corona Virus. In fact, for us, it has been a positive experience in many ways.
To mark Jason’s 50th we were booked to watch England play cricket and float around the Aegean Sea on a boat, island hopping. On top of all that we are celebrating our 20 year anniversary this summer so because everything else had been cancelled I did something I’ve never done before. Without Jason knowing I went on Air B&B and booked us three days in a camper van. Afterwards I panicked, especially when our son, Will, was rather disparaging saying I could have booked somewhere much better. I’m sure this was partly due to him being unimpressed that we were leaving him at home to look after Hilary, our chicken. Fortunately, it all worked out well as Jason was surprised and excited when I told him we were going wild swimming and staying on Dartmoor as it’s something we’ve often talked about, but never got round to.
We left home in brilliant sunshine heading for Sharrah Pool on the River Dart. Arriving at the car park was a shock because it seemed that everyone else in Devon had the same idea as us. We managed to squeeze into the last parking space. Behind our car a dappled pregnant mare stood next to her tiny black foal completely unfazed by the car park chaos, and several people stroking them both. She made me laugh by hopefully sticking her nose into the ice cream van. She has obviously worked out how to make the most of tourists visiting where she lives!
Prior to going away we borrowed a map from one friend and another gave us directions. We began walking with Otis, our black lab, excitedly zigzagging from one scent to the next along the paths. Walking through shady woodland was a relief after the intense heat and we found a waterfall where he had a splash and a drink. What struck me while walking was just how many different shades of green there are. The leaves in the shade were bottle green so different to those with the sun gilding them and the grass was the colour of gooseberries. It’s at times like that when I wish I was a painter and could try to capture the different hues on my palette and paper. Unfortunately I can only paint with words and take photographs.
We followed the river for a few miles until eventually we found the pool where it widened out and there were rocks to sunbathe on. We found one away from everyone else and laid down our blanket to have a picnic of sandwiches, crisps and strawberries and read our books. All we could hear was the gurgle of the river and birdsong. I’m one of those people who has to be absolutely boiling before I get into cold water. Once I’d sunbathed for a while and began overheating I took the plunge. It was utterly freezing, but very refreshing.
The pathway back was decorated with lacy pools of light where the sunlight pierced through the gaps in the trees and onto the ground. We were excited to book into the camper van and find out where we would be staying. Situated at a farm on the edge of Drewsteignton, we received a warm welcome from Tina, our host, a lovely Irish woman who was very impressed at how relaxed Otis was. She showed us round and gave us her insider knowledge around the best wild swimming spots. The van was perfect – particularly as it was set in a paddock that we had all to ourselves. Outside was a table and chairs, a fire pit and our own toilet in a shed. On one side we were flanked by a fence smothered in fragrant pink and white roses. The other was open to the view of rolling hills surrounding us. In the adjacent field were friendly horses.
We booked to have dinner at The Ring of Bells, in North Bovey, a tiny village centred around a large green. Sipping my gin and tonic in the sunshine was a high point. The pub dates back to the Middle Ages and is a long, low building, painted white, with thick oak doors. The windows are small and between each one are hanging baskets dripping with summer flowers: violet and indigo lobelia fight for space among pale pink and scarlet geraniums and ivy cascading out in all directions. Positioned in a courtyard surrounded by old thatched cottages it was picture perfect and Otis was welcome too. The food was delicious – not your average pub grub – we ate well and were full up when we returned to the van where the horses whinnied in welcome. We sat and drank wine under the wide cornflower sky before it turned gold and then pink and the sun disappeared behind the hills.
With no light pollution it got properly dark. It was romantic to watch hundreds of stars emerging from the inky sky. And heaven to fall asleep with the curtains open.
The following morning dawned bright and clear and after bacon butties we made a packed lunch. Following Tina’s advice we drove for five minutes, parked on the side of a road, hoisted our rucksacks onto our backs and entered the grounds of Castle Drogo. The River Teign was on our right, wide and sparkling in the light – looking very inviting. Unfortunately a huge herd of cows were cooling off and blocking our path. Nervously we inched past them keeping Otis to heel as we’ve had some bad experiences of being chased in the past. At one point they got spooked and all started moving towards us which made us quicken our steps. Jason is a magnet for farm animals. They seem to find him threatening; either that, or they can sense his intense fear! I think probably the latter; however, we managed to pass unscathed and found ourselves in some woods.
As we walked we were getting hotter and hotter and began to look for a swimming spot. The trees were so high around the water that the sun couldn’t reach in wherever we found an accessible bit of river, so we kept walking in the hope of finding the perfect sunny place. Exploring those woods was exciting as we had never been there before. It felt magical – like we were in a fairy tale – especially when the path turned into a steep flight of steps hewn from the rocks. It felt ancient and untouched. Whenever I walk in old places like that I imagine the people who have been there before me over hundreds of years. I feel an affinity with them and, in doing so, feel I become a part of its history too.
The steps were gravity defying. Stopping at the top, on a narrow stone ledge to catch our breath, we watched the river rushing over rocks far below us. At the bottom three ponies stood on the path staring at us as we passed them. It is one of the most tranquil walks I have ever been on – a really special moment in my life that I shall always remember.
Climbing the steps and walking for over an hour had made us sweaty and keen to swim. I was beginning to give up when we turned a corner and there it was: a little beach in a clearing with no trees where we made a camp with our blanket and towels. It even had little natural steps leading down to the water.
The sun was at its height and had warmed the water as well, While we swam, fish darted past us and we tried to persuade Otis to join us and go in further than his legs. He refused, as usual, making a couple walking on the other side of the riverbank laugh at the idea of a Labrador who doesn’t like swimming. Further down the river, in the distance, were large rocks where people were practising yoga in the sunshine – idyllic!
We were fortunate to have the beach to ourselves for a while while we dried off, read our books and ate lunch. More and more people kept walking past glancing enviously at our set up as it was gloriously hot. A large family came and started splashing around so we decided to leave them to it and keep walking along to Fingle Bridge where we had agreed to meet Will for lunch. I invited him as he was sounding a bit lonely when I rang him to check he was all right. From the peace of the woods we entered into madness – people everywhere – in the river – and at the pub. Luckily we got a table and he found us.
I’ve never been there before and although it is absolutely stunning, from a picturesque perspective, there was far too much going on. It was lovely to see Will and we enjoyed eating lunch before he headed home.
It took us over an hour to get back through the woods. We were relieved to find that the cows had moved away by the time we got back to the field where we started several hours before. Before going back to the car we were so hot that we found a tiny stony beach and had another dip while Otis chased some sticks and splashed about.
Back at the van we cooked a barbecue and drank wine. It was incredibly peaceful and relaxing – just us alone – living in the moment (which I’m generally not very good at). We reminisced about when we met and how much everything (including us) has changed so much in the past 20 years. Some things for the better some for worse. We made plans for the future as we are about to enter a new phase in our lives – one without children – as Will, the last one, is off to university in September.
While watching another stunning sunset we discussed where we were going for our third and final wild swimming adventure the following day. We decided that after breakfast, we’d pack up the last bits of food we had left over, check out of the van and and head towards Okehampton.
We were looking for a place called Cullever Steps, a natural pool. It was roasting as we turned off the main road and began driving through the moor – alongside crumbling dry stone walls – past shaggy sheep and ponies munching grass. Once we got out to walk great rocks of granite stood like sentinels and the road became narrower and steeper. After walking through shaded woodland for two days it was wonderful to walk on the open moor under the most enormous blue sky where buzzards wheeled and cried overhead. Steep craggy tors surrounded us as we climbed a huge hill. Reaching its peak we felt like we were on top of the world.
At the bottom of the hill below us we could see the pool shimmering in the sunlight. Walking down was hard going through rocks and high ferns. Once we sat down we couldn’t believe we had it all to ourselves. Little black fish kept leaping out of the water making a loud plop as they fell back in. Out of all three wild swimming spots we discovered, this was my favourite. Floating on my back looking around me I felt like the luckiest woman alive. The water was still, clear and cool, the scenery was stunning and our only neighbours were sheep and ponies.
As we started walking home we heard lots of noise and saw some kids with swimming things and lilos. We made a short detour and followed them to investigate. Turning a corner we saw a large natural pool full of kids with rubber rings, swimmers and people paddling dinghies surrounded by people sunbathing. We were shocked as it was so close to where we had been and such a contrast to the peaceful experience we had just had. That was obviously, Cullever Steps, the place with the pool on the map, that we were initially looking for. I’m so pleased we didn’t find it and found the smaller one instead. About five minutes away from our car, mist obscured the tors, the sky turned steely and clouds started rolling in. The weather changed in an instant, the heavens opened, great drops of rain making us run for cover. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect as it coincided with the end of our holiday.
We had a fabulous adventure on Dartmoor which wouldn’t have happened if we had done all the other things we had planned for this summer. I feel very lucky to have such a wonderful place on our doorstep and can’t wait to go back again… 2020 has been a very strange year and definitely a time to appreciate the benefits of getting closer to nature.
Love, Life and Lemons 