First of all, I’ll confess that the title of the post was going to be the weirdest no the wierdest pub but I couldn’t make my mind up how to spell it. Do you ever get letter blind and unable to spell a word that you’ve written a million times? Please don’t all say no, you’re losing it G 🙂
Anyway, back to the strange pub. It’s called the Highwayman and it’s on Dartmoor. Here he is holding up a coach!
and a gallery, click for a bigger view.
Here’s the man himself, unless you want to risk highway robbery,get off the moor before night falls.
What a weird place, I’ve heard it’s even stranger inside. They have rooms if you want to stay, but of course it’s haunted.
Paula over at Lost in Translation has asked us to post photos of the same scene in landscape and portrait format. I often forget that I have a choice, and landscape is jut there isn’t it? I hope this challenge will make me thing more often about how totally different an image can be, just with a turn of the camera.
Dartmoor granite was used to build the old London Bridge, the one that’s now a tourist attraction somewhere in the Arizona desert. Luckily there’s still plenty left to scramble on, and take photos of!
This is Bonehill Rocks, a couple of miles from Haytor. I went at the weekend, and had a bit of scramble myself. In fact I had to bump my way down on my derriere, holding on to absolutely nothing except my breathe.
Walking through a field of large black and white Friesian cows can be a little anxiety provoking, if something spooks them and they stampede, it can be very risky, so much as I like them, I tend to keep my distance.
Never mind, my two favourite breeds of cattle are the Belted Galloway and these Highlands, both small breeds and even with horns there’s nothing scary about them. Highlands have been around since the 6th century, hardy little beasties that can tolerate very cold climates, and root around under snow to find food, on sparsely vegetated uplands.
They seem to thrive on Dartmoor, gathering in companionable groups, always with a benign look on their faces.
If you can find their faces beneath their shaggy overcoats!
Paula has give us five words to choose from as the theme for her Thursday Special, and i rather liked companionable. You can pop over and choose one for yourself if you’d like to join in, you’ll find warm welcome.
Have you ever felt like the world was being a bit too rowdy? Where things and people were pushing in, crowding out your quiet thoughts — the ones that need time and space to surface?
Whenever I feel like an away day it’s invariably to the moor, the coast or a beautiful garden. Luckily there are many, many choices of each in wonderful Devon.
For total escapism there is Dartmoor. There are busy places there, Haytor on a summer weekend has a great many visitors, some of whom do not even get out of their cars. Even there, if you’re prepared to walk and scramble a little way, you will find some peace.
For those in the know there are still places where you might not meet a soul, this is one of them.
Not a lot of rowdiness going on.
For a bit of a stroll and some invigorating sea air, try this Bristol Channel view.
Some of the path can be a bit hard on the knees though!
If a pootle, with lunch or tea and cake is called for – and it often is,
nothing on earth beats an English garden for beauty, peacefulness, fragrance and colour.
Where is your happy place?
Bridges, they cross rivers, roads, railways, and valleys and borders. They can be built of stone, wood, rope and metal. Their symbolism is vast, at birth as we separate from mother, as transition points throughout life, and into the unknown of death
‘That is the road we all have to take, over the bridge of sighs into eternity’ Soren Kierkegaard.
We speak of building bridges instead of walls when relationships have broken down .
We all have favourite bridges don’t we? this is one of mine. It’s a Clapper bridge and if you’ve ever travelled across Dartmoor in Devon there’s a fair chance that you’ve stopped and admired it.
It’s believed that it dates back to the 13th century to enable pack horses to cross the river Dart. Personally it symbolizes a connection with that distant past, a walk back in time. How many feet have walked across it since those ancestors laboured over its construction – from slabs of granite? How much or little has that landscape changed since then?
How would you photograph a symbol that has meaning for you? that’s this week’s photo challenge, perhaps you’ll join in.
Show us your muse, says Brie Anne Demkiw. What subject keeps me coming back? Devon of course, it’s the most wonderful place in England and I’m very lucky to live here. I’ve posted many times about the coast, the estuary and the river, and a little about my city. If I think of a muse, what springs to mind is Dartmoor, that expanse of wilderness that I love. Here are a few images from the moor, I hope you find them inspiring too.