Overbecks is a small National Trust property at Sharpitor, overlooking Salcombe in the South Hams. The house is Edwardian with a surrounding garden of about seven acres. It is named after it’s last private owner, Otto Overbecks. The house has a small museum, a collection of rather bizarre objects, some of which I’ll try to show you in a few days. The drive down to Overbecks isn’t one that I’d bother with for the house, but the garden is a sub tropical delight, surrounded by woodlands. To get there take the A381 as far as the hill leading down into Salcombe, and then pray that you don’t meet any vehicles along the way. The road goes down steeply with sharp bends big gaps between passing places, cars parked anywhere they can, before it climbs back up around hairpin bends that give you white knuckles. This is coming from a Devon lass, who fearlessly drives narrow, winding lanes in the dark. Of course you might get lucky and not meet a soul! Parking is limited, but we were lucky, so we climbed the last quarter mile up the hill.
Where this view waited.
Through the imposing wooden gate.
And the first of many lovely paths opened up.
But we won’t go down the steps to the lower garden yet, we’ve had a long drive and need some refreshments. This is the view from the café.
I really wanted to sit in the conservatory.
Can you see those legs stretched out between the plants? Well there were two very comfy seats, but every time I went past they were occupied, how rude!
Let’s stretch our legs, gently of course, it’s too warm for dashing about.
The planting is very exotic.
Some lush bark for Meg.
Something blue in the distance, but we’ll check that out later.
I liked the look and feel of the stair rails.
No I’m known for my wonky horizons, but honestly it wasn’t me, the silver pear trees were growing sideways.
There’s one of several lawned areas up on the high garden. I failed to capture the true magenta colour of the gladioli’s, never mind, I can see it in my mind’s eye, and you can see how bright the sun was.
This lass is a lot more calm.
Looking down over the wall there is a small, but very neat box garden.
We walked on down to try to find it, but got waylaid in this sunroom.
Surrounded by the banana garden.
which of course had Datura’s as well. I should make the effort to call them Brugmansia, but is doesn’t roll off the tongue as nicely does it?
I could sit there all day, but there are lots more lovely plants to see, so off I stroll.
Up another flight of steps,
to the highest point and the best view.
Some more exotica on the way down for ice cream, Salcombe Dairy Honeycombe, it would be rude not to.
I still didn’t get to sit in here!
So it’s back down the lane, past the Acer glade.
I probably only strolled a mile and a half around Overbecks, but I think Jo would like it there and happily share the walk. If you come to Devon and like the idea of visiting Overbecks, I’d go on a weekday during school term, the last couple miles of road should be a lot easier.
These fir cones, like my feet, are rather large!
There’s been some storm damage in recent years,
But plenty of new tree planting.
We’ll walk beside the river Sid for a while.
There are remains of a jetty.
Benches everywhere to watch the world go by.
Leaving the river, we’ll go up a gentle rise towards Golden Copse, 
in Margaret’s Meadow.
The sky became even bluer.
We were surrounded by birds, but most were too high in the trees. Never mind this robin gave us a lovely solo performance.
Looking west they were roaring and churning.
and to the east, just as rough and the distant cliffs of Lyme Bay were hidden in the sea mist.
We wandered down the slipway by the breakwater. The only shelter from the wind was up close to the wall.
But there was more to see on the pebbles, I liked the black and white one and was tempted to take it home, but didn’t.
The lifeboat man 😉 stood guard opposite the RNLI station, he’s been waiting there for a very long time.
We’ll come back and check the cliffs a bit later. For now we’re having a little respite from the wind, and heading for town.
The Square will be elbow to elbow with people in six months time, for the folk festival, but all is quiet on the last Friday in January.
The Anchor is a lovely pub, all year round and they host live music and even story telling during the festival.
We had hot chocolate and rich, buttery shortbread in a favourite seafront café, Mocha, and then tempted by a bit of blue sky, stepped across the esplanade.
We watched for a while and I must say I was glad to see him safely back on the beach (excuse the photo, my i phone can’t manage the distance).
The empty esplanade is waiting for summer, just as I am.
For now we’ll head into the sea mist, towards the cliffs.
At the end of the promenade the river Sid trickles into the sea, and it’s no longer safe to walk on that part of the beach, because of the frequent landslides that are eroding the sandstone.
Can you see the pieces of wood dangling down from the clifftop? It’s the remains of a fence that was previously beside the south West Coast Path, at the bottom of someone’s garden. Lots of Britain’s coastline is being reclaimed by the sea, gradually washing away. Sidmouth could look very different in a few generations from now.
I don’t know if this is a blue hydrangea losing it’s colour very slowly or a variety that I’ve never seen, but it was a subtle beauty.
Lucid Gypsy 