Daytrippin': Clovelly

Clovelly is one of the quaint tourist attractions (if not THE attraction) in the northern part of Devon (west of Appledore and the Ho! See map below) which is famous because, god DANG, it is steep. Dating back to the Norman Conquest, Clovelly is a town built into the cleft of a 400ft cliff. Why? No idea. None of the travel brochures actually addressed this madness. I like to think that it is the result of a drunken dare from one Lord to another. Oh the English! They sure know a thing or two about comedy hijinks! But I guess WHY is beside the point. Referenced in great English literature (Kipling, Dickens) it is privately owned (hence a hefty £8 entry fee) and has been so by 3 families since the beginning of (it’s) time. A fishing hub once, today it’s main bag must no doubt be tourists who come to see the sledges and donkeys that rule the town in place of cars. Oh how quaint! And sarcasm aside, there were elements of it that really took my fancy. No doubt had I not been holding onto a stupidly heavy pram as we descended the steepest cobbles known to man in minus 43 degree temperatures, I might have found myself quite besotted with the place.

As this daytrip happened on one of the last days of our holiday, we decided that Dave and I could both choose to visit the one place we felt we could not miss. Dave chose Clovelly. I chose The Big Sheep.

It's hard to see, but i attempted to circle The Big Sheep on the map. Now. Any good Australian worth their salt would expect to be greeted by the sight of an enormous fibreglass sheep. Indeed, I was almost beside myself at the prospect of an enormous sheep and on the verge of forgiving the English for the previous night’s fish and chips, Jordan and their dubious nationalisation of foreign cricket players. But after 5 years in this country: I should have known better... so i got what i deserved. (note: that link above could be the most inspiring thing I have seen on the internet in 2010. The big potato!)

no large sheep. In fact, not a sheep for miles. It was some sort of lame theme park. Lame, lame, lame.

Clovelly: Before the descent.

i have no idea why i spent so many years worrying about my chin when it is patently obvious the nose is the issue

obviously not dressed by mama.

top of the town

you may notice some clothes changing happening. An unexpected bonus from the rather small age gap between the two (plus Fred is so slight and rocco is tubba)

old cobbles!

it was this sort of thing that took my fancy. Lovingly placed on exhibition to the passing hoards, kitsch, slightly-mad--nana mementos. Just right for the type of person who would choose to live in this freaky unusual town

i must get one of these

sledge. And a bowl of water for passing doggies. How kind

sorry doggies.

this never gets old does it? I would have born 6 of these had the store been open

how things are transported into the town

fruit

tiny but genuinely charming harbour. Tide out (duh)

i can’t even tell you how steep (and high) these stairs are. Something of a pansy when it comes to heights, i’m surprised i got close enough to take this

clovelly from below. Only took 15 minutes, 43 swearwords, 4 arguments and 2 heather meltdowns.

the truck that took the less able (aka pram inflicted) back to the top of the hill. probably the mine and fred’s fav bit. Mine because it heralded car heating and Fred’s because... well... we’re in the back of a ute. Unfortunately unable to exactly capture the sheer joy on his face.

heartbreaking conclusion to ute ride