I left about 0900, and the traffic wasn't too bad on the way down. I picked up my friend from East Allington, where he lives. I have been there many times, but it has been ten years since I last went.
I first arrived at Dartmouth just before Easter in 1981. Fresh-faced and straight from the Royal Marines School of Music, Britannia Royal Naval College was my first draft as a qualified Musician. I was back and forth to the town for the next thirty-five years.
My wife and I moved to East Devon in 2016. It was a big move to the unknown for us both then, and it wasn't easy at first. We are settled now and will not be moving too far anytime soon.
As I drove into town, I saw blue flashing lights on the other side of the college way. It is a well-known position for there to be a speed camera to catch the unwary driver, but this seemed a bit more. As I travelled past at the statutory thirty miles per hour, which was not easy on that hill, I could see what was happening.
We were lucky to find a parking spot on the north embankment for two hours. Interestingly, I am currently rewriting a couple of scenes from my novel, which I've staged on that embankment and the pontoons on the opposite side of the river. I've taken a bit of writer's liberty writing those scenes, and if you know the North Embankment at Dartmouth, you'll have to suspend your knowledge for a few minutes when you read it.
It was a nice walk down the riverfront, and when we got to the bank, the staff recognised me. I then spent a rather embarrassing couple of minutes trying to remember their last address on record for me. With a little prompt, I eventually remembered, thankfully.
Then I recognised a lady who came into the bank. I worked with her husband at Sandquay, the boatyard at the bottom of the naval college. Holger was our store manager; we were very fortunate to have him; he was vastly experienced and always kept us from going short of materials and stores. Being Danish and speaking a few other languages, he was a huge asset when we had to obtain prices and orders from abroad. It was lovely to chat with him for a short time outside of the bank. We could have talked for hours over a few beers. It was good to see him in good health and sounding really chirpy.
A little later, after we had completed our requirements at the bank, the postman came to the door as we were leaving. It wasn't Postman Pat but a former RM colleague of mine, Dickie. Many of you reading this will know who that is. It was good to have another quick chat.
A lovely coffee, a piece of carrot cake, and later, a return walk to the car and blow me down if I didn't meet another of my former colleagues from Sandquay. That was one period I enjoyed after leaving the RMs. The ten years I spent at the yard were a great time, and it was sad when the MOD didn't renew the lease for the site. It is pleasing to know that the guys we left behind are still working there in a smaller capacity than when we were made redundant, but they are still doing sterling service for the RN college, albeit with another company.
The drive back to East Devon has prompted this week's blog. It was the usual drag to get out to the A38 from Dartmouth; anyone who has made that journey will remember it well. I had the radio on, and just as I pulled onto the A38 at Buckfastleigh, the traffic report came on. Sure enough, a few miles ahead of me at Drumbridges was a hold-up. I drove as far as possible and wanted to avoid getting stuck in a hold-up. I dodged off the A38 towards Newton Abbot just as the traffic started building up.
I thought I had been clever, but to my horror, the town had traffic queues. I was stuck in that traffic for quite some time.
Once I got through the town and onto the A380, I was on my way again. It was the same journey home I made when working in Newton Abbot. To my horror, when I went over the River Exe, the traffic built up again to my exit off to the A30.
After about twenty minutes, I got through that hold-up and on to the last leg of the homeward journey. It was going well…until it built up to two lanes of traffic a couple of miles from the Honiton turnoff.
It was nice to be back home, but I was tired. I have heard it takes a week to recover per time zone after travelling. We were six time zones away in Mexico, but I think we are still halfway across the Atlantic.
Have a great week, everybody.
Great read as always Stu
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