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I was beginning to doubt the accuracy of google maps as the road to West Barn narrowed and the hedges grew more overgrown. We were travelling through the Devon farmland on our way to stay with family friends at their home of West Barn, but it seemed as if we were driving into the middle of nowhere! Dreading meeting an oncoming car or tractor, we trundled along the narrow country lanes - through tunnels of leafy green tree branches. But instead of traffic, we came across a cluster of cottages behind stone walls and, down a steep drive, West Barn. Karen greeted us with her sons Jamie and Ross, and warmly welcomed us into her country kitchen for cups of tea and home baking. Alisha, the 12 year old golden retriever, barked madly but soon got used to us and settled down with a dog treat.
West Barn is a three bedroom barn conversion which sits looking out over beautiful country views near the village of Stockland. The neighbouring buildings are the old farmhouse, another barn conversion, and a third cottage which used to be for cider-making. Of course it was raining when we arrived, so we didn't get the chance to see the rest of our immediate surrounds until the following morning.
Ross had kindly given over his bedroom to us and had set up a futon in the study. He was returning to university the following morning after spending most of his summer holiday in Madagascar working on a mapping project as part of his geography degree. Jamie, who works as an instructor at an outdoor pursuits centre, was planning to head back to his job in Dartmoor the day after. Karen rustled up a fabulous roast chicken dinner in her aga and we all sat around the dining table catching up. Karen had visited New Zealand last year around the Rugby World cup, but it had been five years since I'd last seen Ross, and even longer than that since I'd seen Jamie.
The sun was shining when we woke and we set off with Karen, Alisha and the boys for a walk around the lanes. Cute thatched cottages, blackberry brambles, grazing cows, and the occasional tractor. We passed a man leading a white pony and a short time later a sign on a gate reading 'Beware pony may bite'!
After lunch Jamie departed to drop Ross back at university, and Dale and I joined Karen on a trip to Lyme Regis, a typical English seaside town. School holidays meant that the beach was busy. The bucket and spade brigade seemed not to feel the chilly sea breeze as they splashed in the shallows, played on the beach, or queued at the fish and chip shop. Meanwhile I was in jeans, with jersey and jacket and still cold!! We passed the coloured doors of beach huts built along the curve of the beach. Most of the huts were occupied and had deck chairs positioned outside, some with tea making facilities (apparently an English essential even at the beach)!
We walked along the wild Cobb which was being lashed by waves and wind. It was cold up there on the exposed concrete breakwater, so we didn't stay long but retreated to a more sheltered spot - a cafe near an old mill which has been converted into an art gallery. As well as local artworks, the shops in the village stocked more original souvenirs, namely fossils excavated from nearby cliffs.
The following day the wet weather had returned and Jamie departed back to Dartmoor. I sat chatting with Karen in the kitchen and looking out at the rain, while Dale watched a movie. In the afternoon the rain eased up enough to tempt Dale and me to set off to the village of Horniton. The drive was pretty - more chocolate box cottages, hedge lined lanes, and red cattle. In Horniton Dale found a barber to cut his shaggy locks, a process less interesting in England than it had been in Morocco, so I went to look around the antique stores on the high street. A much more clean-cut Dale met up with me in an antique shop where I was browsing through coronation mugs and secondhand books. Although we had planned to have another classic English experience - a Devonshire cream tea - when we stepped into a cute cafe called Toast there were far more exciting creations on display in the food cabinet. A pretty pink Victoria sponge cupcake caught my attention, while Dale chose a less girly looking treat - a pecan slice.
Back at West Barn, Aunty Karen had prepared another beautiful aga meal. This time a lamb curry made with lamb pieces bought from the nearest farm shop. (The farm shop is stocked with all local produce, including homemade Cornish pasties and specialty ciders). By the time we left West Barn, we felt well and truly rejuvenated from our three nights of a comfortable bed, home cooked meals, and fresh laundry!
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