B2B Day 5 A Day of Rest

We didn’t set an alarm today, knowing that we were going to take it easy, not suspecting quite how easy we were going to take it. Ken said he felt the same as the day before, and not any better. We started with breakfast—a delicious granola with milk from our outdoor cooler (a terra cotta pot with lid nestled in a larger terra cotta pot that must have ice or cold water in it), and tea. Maybe around 9:30 Nigel delivered our fresh laundry. Sara had to sniff it when putting it away—she always gets excited about clean clothes.

It was misting and drizzling on and off, and Ken didn’t feel well, so we decided truly to have a day of rest. 

Ken in bed

Sara again read from the introduction of Lorna Doone to Ken, resuming at the troublesome paddle steamers. The irony of reading about Lorna Doone and foregoing the day’s walk in Doone Valley was not lost on us. But there’s a story about that . . .

When we were first married, Sara began reading aloud to Ken at night. Lorna Doone was a book we attempted in the first couple of years, and is one of the few books that we hadn’t finished reading together (the other is Dante’s Divine Comedy—we are stuck in purgatory). Sara’s friend Frances had described R. D. Blackmore’s sentences as “Latinate”—long and torturous. The book is probably lovely when it’s read silently, but read aloud, the sentences are so long you are just begging for them to come to an end. Blackmore is also a very rhythmic writer, so that many of the sentences have the same rhythm, which (1) makes it difficult to read expressively, and (2) tends to lull one to sleep.

For the trip this year, we knew we were returning to Exmoor. Last time we visited Exmoor we didn’t go to Doone valley, so we planned for a Lorna Doone day trip this time. In preparation for the trip, we restarted the novel and tried to finish it before we came to England, but only succeeded in getting about halfway. We also rediscovered that the rhythms and sentence structures make the novel rather sleep-inducing--two to five pages are enough to put Ken to sleep every time.

So it somehow seemed fitting that we didn’t end up going on a walk in Doone valley but resting sleepily at home instead, though we will be visiting Oare Church and Malmsmead tomorrow, both of which are locations in the novel.

Instead of walking, we napped. And chatted. And ate. For lunch we ate things we had on hand, including a fresh loaf of bread.

At 2:00 we listened on the radio to one of our favourite shows that we listen to in Canada online, Gardener’s Question Time. The panel was at the Chelsea Flower Show, which is currently going on right now. It was fun to be listening to our show while actually being in England!

In the afternoon it did pour rain, so that the flag at the campground across the street was wet and sad, but the wind later dried things and restored the flag to life. 

The wet flag at the campground

 

The flag flies again

At 3:00 on the radio there was an adaptation of William Makepeace Thackeray’s Vanity Fair (1847?) which was quite funny and very effective, taking a long novel (which Sara had a difficult time getting through) and capturing the humour and tone while greatly shortening the action.

Our view all day was through the half door of the hut, watching the rain come down in varying amounts. 

Our day's view outside the half-door of the shepherd's hut

After more reading, chatting, and dozing, we were ready for Nigel to drive us to the Rockford Inn, where we had a 6:00 dinner reservation. We would then walk home (about 45 min.). We got to the Rockford and read a notice in the window that said there was no food that night because of an electrical problem. We managed to flag Nigel down before he left, and we decided to go to the Staghunter’s Inn again, if they had space. We got the last table. Food was served starting at 6:30, so we ordered a Sunday roast each (Sara got the half-size), with beef, gravy, potato, sweet potato, cabbage, turnips, parsnip, carrots, Yorkshire pudding, and cauliflower cheese. It was good and satisfying, and the people who serve there were again friendly and kind.

We had a shorter walk home than anticipated—about ten minutes, and enjoyed hot chocolate and digestive biscuits while Sara typed up two days’ blogs (since there is no Internet here, or at least, we didn’t ask if there were any), and Ken is reading a book entitled The Worst Journey in the Midlands, which must be humorous given the occasional bursts of laughter Sara is hearing.