Monday, January 16, 2012

Torquay, Devon, England

After leaving Watership Down, I drove for about 6 hours to my next destination: Torquay (tor-kee). All I really knew about it is that it's where Fawlty Towers was supposed to be set and Agatha Christie had lived there (yes I like Agatha Christie and yes I know this ages me by about 50 years).

For me, it was mostly a breaking point to my destination in Cornwall. But it was a pretty little seaside town. They have been trying to market the area as the English Riveria for decades now. Not sure if they've succeeded since I've never been to the French Riveria but I suspect that they're not since the first I had heard of this moniker was when I did my Internet research (seriously wtf did people do before the Internet?)!

Overall, it was a cute town but I think much better explored with friends. I walked around by myself for a long time (it was Sunday so a lot was closed or had limited hours). One thing I learned this trip is that there is very little all day food places (except fast food). Most pubs/restaurants close between 2 and 5 for food. Which I guess I should have known since I did a work abroad trip to London when I was 19 and worked in a bar that totally closed during those hours but I thought it was just a peculiarity of that bar.

I was repeatedly offered Sunday roast which is basically beef swimming in fat and gravy, mashed potatoes, veg (ugh what an ugly word) and who knows what other awfulness. I definitely reconfirmed my position that British people can't cook. I ate more cheese and tomato (tomaaato) sandwiches in that week than in my whole life and only about 2 were decent. One actually had mayo on it and another had oil (not sure of what variety) dripping out the end of it. Shudder.

I'm also not so much into the beach. I love looking at it but I can't be assed to spend the whole day just laying out (hello wrinkles, crows feet and cancer) or actually swimming (rule #1 don't swim in anything you can't see the bottom of). So maybe Torquay is not so much for me.

But the owner of the B and B I stayed at was from London and he said after moving to Torquay, he would never go back to London. This was said while at the same time mocking the local radio station which for some reason kept playing El Debarge songs during the mornign drive time hour. What decade do they think it is down in Devon? lol.

Although it was weird because somehow Leo had gotten one of El Debarge's songs stuck in his head a week or so before my trip. Coincidence? I think not.

I stayed at the Cleveland Hotel which was clean and the couple who owned it was very nice (in fact they accidentally charged my 5 pounds too much and the owner came running out to catch me before I drove off). A nice B and B but it was about a 15 minute walk to the water. There are plenty of hotels closer, but I'm not sure how much they charge and most of them seemed pretty janky.

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