Not your average Easter weekend…
I thought my days of family road trips were over.
Turns out I was wrong.
Over the Easter bank holiday weekend, my family and I escaped to the coast for a short break.
And when I say “my family”, I mean Mandy, Riley, and Pia, plus a couple of welcome additions in the form of my son’s girlfriend, our daughter’s friend, and our ever-excitable pooch Elly.
Having warned everyone prior to departure that I was operating a strict one-bag policy, six adults and a dog bundled into the Buzz for the three-hour journey down to Torquay (not Turkey, as I had to remind my daughter on more than one occasion!)
Cue flashbacks to those long drives when the kids were young, and Mandy and I would take turns fielding the relentless chorus of “Are we there yet?” from the back seat. The only difference was that this time it was me asking the question and demanding snacks!
I’d been told the South Devon stretch of coastline that we were visiting is known as the English Riviera, and I can see why. The area definitely has a Mediterranean feel and for a brief moment I wondered whether I’d been transported back to Durban when I saw palm trees in England!
The seafront has a slightly faded charm to it, but I have a real soft spot for those old grand hotels that line the promenade. They’re exactly the type of elaborate establishment where I can imagine enjoying tea and scones on an afternoon.
Whilst our hotel was incredibly busy, there were others that looked like they’d been closed for years; a visible reminder that seaside towns don’t always have the easiest ride these days.
Unfortunately, we ended up witnessing some of those challenges first-hand…
One evening, my daughter spotted a group of youths climbing into one of the derelict hotels and alerted reception, who promptly called the Police.
The following day that same building went up in flames, suspected to be the result of antisocial behaviour. Sadly, I can’t say I was entirely surprised; the few tired sheets of plywood that were boarding up the front of the hotel were never going to keep anyone out.
I think I counted five or six fire engines stationed there for more than 24 hours as crews worked through the night to bring the blaze under control. Roads were closed, traffic diverted, and surrounding buildings – including our hotel – were evacuated as emergency services scrambled to contain the situation.
It really made me stop and think about the true cost of it all. Not just for the building’s owner, but for the ripple effect it has on everything and everyone around it…
The pressure on the fire service. The scale of the police response. The lost income for local businesses. And beyond that, the human cost, with firefighters putting themselves in harm’s way because a couple of delinquents thought it would be a good idea to break in for “a laugh”.
Thankfully no one was injured and, in time, the seafront returned to something resembling normality.
Still none of that seemed to matter to Elly, who was delighted to experience the beach for the first time since we left South Africa. It was great to see her tearing in and out of the sea and rolling around in the sand living her best life.
Meanwhile, I found almost as much entertainment watching families crabbing off the seawall. It made me smile because I know for a fact that if my kids had been twenty years younger it would have been me perched precariously on the edge, guarding an increasingly overcrowded bucket of bacon-hungry crabs whilst desperately trying to ensure no one toppled into the sea!
Instead I was able to enjoy the slower pace of Dartmouth, which quickly became my favourite spot of the whole trip. I’ve spoken before about my general dislike of shopping, but even I found myself happily exploring the abundance of independent, locally owned boutiques and shops that lined the banks of the picturesque River Dart. The area really is beautiful.
So that sums up my Easter weekend. It ended up being slightly more eventful than planned but still great fun.
Catcha next week!