Today I have mostly been picking t'youngest up from Plymouth and bringing her back to Wolverhampton, from where I write this missive.
It was too far to go there and back in a day however, and though she wanted to show me round some of her new Plymouth haunts, a Ten Tor preparatory expedition yesterday left in need of a small lie-in, leaving me free to have a quick bike ride this morning. I'd chosen to stay in Yelverton, roughly half way between Plymouth and Tavistock, as that meant I could drive north-south across Dartmoor on the way there, which was great - views, ponies, Royston Vasey villages - and there was a choice of short routes for said ride.
It's not a part of the world that's familiar to me, and I ended up doing a loop based on Drake's Trail, essentially a circuit of Durrator Reservoir. And very nice it was too. But - and here's the news - it was on the mountain bike. I enjoyed it; it was nice, modern. That's the bombshell. There is no other news. My field is still lying fallow, though I am thinking about the crops I want to grow in it. Rubbish metaphor, time to end.
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