Oh, I do love to be beside the seaside

The red cliffs of Sidmouth

A couple of weeks ago we were invited by friends to stay the night in Sidmouth, where they were housesitting. So we drove the five hours down into Devon on a sparkling summer day.

Sidmouth is on the English Channel, with the nearest large town being Exeter. It's the gateway to The Jurassic Coast, a World Heritage Area famous for its Triassic, Jurassic and Creteaceous cliffs. 

Sadly, those cliffs are eroding at a fairly rapid rate and there is real concern for their future, although it's been happening for a long time. I heard a geologist talking about 'the white cliffs of Dover'. He commented that if they hadn't been continually eroding over hundreds of years, they wouldn't be white cliffs at all - they'd be a green slope. So really the erosion is nothing new.

It's all happening on the seashore at Sidmouth

Normally a sleepy seaside town with a, shall we say, 'mature' population, in summer the numbers swell with a large influx of holiday makers.

There are lots of lovely regency buildings and very cute thatched cottages that look like gingerbread houses.

Jacob's Ladder, leading up to Connaught Gardens

The view from the top

Connaught Gardens, perched on the cliffs above the sea

Pubs and ice-cream parlours are in ready supply in Sidmouth. No gastropubs here; they're all fairly traditional establishments which fits with the permanent population of retirees and the holiday crowds, mostly families.

The house where we were staying is in a great spot. It's perched on the edge of the River Sid - more like a canal, really, that leads down to the sea. To reach the house itself the instructions are quite amusing:

'...You will come to a small footbridge that crosses the ford, and a Give Way sign for vehicles. Do not drive through the ford! 

Instead keep driving straight ahead along the very narrow road that follows the river. You will think you are driving through people's private gardens; don't worry - you are not.

When you come to the end of the road with a red cliff in front of you, you are at the house.' 

If you wish to drive into the town itself from this particular part of Sidmouth, you must drive through the canal. Yes, that's right; not over it, around it or even under it - actually through it.

I'm not sure why they've never come up with an alternative to this. Perhaps the expense of building a bridge is not justified, given the small population for nine months of the year. Perhaps there isn't space for a proper bridge. Perhaps, quite rightly, it's been decided that this is a novelty factor for the town. I'm kind of glad. It's one of those quirky things that distinguish Sidmouth from other coastal towns. 

The canal does have a safety gate that is activated by the water level - when it gets to a certain depth the gate closes so that cars can't enter.

After a hot, sunny day exploring Sidmouth we had plans to visit Beer the next day - a nearby small seaside village that takes its name not from the beverage but from the old English word for grove/wood ('bearu'). A few gale force winds and horizontal rain weren't going to put us off. 

The main street of Beer leads straight down to the sea

Talk about cute buildings. Thatch abounds, as do cosy looking pubs and hotels. We enjoyed a delicious cream tea at one of the local establishments, though once again we lamented the prevalence of tea-bags rather than proper leaf-tea. *sigh*

We braved the howling winds to frolic on the seashore for a while. I do love the sound those millions of smooth pebbles make underfoot.

By the time we left the beach our glasses were shrouded in gooey salt spray and Collette and I could have passed for stunt doubles in the original Bridget Jones' Diary (I refer of course to the scene where Bridget loses her head scarf in Daniel's convertible, and arrives at the hotel with hair resembling fairy-floss). After several minutes we quite gave up attempts to smooth and tame.

Some of those white cliffs, dotted with wildflowers and coastal shrubs

Deckchairs for hire on the pebbly beach at Beer.
Not a huge demand for them on this particular day.

Rod getting blown away, trying to take a photo of Kevin

Jolly Roger

Cute little boats, all in a row

As we left Beer for the long drive home the fog set in, making for an atmospheric landscape.

We had plenty of time to admire the winding, narrow streets of Lyme Regis as we snaked our way through the town. A foolish coach driver had made the bold decision to attempt the route - as a consequence we were stuck in a traffic jam that lasted some time.

The stoic English, as always, seemed resigned to their fate whilst I progressed from incredulity to frustration to outright pissed-off-ness, before eventually moving on to resignation. I think I must be developing at least a small level of British-ness.

In ideal conditions the journey between Epsom and Sidmouth would take about 3.5 hours. It being the start of the school holidays, however, we endured a trip of 5.5 hours each way. A bit far to go for one night but it was nice to get out of London - I am so, SO over it, despite the fact that we recently made the most of being in the metropolis by going for dinner and the theatre after work. 

A good friend had recommended The Importance of Being Earnest at The Vaudeville Theatre, literally five minutes' walk from my office. I am a huge Oscar Wilde fan and can recite lines from this play at will. A big drawcard was the fact that David Suchet was in the role of Lady Bracknell, and he was extremely good, but I'll agree with friend Roy that it was the actress playing Cecily (Imogen Doel) who stole the show. 

David Suchet as Lady Bracknell
Photo: importanceofearnest.com 

We'd long been meaning to get down to the Jurassic Coast so it was good to have a small glimpse of the area and we do hope to return - there is a lot to explore. But we will definitely avoid the peak season. I've always preferred the coast in winter, anyway.

Until next time,
- Maree  xo