Sunday, June 25, 2017
Exploring the English Riviera—Torquay, Paington,
Brixham and Babbacombe:
With the English sun promising to shine down benevolently
over Devonshire, it made sense for us to haul ourselves off to the nicest part
of the county—what is referred to as the ‘English Riviera’ on the South Devon
coast. This comprises the three seaside towns of Torquay (the best-known of the
three), Paington and Brixham which are dotted around the perfect bay known as
Torbay.
Only since it was Sunday, we had very limited rail
service. This urged us on to the bus station where we hoped to find more
frequent buses to get us to Torquay. We started our day at Melbury House with granola bars crumbled up in flavored yogurt with
coffee and apples before setting off on foot for the bus station—about a
fifteen minute walk away. When we reached there, we discovered that the
earliest Stagecoach bus would leave for Torquay only at 10.05 am. This left us a long while to sit and chat
companionably with fellow passengers who provided us with a lot of suggestions
for places to go to and things to see. It was amazing how friendly the English
were to us and how pleased we were to get into conversation with them as we
whiled time away.
When our Stagecoach Hop 2 bus arrived, the driver advised
us to buy a Day Ticket which would allow us unlimited use of the buses for the
entire day—at 8 pounds this was a steal.
Delighted, we climbed up to the top deck and then gave ourselves up to
the sheer delight of taking in charming little villages that time forgot, sleepy
villagers in sleepier hamlets enjoying a Sunday’s lie-in, pastures filled with
farm animals, tea rooms advertising Devonshire cream teas and highways whose
hedgerows were filled with blackberry bushes thick with pink blossom and
promises of juicy fruit to come. Even had we no particular destination in mind,
just these bus drives would have made our travel to and in Devon seem fully
worthwhile. We trundled lazily along until we arrived at the town of Teignmouth
(pronounced Tinemuth), where a fellow-traveler called Sally advised us to
alight and take a connecting bus which would arrive earlier at Torquay. It
seemed like a good plan—so we took her advice. At Teignmouth, we bought
ourselves ice-cream from Jane’s
Ice-Creams (salted caramel and chocolate) that were divine and, five
minutes later, were in another bus that took us off to Torquay.
Torquay, Gem of the English Riviera:
Torquay is known for two famous residents: the real-life
Dame Agatha Christie who holidayed every summer in its environs and the
fictional Basil Fawlty of Fawlty Towers
fame played by the inimitable John Cleese. Torquay is also known for its chi-chi
summer residents who bring a seasonable whiff of urbanity to this lovely
sea-side resort with its ultra-broad beach, its cliff-perched manors, its
restaurants and souvenir stores. It might be a far cry from Nice or Monte
Carlo, but Torquay does have its own share of sophisticated charm that I found
completely enchanting.
We began by exploring its lovely maze of narrow streets
that were absolutely filled with elderly visitors. In fact, in much of Devon,
we saw large groups of older travelers—obviously ‘pensioners’, they are
enjoying the thrills of their seaside towns before the schools close for the
summer and sea resorts become mobbed by families who will fill every niche and
crevice of Dorset, Devon and Cornwall with colorful beach gear (as I had seen in
Dorset last year). Using our map, we set off for lunch and using a
recommendation from Lonely Planet, we
arrived at Pier Pont, a sea-front
eatery where we ordered a quinoa salad with beetroot, oranges, rocket (arugula)
and goat cheese as well as a Baked Potato with British beef brisket. We also
enjoyed a bottle of beer that we shared. Our lunch was absolutely scrumptious
although it was spoiled for Shahnaz by the presence of hovering seagulls who
were horribly vicious and greedy and who swooped down on leftovers on diners’ plates.
Our vantage point on one of the outside tables provided us with sweeping views
of the beach all the way to the little colorful beach huts that are such a
regular feature of the British beach resort. We clicked a few pictures and then
walked along the waterfront to the nearest bus stop to get on to a bus that
would take us to Brixham as we had received a suggestion to go there next.
On the Bus to Brixham:
The bus ride to Brixham saw Shahnaz soundly asleep as I
took in the splendor of the Devonshire coastline. The sea was incredibly clear
and as the waves melted on to the shore their colors were reminiscent of
Hawai’i with streaks of aquamarine, jade, and even mauve. The jagged coastline
was filled with interesting natural features such as terracotta red rock
formations that created gateways in the sea (similar to Durdle Door in Dorset).
Chic mansions hugged the coast which is clearly the playground of the wealthy.
Everywhere we went on the Riviera, we saw the flotsam and
jetsam of the British beach holiday: plastic spades and pails, blow up toys,
eateries featuring fish and chips, ice-cream kiosks, stalls selling cotton
candy and the inevitable cream tea focusing on scones.
When we arrived, about an hour later, at Brixham, we
found that we had to climb a hill to get to the harbor. The next bus back in the direction of
Paington and Torquay was about an hour later—this left us an hour to explore
the utterly gorgeous harbor town that seemed to be built in tiers. Each building
was painted in a pretty pastel shade—blue, pink, lemon. They seemed to sink
gradually down to the sea as we climbed the crest of the hill past souvenir
stores.
When we arrived at the harbor, we found a huge replica of
The Golden Hind, the ship in which Sir
Francis Drake sailed around the world in the late 1500s. Indeed, the harbor
itself was simply buzzing with Sunday evening crowds—people of every age from
octogenarians to infants in prams were out and about enjoying the benign summer
sun. We drank it all in, quite fascinated by the beauty of the landscape and
the energy of the visitors. In another week or two, these places will be
overwhelmed by the crush of humanity…but for the moment, they are just
perfectly stocked with happy people who are far from harassed.
At this point, I noticed The Rockfish Grill, a well-reputed chain of restaurants run by
well-reputed chef Mitch Tonks whose fish and chips have been declared ‘Best in
the UK’ for the Year 2017. Naturally, we
could not leave Devon without partaking of his offerings. But I was also aware
that his flagship eatery is in Dartmouth—which we’d be visiting on our last day.
I, therefore, told Shahnaz to hold out on tucking into this seaside treat until
we got there (much to her disappointment as she said later that she could have
eaten fish and chips at least five times on this trip).
I
also noticed that the Brixham branch of the chain was offering Salcombe Devon
crab cocktail—a delicacy that is a must-try in these parts and one that is
advertised everywhere. I suggested we get that instead. Shahnaz was game and
next thing we knew, we were at the takeaway counter at The Rockfish Grill being presented with little cups filled with
finely cut lettuce and cucumber in a light thousand island dressing with mounds
of dressed crab meat clustered on the top.
We clutched our treats close to us as we hurried off to the bus stop to
catch our bus. While on the bus, we thoroughly enjoyed our crab cocktails that
were sweet and juicy and incredibly flavorful.
How happy we were that we had ticked off one more gastronomic treat that
Devon could offer as we sampled its specialties. Next stop? Babbacombe, where
at the Angel Tea Room (one of the
best-known in the area), we would enjoy a Devonshire Cream Tea!!! I simply
could not wait.
Enjoying a Devonshire Cream Tea at Babbacombe:
Sometimes it pays to be greedy! Had I not insisted we get
to the Angel Tea Room for a cream
tea, Shahnaz and I would never have laid eyes on the gorgeous Devonshire
coastline at Babbacombe which is truly breathtaking. As it turned out, we got a
bus in Torquay that took us to Babbacombe where we were let off on the high
street and directed to the road that would take us to The Downs where the famed
tea room is located. So, getting there was no problem at all. It was the return
to Exeter that would prove far more problematic as the evening wore on and
Sunday bus services became skeletal.
But, for the moment, we were focused on Tea! With scones!
And lashings of Devonshire clotted cream! And strawberry jam! And a cake or two
thrown in for good measure! So after we crossed the high street and took the
side street to get to The Downs, which are high cliffs that offer astounding
views of the coast, we were thrilled to find ourselves right outside the Angel Tea Room! At this point, we were
torn between my need to tuck immediately into one of the creamy treats and
Shahnaz’s desire to sit on one of the benches and gaze out at the glory of the
coast line from a cliff-top garden filled with wild flowers. I postponed the
pleasure of my tea and settled down to enjoy the stunning scenery with her. We
paused to take pictures and to marvel at the fact that had we not decided to
have a cream tea in one of the places most touted on the internet, we would
have missed the grand spectacle on this portion of the Devonshire coast.
About fifteen minutes later, we were seated in the pretty
flower-filled courtyard of the eatery and being presented with menus that were
basically unnecessary as I knew exactly what we were going to eat—scones, of
course, with the works! I also ordered a slice of fruit cake—because that was
all they really had left. The other cakes had gone and the place was taking
last orders in twenty minutes—we had just arrived on time. Any later and we’d
have been turned away. It did not bear thinking about! And, of course, we had
tea. Decaff Roiboos for me and Shahnaz as we shared a pot. Service was wonderful, the scones with cream
and jam were luxuriantly sinful but it was the view that stole the show as we
sat facing the softly setting sun of a perfect day as it disappeared over the
horizon.
Getting Back to Exeter:
Getting back to Exeter proved to be far more challenging
than we had imagined as all manner of life seems to come to a standstill on a
Sunday evening after 5.00 pm. Still,
after some harried moments, we found a bus that took us safely back to Exeter
after a ride that took a little over an hour.
It had been an amazing introduction to the English
Riviera and we could see why crowds flock there for a little bit of R&R.
Until tomorrow, cheerio.
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