End of Little Chef

Up early, packed, cleaned up and on the road by 9:15. I was tempted to leave a note in the visitors book saying how early man left the caves to live in WOODEN houses for a reason which was now quite obvious to me but instead I mentioned the small toaster, the not-power shower and thanks for the fire. The day was nice and sunny so, of course, the cottage looked lovely.

We were going to go via St Austell but I happened to hear on BBC Cornwall that the A34 was a mess of accidents and road works so we headed up to the A30 and kept going till we reached the motorway then turned off onto the A34 there, deciding to take the (nearly) coast road for a change.

We stopped just beyond Axminster to have a hearty breakfast in Little Chef. Oddly, since returning home, I’ve heard that the Little Chef people have called in Hester Blumenthal (the famous Michelin star chef) to sort out their menu as their trade is dropping off. Damn, just as we’ve returned to the pleasures of Little Chef, which, for so long had been sadly lacking, they want to change it…again! Damn those shareholders and their wily ways. If only I’d known, I would have taken greater pleasure in what may have been my last LC all day breakfast.

Back on the road and we sped by Maiden Castle, Mirinda not convinced that we should go and visit while we were within cooee, and on to the New Forest. It was time for the usual cup of tea so we left the main road for the wilds of Poulner.

The intersection that is Poulner

Poulner appears to be an intersection. On one side is a Baptist chapel which, in the usual way of denominations not Anglican, was locked up tight. Next door was what appeared to be a retirement home with an open gate, directly into the graveyard. I’m sure this was accident rather than design. On the church sign they advertise ‘Ladies Bible Study’. Now I’m really curious to know what kind of women’s secret business goes on during them.

After a revitalising cup of Gary’s Thermos Brew, we once more joined the main road, driving through the pony strewn forest, onto the M3 then, finally, off to Farnham. We made it home all safe and sound with some hours of daylight remaining.

Cornwall was cold, the bread was small (to fit the toasters, I guess) and the beer was fantastic. We had a lovely time and Mirinda forgot all about work by the fourth day, her guitar practice helped a lot.

The photos are here.

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