My mum and I were keen to go back to Devon, where we had lived many years ago and where I spent the vast majority of my school days. It was the memory lane trip and, although short, was wonderful and we visited many old places.
Although we only had from Saturday morning to Monday afternoon, we managed to visit Tiverton, Barnstaple, Bideford, Ilfracombe, Braunton and surrounding beaches whilst staying in Woolacombe. The weather forecast was, well, one which we hoped would be wrong and indeed we were lucky. When the wind came, we were safely within the hotel and enjoyed some really rather pleasant weather. I don’t mind wet and windy weather by a beach and the North Devon coast is quite a place to enjoy fairly spectacular weather and scenery.

Our first stop was at my old school, Blundell’s, in Tiverton. It made sense to go to Barnstaple through Tiverton and I have to admit to hoping to stop there as it was not only convenient to stretch our legs but also to set up the Sat Nav... Even I can – usually – find my way along a motorway but I wasn’t entirely certain about the onward journey to Barnstaple. I was surprised to find the relevant road soon after the school and, with the Sat Nav not working, the break might have seen wasted but it was anything but.
Blundell’s has always been extremely good with its former pupils and, having been in touch, I was encouraged to pop in to say hello. On the way back when I had expected us to stop which, as it happened, would not have worked out. Anyway, I gave Mum a guided tour only to be politely stopped by the archivist who understandably wondered who on earth we were walking around after the summer term had ended. He happily offered to show us around and was not only a font of knowledge but was someone with whom I could share many happy memories. I regret to say that I didn’t do well in Barnstaple and made a bit of a mess. We knew exactly where we were heading for but, okay, didn’t look too closely at the map placing our trust in the Sat Nav which we had given up on. Turn round when convenient... Anyway, Mum’s gut instinct turned out to be correct and, after going to Bideford and all set to try the next day, we worked out how to reach St. Michael’s Prep School in Tawstock and subsequently found it comparatively easily thereafter. Memories of Devonian country roads were rekindled also. I was a pupil there from 1972 to 1978 and Mum taught French there. I only once made a mistake calling her Mum instead of Mam and a host of happy memories returned for both of us. Sadly, the school closed four years ago and is now, I believe, being made into a private residence. Mum felt that, with a gate being open, we could go further in having a perfectly reasonable excuse for entering. We were stopped but by a family who lived there who couldn’t have been nicer.
It’s funny how memories are revived after forty odd years. The lanes and hills reminded me clearly of a time, when around ten years old, and friend and I made off in our distinctive grey and pink sporting outfit and headed for glory. We made it to Barnstaple somehow by which time police had been alerted and search parties sent out and were probably found after my friend suggested buying cigarettes from a newsagent to keep us warm. Not that I touched one and, after a trip which seemed to last an eternity to us youngsters but was probably only a few hours, we were soon back at school. Another enterprising soul once hid up a tree directly opposite the school entrance and watched as police and further search parties scurried around looking for him. Raiding the kitchens was fun: the food was good even though the headmaster once sent back the eggs at breakfast. Unwanted food was flicked by some with sleight of hand out of open windows behind the long tables but the ruse was badly interrupted one day when a fried egg failed to make it and was left for all to see. They were happy days.