Under our own steam

In order to complete the available transport options in London we caught a Black Cab to our hire car depot. We had to wave on other colours but we eventually found the one we wanted. These cabs are great; roomy, full of character and great charm in the drivers. Melbourne could learn from this. As we’d called ahead they guy was there early for us and gave us fabulous service (“stuff the others – you called ahead”). Consequently we had the option of a car with GPS which we promptly took up and as it turned out it was brand new (apart from the 8 miles on the clock). So swimming in the smell of new car we easily negotiated our way out of London and Headed west along the M4.
Due to the advice through our GPS lady (we call her Beatrice – HRH Beatrice the 3rd) we avoided the road delays on the M5 and performed a detour through Bristol and the country side south. Due to a combination of heavy rain and trees covering road signs we made a few strange detours but generally managed to stay on track. Food stops and wind breaks slowed us down a bit so the whole journey took about 6 hours, but it was a lot of fun and to be masters of our own destiny was a lovely change. Pity for the drivers behind us wondering what was going on with our signalling (the controls are reversed compared with home) – every time it rained the indicators went on instead of the wipers.
And so we headed into “Bonnet Drama” territory. Quaint towns, green paddocks and quirky characters (not our hosts). Arriving in Porlock we were warmly greeted by Polly and Paul and given royalty treatment. Made us wonder why we bothered with the crummy hostel in London....
We headed up to the fair they put on for us (making us feel a tad guilty for arriving late), however the towns folks seemed to be enjoying themselves anyway. It was fascinating to see the exhibition of dancing by the Morrismen. These guys use a traditional combination of sticks, handkerchiefs, gun noises (well O.K. - they yell “bang” loudly) and excellent rendition of moves learnt from the Ministry of Silly Walks.
Afterwards we all (Carol and Ian included) strolled to the Top Ship (one of 3 pubs in town) for a couple of quiet pints, dodging the occasional light rain (locals with brollies, visitors without) which was fabulous being surrounded by the towering hills of the Exmouth Moors, the ageless thatched roofs, the fresh Atlantic air and the view across to the Bristol Channel.
We then strolled back down through the perfect pristine streets of the town back home to a wonderful dinner and good company and good music (once they turned Phil off).