16/03/2026Phil’s Travels – Dawlish, England (03.26)
Phil’s Travels – Dawlish, England (03.26)
It was Mothering Weekend and we had decided at very short notice to visit one in Devon. Paddington early afternoon was full of the usual hubbub and nervy passengers racing to their trains thanks to the last-minute platform announcements. Fortunately, we were standing by a pillar while we waited for our delayed train and well out of harms way.
Our departure was delayed some 30 minutes and we boarded half-a-train (only five carriages, compared to the usual 8-10). At least the seat reservation computer was working and we secured our booked seats with the greatest of gratitude as the half-train was packed with a full train’s worth of passengers. People were standing on every available bit of floor, in the end bits and along the aisles. Reason for delay – points issues in the West Country, which did not bode well for our journey west.
As it was, despite being Friday the 13th, we arrived in Dawlish only 15 minutes late and met up with my parents by the chippy. The centre of Dawlish had been a building site for nearly a year already and on this visit the poor town’s very heart had been truly ripped out. Road closures, dug up parkland, silted over Dawlish Water and the Crazy Golf now a Crazy Builder’s Yard, full of big boys’ toys. In this era of armed conflict, Dawlish could easily have been a suitable film set for a current affairs movie.
Saturday, we dressed for winter, but the morning turned out fabulous. Blue skies as far as the eye could see and strong sunshine to warm our cockles, especially under the glasshouse that was the #2 bus shelter. As it was, we stripped off most of our attire and carried it about town all day in a highly fashionable Waitrose bag. The #2 took us all the way into Exeter city centre and we strolled to Harry’s for lunch. Lovely food, good wine, great service, played my game with vigour and a beautiful history filled venue. Highly recommended and well above the usual Ivy or Côte alternatives.
After a pre-Mother’s Day lunch to celebrate Mother’s Day, we wandered about Exeter for a bit and I bought a Giant Traditional pasty for dinner. The #2 return was on a double-decker and we were afforded glorious views of rural Devon from the upper deck not otherwise seen from a car or lesser vehicle.
My Giant Traditional was consumed with great lip-smacking gusto and all the better for an accompanying sip or three of a handsomely mellow St Emillion, after which we digested whilst watching perhaps the best 6 Nations rugby match in recent history – and all the better for une victoire Francaise!
The wintry weather returned for the actual Mothering Sunday, windy, wet and cold, no sun and all cloud. Downtown Dawlish was very quiet when we went for the papers and a coffee, aside from the café itself, which was overflowing. Nice little earner I hope for the owner, in a Devon town that was otherwise struggling to survive in these high cost of living days and with its centre all red gashes of red Devon soil. Come to think of it, Dawlish central could also have been a backdrop for the next Wolverine movie.
Our early afternoon train from Dawlish left on time and we were in good time for the changeover at Exeter. The Paddington train, however, developed some issues and we were delayed getting into London by about 30 minutes. Reason for delay – our engine’s electric motor did not work and was running on diesel instead, which meant it ran more slowly than normal and on approach into London was caught up in the slow lanes. Still, we made it home just in time to see Liverpool lose, again. After a Chinese dinner to celebrate our own Mother’s Day, I concluded the Mothering Weekend with another sporting disappointment, the Chinese GP. Overall, a poor weekend of sport for your humble blogger.
On the bright side though – the mothers seemed to have a good time. We had travelled west in comfort, there and back. And the good people of Paddington deserve a special mention. When I booked our tickets, I had left my credit card in the machine in the ticket office. I only realised my gaff some 30 minutes later, across town in Clerkenwell, and called my wonderful wife to go back and retrieve it. Expecting to have to cancel my card (again), I was over the moon when my wonderful wife called some 10 minutes later to say she had successfully retrieved it. It had sat in the machine for over 40 minutes and no one noticed and no one took it. Thank you, the good people of Paddington. Life is full of such bright spots. Enjoy them.
Media Centre