Southwest Coast Path: Shaldon to Maidencombe

Well not surprisingly, the first (and perhaps only) people crazy enough to venture the 5 hour drive to Exeter from the North were the parents. And so it was that on a fine (almost freakishly warm) spring weekend, we ventured out to show off Devon's finest spots. What better way to appreciate the County than a gusty huff puff coastal walk.

We started out at Shaldon on the River Teign - a quaint little fishing village steeped in maritime history. I'd love to tell you that the eery and mysterious smuggling tunnel which routes from the Ness Pub to the stunning Ness Cove had a sordid contraband past. But alas, we are in the South, and true to form it was gifted to a rich family as a hunting retreat and summer residence...of course, they couldn't be walking too far to the beach so the passage was carved out as a convenient route to a seaside dip from their front door.

Heading out positively on the 3 mile stroll from Shaldon to the village of Maidencombe, a well earned pint was already in the back of our minds. But as we are slowly discovering, the coast path here is not always kind. Just as nature gave so generously with it's incredible sea views, it also took (in the form of air from our lungs) with its roly poly hills. Highs and Lows took on a whole new meaning as even Poppy the dog struggled to catch a breath. Past fields and woods, grassy peaks and deep hidden coves, we breathed it all in and sweat it all out. Finally stopping to rest with a fat slice of home made treacle cake, we were rewarded with warm rays and cool views.

Descending into Maidencombe with tummies grumbling, thoughts came once again to that promised pint. If you had asked any one of us about our expectations on arrival, i'm sure none would have even come close to the little gem of a pub
that we found. A picture perfect 'Thatched Tavern' with a cottage garden bathed in sunshine and a well to wish our supper to appear - fantastic crab sandwiches and great local ales. All polished off with a mad dash to the bus back...well, we do like to keep the oldies on their toes!

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Exeter to Exmouth on the Exe Estuary Trail

Well hello again. I've finally got the blog up and running from our new home in Exeter. We have lucked out in our little casa de sol (i'll admit that we did have a rainy start!), and are nestled in amongst the Quayside community - a hive of activity with canoeists, funrunners, dog walkers, jogging grannies and rollerbladers. I'd like to inform that we've thrown ourselves with gusto into this get up and go lifestyle...indeed we have donned our trainers with every intention of sweating it out, only to be scuppered by the wafting smell of fresh scones two doors down at The Welcome Cafe. Note to self: brush up on the science of self control.

A few weeks back (aforementioned cafe was closed thank goodness), I finally gave in to the energastics and set out for the seaside on my t(rusty) bicycle. A cool brisk 10 miles down a pristine off road cycle path starting at our front door lies Exmouth - a seaside town with fudge ice cream galore and a long sandy beach in which to dig your toes.

The trail (designed by my Company none other. Unashamed plug.) starts from the Quay in Exeter, and follows the west bank of the river all the way to Topsham Lock Cottage, at which point I was able to catch the little ferry boat across the water (weekends in the winter, and every day except Monday from April to September) to the east bank at Topsham. Being greeted on the other side by a good old fashioned boozer, I sat myself down overlooking the estuary for a motivational ale at The Ship Inn.

From Topsham, the trail continued (following the blue signs for NCN2) through the RSPB Goosemoor nature reserve where I had a quick peep out through the boards at the Curlews and Avocets going about their birdy business. Passing through Exton, I couldn't help but be tempted by another swift half at The Puffing Billy Pub (Again, my lack of willpower was getting the better of me) before continuing on alongside the railway and the estuary shoreline.

Another couple of miles along, and the trail dipped into the Lympstone. Here, I was faced with another irresistible local boozer (The Swan) with its outdoor tables basking in the sun, singing to me "go on, take a load off, cool down with Doom Bar". I promptly covered my eyes, and sailed blindly (and triumphantly) past on to the last leg of my journey.

The section of the trail between Lympstone and Exmouth lends some of the best estuary views as the river widens out into the sea. A few comtemplatory photos under my belt, I sailed on... The beach was now tantalisingly close...only a few peddle bursts more and I would be dipping my feet into the cool (correction: ice cold) salty water. Almost within view.... and my eye was drawn away from the tempting target. FRESH CRAB. my tummy started to rumble. SPANISH DELI. And the self control flew out of the window once again...

Uncomfortably full with a strange crab manchego sandwich combo, I opted for the easy route home, and hopped on the convenient train back to Exeter. A great day out, but one for the sunshine and those with a strong willpower!

Ciao Chile!

Well it´s 6am in the morning here and what better time to post our send off. With our newfound freedom we bussed it down south to the Chilean Lake District. Turns out it´s incredibly similar to our good old northern Lakes, but with a few volcanoes peppered here and there, and on a grander scale. Consequently, we were welcomed by a LOT of rain and felt like little ducks to water.

Turns out that in this part of Chile (unlike the north where the kids are excused from school with light drizzle in case they catch a cold!) people toddle on as usual. We however mostly shirked away from our British responsibilities and instead hauled up the week in the most fancy ´hostel´ I have ever seen.

Between rainclouds, we did get a few gems of sunshine and ventured out for a calm lakeside reflection, a bottom burning 68km bike ride, a walk down volcano lava channels, a monkey puzzle snow trail, and a well earned bathe in the hot springs. The German influence here is huge; the attitude (let´s get on with it then!), wooden chalets and yummy jams and cakes.

And so it´s fetching that our time in Chile and our blog ends with woolly hats and scarves...A truly beautiful country that will be tough to beat in the diversity, beauty and kindness of it´s people. But the sun is calling us and we can´t resist any longer...off to Brazil to find a beach. If you´re interested in where we we are, you can follow our trail here http://www.travellerspoint.com/member_map.cfm#/tripid/484567


See you back in the UK in September! Ciao ciao x

September 11th. A date to remember...

We are on the road again after a long emotional goodbye with our families and friends in Ovalle. Over the past 5 months, we have experienced incredible kindness from all of the Chilenos we have met. "Somos de Piel" they say (literally, we are of skin), and certainly Chile is a nation united in its warmth and love for all.

But it has not always been this way. Today, we took a trip to the newly opened Museum of Human Rights in Santiago. Initially planning a brief stop in, we stayed for hours. I wanted to share some of our experience, given that it is largely unspoken about in Chilean Society today, and though our parent's generation may know well the recent history of Chile, our generation were not yet born or just children when it happened.

It begins with an issue that is still very apparent in Chilean society today - the inequality of wealth. In 1970, socialist Salvador Allende was elected to power by a small margin. He began to slowly redistribute income, but it wasn't fast enough for some, and strikes and uprisings made the country very unstable.

Opposition to Allende's Government eventually assumed control of the police and military, and famously took power on September 11th 1973 in a bid to regain order. They bombed the Government headquarters in Santiago with Allende standing proud inside, and his supporters powerless to help. Before shooting himself dead, he gave an incredibly calm and inspired final speech which I urge all to read here. http://www.marxists.org/archive/allende/1973/september/11.htm

What took place next makes for difficult reading. The new Junta Government with General Pinochet at its helm maintained their power with fear and force. Thousands of people who supported or sympathised with Allende were tortured, executed, exiled or simply disappeared. TV and media was controlled, curfews inflicted and the streets patrolled by heavy military presence. The country was divided. Although we will never know the true figures, over half the population of Chile allegedly supported Pinochet, and so it was that he remained in power for 16 long years.

In 1989, the "seeds planted in the good consience of the Chilean people" that Allende alluded to in his final speech began to flower, and the people shouted a resounding NO to the dictatorship. Following years of protests in the 80's and re-organisation of the opposition, a vote was held which put an end to the Pinochet regime. Since this, Chile has re-united, and although far from perfect, it has grown in strength as a nation.

To this day, families of those who went missing during the dictatorship have still not received answers, and Pinochet was never held to account for the crimes against human rights committed under his regime....Maggie Thatcher even let him hang out in London for a while to escape the backlash.

I have tried to write this history with an unbiased view. During our time in Ovalle we have met many different people, from Pinochet supporters to those detained by his regime, rich and poor, young and old. And many not so bothered about voting I should add.
All were "de piel" and united in hoping for a peaceful future for Chile. And yes, we should all look firmly forward. But I am also pleased and relieved to see that Chile is no longer forgetting its past and instead beginning to show the respect and remembrance that each of those who suffered deserve.

So what now then? Well, the upcoming elections will see Michelle Bachelat (the daughter of a loyal socialist who died at the hands of Pinochet's regime) and Evelyn Matthei (the daughter of the leader of the Military school where Bachelat was tortured to death) battle it out for President. You can read about it here if you're interested. http://www.sacbee.com/2013/07/27/5601436/women-with-bitter-past-run-for.html

Uh oh, I hear you think. History repeating itself? Well, only time will tell I suppose....

Toodle Pip!

The end of term has finally arrived. Whilst the kids ran screaming for joy at the prospect of 2 weeks winter vacation, we were left to reflect in our empty classrooms and hope that the kids find a use for our crazy ramblings. Although we have been stripped of our prestige Profe titles, Jonny's head grew even larger when his students marched him out a Chilean flag signed by all, and literally crowned him the King of Santa Maria.

I was privy to a touching farewell ceremony at Tamelcura where my host brother raised the Chilean flag to the rest of the kids proudly singing with hand on heart to the national anthem. A couple of my student performed an impressive Cueca dance, my teachers and students gave a final farewell speech, and I think a tiny tear may have formed in my eye. There was an audible chuckle when I announced that I actually do speak Spanish, followed by an "oh crap" as they remembered all the naughty words spoken in my presence.

As a thank you, the Ministry of Education treated us to a steak (imagine my joy!) and gave us a personalised T-shirt and water bottle because in their words "you extranjeros are very active." I love it, but there is something slightly odd about showing off your students on your chest whilst grinding to Zumba. I've had a great experience teaching here in Chile, but if there's one thing I've learned, it's that kids are a tough crowd. They aren't the type to give any audible praise...you are lucky to get full concentration for 45 minutes, but they express their gratitude in different ways and it's the smallest of things that let you know you're making a difference.

Under the Bridge

I have decided that the blog seems to be lacking on an important part of our life here in Chile...our host families. For the last four months, we have felt very pivileged to be welcomed into our new homes with open arms, and over time have come to feel a part of our families. I would be lying if I said it has been a breeze...we have regressed back to teenage years, being sent off to school with our packed lunch, our parents needing to know where we are at all times, dodging off to our rooms when our sibling´s getting a bollocking, and hiding our alcohol stash in the wardrobe. But, for all this it has been worth it to have such a fantastic experience of real life in Chile.







Our families here are very different, mine being a busy and fairly unstructured bunch, and Jonny´s keeping an impeccably clean and ordered household. However, the one thing they both have in common is that you are certainly never short of a meal. On weekends, the feeding seems to up a few notches, and despite Jonny´s abuelita claiming he´s "put 5kg on his round fat face", this weekend was no different. We have come on tough times in my family over the past few weeks with the sudden passing away of our "tata" (Dad/Grandad), and so we all made a family trip to the cementary on Saturday to give flowers and wish him well. This was quite a moving experience, and a reminder to all of us there to our lives with vivacity.


So with this in mind, and needing a bit of fresh positive air we headed for the countryside, off the road, under the bridge, round the trees and into a secret and tranquil little wood, known only to my family. Here we whiled away the afternoon BBQing meat (and veggieburgers) on the asado, playing uno, kicking around the football, making churrascas, snoozing in the sun and chuckling over mate. The Chileno´s value family above all else and this afternoon we felt very lucky to have been part of it.

 

Mountainous Monte Patria

Our time here in Ovalle is nearing a close, and although we have been pretty thrifty here, I prefer now to blindfold myself before logging on to my online banking. In anticipation of more frivolous times to come, we have taken to buying £2 bottles of wine and refusing to travel anywhere more than a £1.50 bus journey away. And so it was that we ended up spending this Saturday in Monte Patria, a local mountain town near the Cordillera.

Monte Patria is most famous for its resident flock of noisy parrots, Given that we came for the tranquility, we decided to head as far away from them as possible. I´m not sure maps of this place exist, and certainly the regular Chilean doesn´t hike further than the local bakery so we were left to hatch out our route (Jonny choosing the highest hill he could see), and after watching some of the local football (the spectators avidly spectating us!), we set off into the unknown.

Leaving civilisation far behind, we picked our way through private Government land towards our chosen summit. Lucky for us, our only contact was with a group of wild horses and a crazy abuelita who was eager to let us know how loco we were in our efforts. She waved us off with a knowing look...."I´ll see you later on your way home" she told us confidently. And indeed she did, when we passed again an hour later, a failed summit under our belt and big sweaty circles under our arms. However, all was not in vain because before admitting defeat, we got a glimpse of some incredible views which I´m positive very few people (besides old abuelita) have seen. Finally arriving back in Monte Patria after our 5 hour jaunt, we rewarded ourselves with a huge completo and a good old chinwag with a 90 year old potty potter from Uruguay and his 9 month old neighbour.