I think I now know how my Irish flatmate feels when I ask him repeatedly to say, "They always take me lucky charms." For the first time I spent an extended amount of time with actual English people (everyone was English except myself and two other Frenchmen). We were staying in Dartmoor, where they all assured me the beginning of "American Werewolf in London" takes place... and being the only American (and perhaps looking like a werewolf anyway) they admonished me to "stay on the road" and wanted me to walk into the fog (and it was very foggy) in a red coat.
While I was unable to see any supernatural occurrences (neither the "hairy hands" (which is kind of a gay legend... hairy hands not attached to a body attack tourists..do they say "Dr. Rosenpenis" too?) nor the Devil himself (who actually hasn't been seen there since the 17th century..apparently it was a memorable appearance) materialized for me).
On the other hand, the scenery itself was fantastic. I regret not having any pictures, but I got so wet my camera surely would have been ruined. In any event, rural Devon (where Dartmoor is located) is largely small villages and farms built in between and on the moors. Moors are essentially wet hills covered in bogs with granite sticking out of them (the hills, that is). The towns are primarily memorable for the occasional medieval church, a visible reminder of the antiquity of the place (as opposed to American small towns with corrugated steel barns...and churches) and the pubs, which lack all the Victorian garishness of London pubs, but truly look medieval with their exposed beams and uneven walls. The local beer was spectacular.. but I foolishly didn't try the famous Devon cider or the food.
The charm of the towns pales in comparison to the majesty of the moors though. The first thing I noticed about them is that they are bright green, even though it is getting rather cold here. Well, not totally green.... they are also covered in ferns which are now rust colored which in conjunction with the huge granite stones scattered about and jutting through the tops of the hills, as well as the perpetual fog or rain, gives a prehistoric impression.
As you get closer you notice that the grass is all very short, like the green of a golf course. This surely must be due to the vast numbers of sheep, cows, and massive Dartmoor ponies grazing all over. Apparently the moors are common grazing land as well as national park so the farmers whose land borders them can graze their livestock there. And it shows. The ground is covered EVERYWHERE with massive cowpies and pellets of sheep scat. The Keebler elves couldn't distribute it more evenly. Forget about not trying to step in it, just remember to wipe your shoes off when you leave.
From the tops of the moors the sights are even more impressive. Up there you can also see heather, which is sort of a small evergreen shrub (though perhaps more like a weed) with small cup shaped flowers. Looking out over the country side, you can see all the sheep resembling marshmallows or mushrooms dotted all over the green grass, like a scene from Willy Wonka. The farms themselves are divided irregularly by hedgerows rather than symmetrically by chickenwire as in the US. So from up high they resemble a stained glass window or perhaps the scales of a green fish resting in the valley between the hills rather than the flat quilt that can be seen from an airplane flying over the Midwest.
The hedgerows are rather interesting. Not only do they divide farms, from each other, but also from the road. They consist of a high wall of hedges grown on top of an ~ 2 ft earthen mound which sometimes surmounts a stone wall. Thus, roads start to resemble tunnels and riding in a car though them I waited for a giant (hairy?) hand to prod us through the maze. Still, there is little room for driver error and many very scratched cars.
Oh yeah.. climbing... later...
While I was unable to see any supernatural occurrences (neither the "hairy hands" (which is kind of a gay legend... hairy hands not attached to a body attack tourists..do they say "Dr. Rosenpenis" too?) nor the Devil himself (who actually hasn't been seen there since the 17th century..apparently it was a memorable appearance) materialized for me).
On the other hand, the scenery itself was fantastic. I regret not having any pictures, but I got so wet my camera surely would have been ruined. In any event, rural Devon (where Dartmoor is located) is largely small villages and farms built in between and on the moors. Moors are essentially wet hills covered in bogs with granite sticking out of them (the hills, that is). The towns are primarily memorable for the occasional medieval church, a visible reminder of the antiquity of the place (as opposed to American small towns with corrugated steel barns...and churches) and the pubs, which lack all the Victorian garishness of London pubs, but truly look medieval with their exposed beams and uneven walls. The local beer was spectacular.. but I foolishly didn't try the famous Devon cider or the food.
The charm of the towns pales in comparison to the majesty of the moors though. The first thing I noticed about them is that they are bright green, even though it is getting rather cold here. Well, not totally green.... they are also covered in ferns which are now rust colored which in conjunction with the huge granite stones scattered about and jutting through the tops of the hills, as well as the perpetual fog or rain, gives a prehistoric impression.
As you get closer you notice that the grass is all very short, like the green of a golf course. This surely must be due to the vast numbers of sheep, cows, and massive Dartmoor ponies grazing all over. Apparently the moors are common grazing land as well as national park so the farmers whose land borders them can graze their livestock there. And it shows. The ground is covered EVERYWHERE with massive cowpies and pellets of sheep scat. The Keebler elves couldn't distribute it more evenly. Forget about not trying to step in it, just remember to wipe your shoes off when you leave.
From the tops of the moors the sights are even more impressive. Up there you can also see heather, which is sort of a small evergreen shrub (though perhaps more like a weed) with small cup shaped flowers. Looking out over the country side, you can see all the sheep resembling marshmallows or mushrooms dotted all over the green grass, like a scene from Willy Wonka. The farms themselves are divided irregularly by hedgerows rather than symmetrically by chickenwire as in the US. So from up high they resemble a stained glass window or perhaps the scales of a green fish resting in the valley between the hills rather than the flat quilt that can be seen from an airplane flying over the Midwest.
The hedgerows are rather interesting. Not only do they divide farms, from each other, but also from the road. They consist of a high wall of hedges grown on top of an ~ 2 ft earthen mound which sometimes surmounts a stone wall. Thus, roads start to resemble tunnels and riding in a car though them I waited for a giant (hairy?) hand to prod us through the maze. Still, there is little room for driver error and many very scratched cars.
Oh yeah.. climbing... later...
posted by akrites @ 3:39 AM
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