Our second day in Devon graced us with a pocket of free time and the promise of no rain for a few hours (impressive when the dregs of a hurricane are all over the forecast), which could only mean one thing- we set out to discover the beach.
With The Moult situated a stones throw away from some small coves dotted around Salcombe and the gorgeous North Sands, we headed downhill from the headlands to find the sea had left us a slither of sand and several piles of seaweed, which I suppose is the luck of the draw when you have no idea about what the tide is doing. Despite that, the beach was gorgeous, and, if we hadn’t already realised- made it very clear why this part of the world is so, so well loved.
Fortunately, we’d arrived just as the sun decided to start breaking through the clouds, and although it wasn’t quite balmy enough for a dip (a total overstatement from the girl who didn’t even pop her toes in) we managed to scour the shore, meeting a couple of wet dogs and more appropriately dressed owners, as we scampered along the rocks.
As the day got later, and an afternoon itinerary called with Liz Earle– we headed back to our beautiful house on the hill for an evening of cocktails, dinner and lots and lots of chatter. It felt like a couple of days of pure medicine (or ‘soul food’ if I was being a little bit more spiritual and flamboyant) and being around so many inspiring, wonderful ladies (and Joe, naturally)- meant that it was nice to switch off for a few days. Or perhaps it’s the sea air, I can never tell.
P.S Although these photos suggest otherwise, most of the time my hair looked more like that of Robert Smith (that, or a shipwrecked Donna Sheridan)- so we obviously spent a proportionate amount of time attempting to get the perfect ‘beach-swept’ natural look, which, with a girl who describes her hair as ‘brown smoke’ (a Noel Fielding reference I cherish), it was a bit of a task. Nothing is always as it seems.