Down to my home in Devon. . . . . . . .

Arriving in England is usually the same for me. 

When we're going straight home to Devon we take the National Express 

coach from Heathrow airport to Torquay. We no longer drive in the UK.

It's a long ride and one has to be prepared with lunch/snacks for the 5 hour 

ride - we pick up a sandwich and bottled drink from M&S or Boots at the

 airport shops and, having purchased tickets online, just wait, somewhat 

bleary-eyed from the overnight flight, until the 501 coach shows up - always 

on time believe it it not!  The ride on an almost Summer day is lovely. At this 

time of year the countryside is spectacular. It was cloudy leaving London but 

as the southwest counties appeared on the signposts, the sun peeped out 

and by the time we were 'home' the afternoon was perfect. 

My dear cousin David was at the coach station to meet us.  

He took us to a grocery store for the basics we needed at the rental cottage

 and drove us to our 'home' on the coast for the coming ten days.

More about David in a future post - we grew up together, our mums were sisters, 

and thankfully we have stayed close despite the distance since I emigrated to 

the US over fifty years ago.

The pink cottage, almost on the beach, was awaiting our arrival.

We let Jasmin choose which bedroom she preferred - this was the magnificent 

view from her window.

The sun goes down late over Tor Bay at this time of year - it remains light 

until around 10:30 PM which is wonderful, and the early dawn brings bright 

mornings by 5:30 AM.

Here, as we looked across the bay, the lights came on in Brixham, the fishing

 town where my father was born.

It's a long journey home - but always worthwhile.

Sleep was welcome that night.