Showing posts with label Pet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pet. Show all posts

Monday, 6 July 2020

An Early Morning and A Very Cornish Adventure

Morning, 

1.50am. It was early and I couldn't sleep. It was dark outside and I had only been asleep for a few hours. But it wasn't because of noisy neighbours or COVID induced insomnia, something I have struggled with since mid-lockdown. No. I was up because I was excited and just couldn't sleep. Within a matter of moment my alarm, along with my sleeping beau next to me would go off, alerting us to the time we need to get up and leave - 2am. 

After a quick stop off for petrol, we were off, a flask full of sugary coffee and Pain Au Chocolat and Blueberry muffin to keep us full, we hit the road. Our dogs safely tucked up in the back started to settle more as we headed down the motorway in the darkness of the night. Several months ago in what can only be described as a wet and uneventful January, I wrote New Year, Newquay, and finally, now we were here at that moment. With Mr Warehouse not wanting a holiday at all and me craving something remotely similar to Malaga (minus the skin cancer-inducing sunburn) I knew he wouldn't be able to resist, one of his favourite places - Newquay.  

Pulling over at a service station just outside Basingstoke I swopped with Mr Warehouse to drive the rest of the way. Two-hours down, only four more to go. Heading into the country lanes from the larger A-roads I knew we would be stopping soon. It was just coming past 5am when we stopped in a little car park in the middle of Dartmoor National Park. A vast moorland in the county of Devon, southwest England, the Dartmoor ponies roam its craggy landscape, defined by forests, rivers, wetlands and rock formations. With its multiple trails that wind through the valleys with Neolithic tombs, Bronze Age stone circles and abandoned medieval farmhouses it is certainly a beautiful landscape. The area is dotted with villages, including Princetown, home to Dartmoor Prison used during the Napoleonic Wars which was where we stopped near for a quick toilet break and walk with the pups. 

The rain soon put a holt to that though and we headed back to the confines of the car. Heading out onto the long and winding roads again we were met with some of the local wildlife including Cows, Ponies and lots of Sheep. After possibly getting lost, and many more hours on the road, much larger than the dirt country lanes and paths we nearly got stuck down, we soon arrived at the Ladyevelyn. Situated at the heart of the Newquay Bay Resort, just two miles from Newquay this peaceful holiday park is set in a peaceful valley, amongst the surrounding countryside, allowing us as guests to enjoy the best of both worlds. Obviously, due to the Coronavirus, the normal facilities including bar, heated indoor and outdoor pools, sauna and steam rooms and excellent entertainment were all out of action. 

That being said though, our holiday chalet, Ladyevelyn, offers accommodation with WiFi, private parking and dogs were welcome. With what was quoted as a "fully equipped kitchen" I would hardly classify it as such. Granted it came with a microwave and Iron as well as a fireplace, seating area with a sofa and a flat-screen TV it was comfortable and modern, however, there were no bowls just large tapas dishes, the cooker didn't work and most of the lights didn't work either. There was a fridge and a kettle however the coffee machine wasn't anywhere to be seen and there seemed to be a lack of any other amenities - I mean it wouldn't hurt to have a welcome pack including some tea, coffee, sugar and maybe a loaf of bread and some milk. A little gesture that wouldn't cost a lot but would honestly make a world of difference. The private bathroom came with a shower however the hand towels were threadbare and the mirror had rust around the edge.

However as we settled in and had a little snooze, we learnt later on that afternoon walking the dogs that the park is less than a mile to Porth Beach, however, this was not really somewhere we could have walked to easily as there were steep hills and narrow lanes everywhere, and the twenty-minute walk would have killed our eldest pooch who turned thirteen next week. It was our youngest pup was annoyed by the wind and kept barking at it into the ocean wind. As the waves came splashing in they both loved it feeling the sand between their toes and watching them both run and play on the shoreline was honestly memory I shall treasure forever. "I promised we would get you here hun, and now look at you," I said to our Golden Oldie, recalling the horrible moment I had to drop her off at the Vet's before her emergency Pyometra operation a few years back. 

Our first night was spent watching telly and chomping down on Chinese from the local. Today we visited Healey's Cyder Farm where Mr Warehouse and I explored the Bottlery, Distillery and Cellars full of apple wine, cider, brandy, whiskey and now gin. On their website, the history describes how Kay and David Healey went from turning the key in their first off-license, to bringing a 150-year-old farm back to life. Buying up a 16th century press, planting orchards and turning the fruit from their trees into world-renowned drinks and produce, this is now an award-winning cider farm. 

Overseen by their sons Sam and Joe, the Healeys are a family that’s long been in love with Cornish cyder and their's is the first Cornish distillery in 300 years. For more than 30 years the family’s been living and breathing apples every day which is why it made such a good day out ... and I suppose the free samples helped. Tomorrow's activities are sea fishing for mackerel and Wednesday we are taking a trip out with the dog's to Lands End. It's a shame to think next time I write I will be home!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Monday, 14 November 2016

Our Little Furry Starlet!

Hiya, 

So it would appear that The Zombie Sickness Bug last week has not attacked me as yet, however there is still time so I am not holding my breath too much. One thing I am looking forward to is my Christmas Mini-Break to York with Mr. Warehouse and and the Pooch. Skipbridge Farm, an idyllic stable-converted cottage just north of York city itself is going to be just what the doctor ordered and with the rolling hills of Yorkshire and beyond, not to mention the farmyard animals and Hot-Tub (I think!?) its certainly going to be a silver lining to not going on a European City Christmas Market. And although I am happy that I will be spending some of the little daylight hours we get in the UK at the moment the one thing I am not happy with is the fact that weekend after weekend it seems as though they are slipping away quicker and quicker. Melting into nothingness only for me to sit down on Sunday evening and wonder where an earth my Saturday and Sunday have disappeared to leaving me with no option to start rallying around a search party in order to look for my lost hours. 

This weekend was busy for Mr. Warehouse and I, starting with a Pet Photo Shoot we won a few weeks ago for our (OK his) pooch. Heading out to the studio we were excited and Christmas Jumpers at the ready, yes even the dog had one, we were looking forward to capturing forever our little furry baby for eternity. After having a few photo shoots myself before I knew how it all worked, the seeds of compliments and quick sneak-peeks at the screen all planted in well enough time so that the hard sell after in the viewing room is a pressure pot of beautiful images and painful bank balances. Arriving at the studio we met the photographer, an amazing guy who put us both at ease very quickly, not to mention our over-excited Pup! 

But a dilemma was on the horizon. The virtual PA had accidentally booked all of the photographers clients in for the wrong time, not realising that England have a time-zone change every Autumn. With the photographer deeply sorry, we started our shoot although twenty minutes in there was a phone call. It was another family that had also been booked in at the same time as Mr. Warehouse and I. They were over fifteen minute late for their slot but still expected a full hours shoot. Sincerely apologetic the photographer asked if we would be so kind as to let the family have theirs and return an hour later so as to finish off. We obliged, the dog probably as happy as we were to have a little relaxing break in-between. 

Taking her out for a walk and a toilet break we watched as a white Porshe Cayenne pulled into the yard. Judging them already Mr. Warehouse and I looked at each other as a middle aged couple stepped out of the car, greying hair and preened to a upper class perfection. Out of the back seats came three rowdy children, two boys and a little girl, again all primped and polished to a Mayfair standard. Herding them all inside out of the rain we listened to the families posh chatter and lack of apology for being late drift off inside. Finishing our walk quicker than we wanted, Mr. Warehouse and I headed back indoors to the reception and out of the cold and wet with our slightly soggy pet. Sat in the photographers waiting room we could hear nothing but tears and tantrums from the studio. A few times there were some softly spoken telling-off's from what I imagine to be Mom and Dad but to no avail for poor little what-ever did not seem to give any fucks about opening the door and being a general little brat and the other children appeared to sound the same. 

After their shoot they came walking out past both me, my other half and our doggy, smiling all in the knowledge we knew how unruly their little angels really are. With the polite waves from the photographer the door closed and I noticed the relief that spread on his face like warm butter on toast. Laughing our way back into the studio in order to finish up, Mr. Warehouse, the photographer and I gossipped on the family of La-Di-Da posho's as we posed once more with our beloved Canine and again we were told how good, beautiful and of well-temperament she was leaving Mr. Warehouse and I beaming like new parents. 

Soon it came to an end and we didn't even have a chance to swap into our festive gear. Nevertheless we were more than excited to see the snaps and I can already feel our credit cards itching. But that will all have to wait for York is awaiting and so is that nice little cottage of ours! Mmmm ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx