Housesitting in Coastal England

(This is the third installment on our 8-month trip, following Colorado & London/Salisbury.)

Vizslas in the Byes

Oh, I loved this place: Sidmouth, named for its location at the mouth of the River Sid, where we housesat in Devonshire, southwest England.

I could live there long term. Why?

1. Small town

2. On the seaside

3. Access to nature out the front door

4. Walkable to restaurants and stores 

5. Dog friendly

6. Location of an annual music festival!

Sidmouth, a town of 14,000, sits on the English Channel. The house with a sprawling garden was a couple of miles from the sea. The air smelled like ocean, and seagulls squawked as they glided over the backyard.

backyard

We could walk or take our hosts' ebikes on the nature trails into  downtown, where we browsed books in the charity shops, ate fish & chips, strolled along the waterfront, and enjoyed live music at the Sidmouth Folk Festival that happened to be taking place our first week there. People sang, played, and danced along the ocean promenade and throughout the village. 

I had my first cream tea, an afternoon service of tea, scone, clotted cream and jam. I learned that the Devon way is to spread the cream, topped by jam, while in Cornwall, the jam comes first. It was extra special because we were perched on a cliff overlooking the sea at the Clock Tower, a 16th century former lime kiln. 

This area is part of the Jurassic Coast, a World Heritage site, so called because of its 185-million year geological history and fossilized remains preserved in the rocks. We were able to see other parts of the area with our hosts, who took us on a car ride along narrow, twisting lanes to Lime Regis, a beachy community with seaside restaurants and a little harbor. Taking a look at my map, I realized there was so much more to the English coast that I'd want to explore one day, other villages I might like as much as Sidmouth.

That night they took us to a carvery dinner of roasts, potatoes, vegetables, stuffing, gravy, sauces, and Yorkshire pudding. It reminded me of Thanksgiving dinner, or the all-you-can-eat smorgasbords of the 1970s. 

During our three weeks there, I took daily walks with the dogs while Dave tended to the garden. Across the street we accessed the trail that in a few minutes led to the Byes, a green ribbon of river-hugging parkland, fields, and footpaths. One large area is fenced in so dogs can run off leash, through trees, across the grasslands, and down the creek path lined by blackberry brambles to romp in the water.

Dave on an ebike along the coastal road.

The weather was mostly pleasant but quickly changeable. Sunny, cool breezes could switch in a breath to a humid shower. When the evenings cooled down, the dogs would climb into their sleeping bag beds, adorably burying themselves for the night.

These dogs--Neo (9) and Tracker (3)--were a new-to-us breed. Large, sleek and muscled, they liked nothing more than collapsing onto us like lap dogs. We felt special and loved, and sometimes suffocated--but it wasn't personal. There's a reason Vizslas are dubbed Velcro pets.

I adored taking them off leash to watch them fly across open spaces. They'd rustle in bushes and I'd lose sight of them, but they always found me before I could go far. As I said, Velcro.

Folk dancing for the festival.

One day the light was so golden I felt like I was walking in a picture book. Suddenly the dogs came bounding from the brush--and I realized they were passing something back and forth in their jaws as they romped. 

A bunny. 

DROP IT! DROP IT! I screamed, chasing after them.

They paused, confused, and released it. While I haltered the dogs, I prayed they'd merely stunned it.

Back at the house, it took me hours to soften again to them. I know it's their nature, and for them it was no different than playing ball--although probably more exciting. This red-coated breed was developed, after all, to hunt and point.

That evening we sat reading, the door open to the crisp air and two relaxed dogs on our laps. Dave asked if this was my dream life. I thought how yes, in a way it was. But so was the world we'd created, where we could live many lives.

One life to love.

If you're interested in our life of housesitting, travel and living in Mexico, check out my books Wanderland: Living the Traveling Life and Call It Wonder: An Odyssey of Love, Sex, Spirit & Travel.