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. 

Sliver of Time: London & Salisbury

We finally made it to the UK together after a decade of travels!

We'd seen Nikki only once, on a video call from our house in Mexico to hers in England. But when she stepped out of her car, she gave us hugs--and so did her two girls, ages 8 and 5. Their greeting made me feel less like a housesitter and more like a long-lost auntie.

I was glad to sink into the car and the girls' happy chatter after 12 hours of travel--a red-eye from Denver to London, followed by three subway trains that took us in circles while I texted Nikki to finally figure out where to get off.

We pulled up to a brick suburban house with a bright green door. After hauling our suitcases up the narrow stairs, we took a walk with Nikki, the girls, and Sully, their black-and-white cocker spaniel to nearby Epping Forest, an area of ancient woodlands. We followed paths through towers of trees to a grassy field with a playground and coffee shop. 

Squirrels scuttled around, and swans with cygnets floated on the water. Nikki instructed us to keep the dog out of area of the lake where the swans congregated because they were known to drown small dogs. So it's not just in mythology that swans are violent. Sully was obsessed with his ball and would follow it anywhere, while always keeping us in his sight.

Sully in Epping

That night Nikki made us dinner and we fell into bed before her husband returned home from work. In the morning, they left for their trip to France. Disembodied from jet lag, we stumbled back to the park with Sully. Sipping coffees on a bench, we threw his ball and watched him zig and zag in coordinated patterns like a search party to retrieve it. I thought about how as travelers to England we would never have this experience living on the edge of the city without housesitting. 

In Epping, we met a woman walking a dog who turned out to be a housesitter, too. It was her first time using Trusted Housesitters (we've been using it for years)--and as a Brit she was starting locally to build up good reviews. That's always my advice to people: do sits in your area first.

Usually we do longer sits, but when we'd seen this four-day one, we thought it would a good UK starting point  and a chance for a low-key time to get over jet lag. We lucked out with perfect weather: sunny, cool mornings and warm, breezy afternoons. 

with Kelly & Terry in London

And more luck: turned out our longtime California friends Kelly and Terry were in England and met up with us one day. We enjoyed a park walk followed by a pub meal. It was to be on another continent with old friends--even though by now  this kind of thing isn't rare in our lives. (An aside: I've been pleased to find alcohol-free beers everywhere in the UK!)

One day, we took the train into the city. There was a lot of activity in Trafalgar Square, large groups carrying Union Jack flags and, to our horror, a couple of Trump signs. We learned it was a far-right gathering led by Tommy Robinson, a British anti-immigration campaigner. (In a few weeks, many of these people or those like them would be arrested and imprisoned for violent riots, fueled in part by online disinformation, after three young girls were knifed to death by a 17-year-old in Southport.) 

Nationalist Rally

Later, we'd have a number of people, from taxi drivers to those who struck up conversations in restaurants, expressing their concerns about that presidential candidate's hateful effect on the world. They always wanted to know who we politically supported and received nothing but kudos when we assured them we did not support him.

the Lyceum Theater

Also happening that day in London was an even larger anti-hate demonstration, as well as a transgendered and drag queen street celebration. We'd unknowingly landed in London in the middle of a cultural clash that we briefly escaped by ducking into the Lyceum Theatre to see the Lion King. 

Visually, the show was spectacular, and the singing sent bolts of lightning through me. But I was disappointed at the lack of a full orchestra. A few people hidden in the shadows of the orchestra pit created music from some kind of machine. I mourned the fullness of real instruments and learned that many orchestras were stripped back during the pandemic and never restored. What a loss.

When the family returned, seeing how happy Sully was to be reunited with his pack made it easier to say goodbye. Our next stop was Salisbury, a couple of hours south by train. In the States, we'd bought BritRail passes, which--after we figured out the confusing way to activate them--provided us with a discount. 

We stayed a few nights in a glass-and-light filled Airbnb with a queen bed in the upstairs loft. When we arrived it was hot, so we opened up the windows and turned on the standing fan. I have not seen a ceiling fan in three months in the UK and Europe--and I miss sleeping under a swirl of moving air.

Salisbury Cathedral and sheep in a sunset glow

We were in the area to see some things on Dave's list, starting with the cathedral built in the 1200s that has the tallest spire in all of Britain at 404 feet. Inside, it's a cavern of intricacies and buried bodies. I was fascinated by the monument in a candlelit corner of Lady Gorges, who came to England from Sweden in 1565 at age 15 to be a handmaid to Queen Elizabeth I. She married twice and died at age 86 with 92 descendants. I fantasized about getting lost of the rabbit hole of her life to write a historical novel. 

We also viewed one of the four surviving copies of the Magna Carta. It was stirring to see the handwritten document that is a forerunner to democracy, especially given the authoritarian threats we'd just been reminded of in London.

Stonehenge

Our main reason, however, for coming to this region was to experience Stonehenge, that iconic, prehistoric structure that I was sure would be a tourist trap but that, instead, moved me with its eerie grandiosity. Whoever erected it out on that vast plain had their human reasons more than 5,000 years ago--and I felt the echoes of their voices. 

Afterward, we hiked around the Roman hill fort of Old Sarum, the ghosts of ancient people floating by us on the breeze. My life felt like a microscopic sliver of time. 

Old Sarum in the distance

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. 

Connections & Colorado Housesit

Dave and Yuki in the backyard.

We've been housesitting for a decade now. And I'm still amazed when we drop into someone's life and quickly become intimates. 

To launch our eight-month, multi-country trip, we flew from Baja to Denver. That night over dinner, the homeowners--a couple in their early 30s--mentioned that she's Belgian and he's from Indiana. I couldn't help but ask how they met. It turned out to be a story about how traveling and meeting people from other worlds can profoundly change you.

She grew up in the Congo, and then in high school went on a study abroad to Indiana. He'd spent his whole life in the small-town Midwest and had lost a number of friends to opioid overdoses. His father was in prison for making meth to support his coke habit, and his mother was an alcoholic. 

He said he quietly watched everyone around him succumb to substances, knowing he wanted his life to be different. And then he met this European girl who'd grown up in Africa--and the windows of possibility blew wide open. After graduating, they spent time working in Morocco and traveling. He said if he'd never met her, he'd probably still be suffocated in that small town.

Barr State Park in Brighton, Colorado

And now they were married and headed to Belgium, taking along some of his family members who'd never been out of the U.S. That's why they needed us to come care for their house and sweet dog, Yuki.

I liked their little house in a quiet working-class neighborhood. There was a place to sit and read, a table for playing games and writing, a well-stocked kitchen, a comfortable bed, and a nearby grocery store. We are traveling with only carry-ons, and I relish the light touch of having plenty in a small package.

I was happy they let us use their Subaru because every day I opened the hatchback for Yuki to jump in, and then drove eight miles to a dog park surrounding a lake. He romped off leash while I walked loops around the lake. He would have made a great search-and-rescue dog because he'd splash in the water and emerge with a ball, a Frisbee, and once even a doll head. A few times we also took him to Barr State Park, an expansive marsh land inhabited by deer, egrets, and other water fowl.

Back at home, he'd hang out on his pillow, silently watching birds and passersby out the window. I'd never met such a quiet dog. (Later, the homeowners would tell me that clearly Yuki missed us because he seemed depressed for a few days when they returned. I missed him, too. It's hard not to get attached to some of the pets we care for, and saying goodbye sucks.)

Big love at Red Rocks!

Dave and I had chosen the Denver area to launch our trip because a group of our friends were descending for three nights of String Cheese Incident shows at Red Rocks. Several of these friends had come to Baja six months earlier for a music festival. As we danced beneath the towering sandstone formations, I thought about how over the years, we've collided with friends worldwide.

Kevin and I taught in China. We met up in Colorado with his new wife, Nadia.

This has turned out to be a theme of our trip, as we've met up with friends new and old--human and dog--sometimes in astonishing ways. I'll share some of those stories in my next entry about six weeks of taking trains and housesitting all over the UK.

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. 

Housesitting and Home and Dogs

Winter California hiking

 

The first half of 2024 has been a mix of housesitting and staying home at our casita. At home, Dave loves to garden, I like to hill hike, we enjoy being close to the beach, and we like our community. So why not stay put? Because we like exploring. And we like living many different lives.

California coyote

In January we housesat in California, in a home I first stepped my size-10 foot in more than 30 years ago. It belonged to Gabriele Rico, my other-mother and mentor, whom I've written about in Call It Wonder. She died a decade ago, and the last time I stood in her house was for her celebration of life. 

Bath with a view in Cupertino.

Her former husband asked Dave and me if we'd come care for the home for five weeks--a book-and-art studded place in the Cupertino hills. All we had to do was feed the koi and haul the garbage cans to the bottom of the driveway once a week. He sweetened the deal by letting us use his car. It's always good to see friends and to nestle into the familiarity of the area (until the reality of traffic and prices hit).

Happy to get some Stacey time.

And some Sally & Kelly time...on the deck of the house.

Much of the home is the way it had been when Gabriele lived there, including her office. She taught me so much about writing, and she helped my creative soul come alive. I pulled off the shelf several books I'd given her over the years, including the first literary magazine that published my poetry. As I sat at her desk, I could feel her energy as I worked on planning for my forthcoming writing retreat. 

Fast-forward a few months to that, back in Mexico:

Revolutionary Writers!

Seventeen revolutionary women gathered in Baja Sur for Angela Yarber's and my Reimagining Writing retreat, where we wrote, beach walked, swam, got massages, rode horses, did yoga, ate incredible food, played music, experienced the eclipse and a sound bath--and most importantly, created a community of writers we will never forget. This retreat had been in the making for a year--and it surpassed my dreams in quality, heart, and intensity. Afterward, I slept three 10-hour nights!

Dave, Miles & Jude 

At home, we got some magical hang-out time with our friends Jude, Melissa, and their son Miles who visited Todos Santos. We enjoyed our regular lives of cooking, reading, and yoga--and I borrowed my friends' dogs for walks. 

walking with Sierra

walking with Deva

Whenever we're gone I especially miss Zumba. The Todos Santos class makes me feel like a teenager dancing in the chorus of the spring musical. The whole thing is so positive and uplifting.

I'm in the back in pink, flashing a peace sign.

Even though I love to  move my body, I discovered my cholesterol had soared. So I cut off the half-and-half that had slipped back into my mornings and finally and happily quit alcohol for good (that one's been coming on for 9 years). I also began eating oatmeal with flax and fruit every morning, dates for dessert, and cut back on portions. In just over two months, my cholesterol dropped 100 points! Eating this way makes me feel great, so that's my motivation now.

Another housesit opportunity came along: two weeks at a big house with a pool and jacuzzi and darling dog named Ollie, an hour south of us in Cabo. 

It was nice to have our own pool and jacuzzi for a couple of weeks.

The owner said we could have a friend come stay. So we got to celebrate Dave's birthday with one of his best friends, Craig.

Dave and Craig in Cabo.

with Craig in San Jose del Cabo for a taco feast

Also, lucky us, one of my BFFs Nancy, with her husband Andy, happened to be in Cabo for the weekend--and they took us to a local soccer (futbol) game. The stands were packed and when Los Cabos United won, the celebration began with people drumming and singing and dancing. I loved seeing this side of Mexico.

Futbol in our new jerseys!

The Cabo homeowner asked us if we could come back in June for a few days. I was tempted since I'd fallen head-over-paws in love with Ollie, who followed me around like he loved me just as much.

Ollie  with me, the jacuzzi, and the mermaid.

But I wanted to suck up every moment at home until we leave in early July (more on that in a moment). So here's a first: she's bringing him to me for a few days in June. I can't wait to take him on my hikes and beach walks.

I'm realizing there are lots of DOGS in this entry. I casually said to Dave the other day that I might be ready soon to get our own dog. He looked at me cross-eyed, trying to register that I said this on the eve of our leaving to travel for 8 months. Would I really want to leave my own dog for that long, even if it was with loving sitters like us?

Hm...okay, maybe I was jumping the pistola. Who knows how I'll feel when we return after traveling to:

England

Wales

Portugal 

Paris

Spain

Cape Verde

Brazil

Argentina

Peru

Colombia

and ?

Our itinerary isn't completely set, but we know this will involve housesits, rentals, visiting friends, flights, trains, a rental car, and at least one boat.

A nice couple with, yes, a dog, will be in our home during that time. Why won't that be us? Because over a decade ago we decided we wanted to see the world. And we're not done yet.

*

PS: I've been talking about nomadding and housesitting on podcasts lately. Check these out:

Housesitting in Mazatlan, Guanajuato & San Miguel de Allende

Our private pool for a month.

Three months on the mainland of Mexico without paying for a single night of lodging? That's the world of housesitting! As I write about in Wanderland: Living the Traveling Life, we've been doing this for a decade, and we get sits through various websites and referrals.

Our first stop was Mazatlan for a month, starting in mid-August. This was an unusual housesit: a five-unit complex. The owners rent out spaces during high season (fall/winter/spring)--and in the summer, they want someone there to keep an eye on the place. We stayed in a two-bedroom apartment, our responsibilities to pay the pool cleaner (with the owners' cash) and check the units for leaks after a downpour. 

Yes, it was hot and humid, reminding me of Southeast Asia. That pool was a godsend, and since we were the only ones there, swim time was clothing-optional.

Walking along the malecon.

The location at Olas Altas ("High Waves") was amazing. We were close to the malecon, the biggest water-front esplanade in all of Mexico at 13 miles long. Many mornings I'd walk down the malecon with other walkers, joggers, inline skaters, and bicyclists. 

Zumba in Mazatlan!

After a mile walk, passing fishermen offering fresh catches and beaches with morning swimmers, I'd meet up with a large group of Mexican women and two super-entertaining male teachers for a Zumba class. While we danced, waves offered a cooling spray. Afterward, I'd try to overcome my shyness by speaking in Spanish. The last thing I've ever been accused of is being shy, but being in another culture and trying to speak another language changes my personality.

Mariachis on the night streets.

We were also close to Mazatlan's Old Town, a picturesque compendium of 19-century buildings, plazas, and restaurants--and a huge mercado where we bought fresh produce. If we didn't feel like walking back, we'd hail a pulmonia, taxis that are cute souped-up golf carts. Strangely, "pulmonia" means pneumonia, drawn from the idea that riding in an open-air vehicle can give you a cold. Odd PR--but super fun!

Sunset on the malecon.

We got this gig through Eden, who lived nomadically for many years but has now happily settled in Mazatlan with her husband. She introduced us to her friends Carol and Alex, who are from the Bay Area, close to where Dave and I used to live. They became our new BFFs. We had a blast wandering around with them, going out to eat, playing cards, and watching sunset on the malecon that bustled with families late into the night. Dave and Carol met up for yoga a few times a week as well. 

With Carol & Alex

Next stop was Guanajuato, a beautiful mountain colonial town. It's the capital city of the state of Guanajuato in Central Mexico. Formerly a mining town, its streets are narrow and winding and it has underground tunnels you can drive through. At 6500-foot elevation, it was much cooler there...which also meant gasping for breath while walking the steep streets. 

With Nat & Jodie in the mining hills.

Fortunately, a small funicular could haul us back up the mountain, since we were staying at the very top, in a darling apartment near the Pipila monument, with a vast view of the colorful city. Nat and Jodie, housesitters par excellence, hooked us up with the gig and showed us around the city, including their favorite taco cart. They were full-time nomads for years but now are settled down in their favorite place in Mexico. 

Our view

I fell in love with wandering around the city on foot, stumbling across musicians and dancers in the streets, people-watching in the shady parks, and stopping into cafes and bookstores. While there are people everywhere of all ages, Guanajuato is a university town, so there's also lots of young energy. 

Guanajuato

It's famous for having a collection of disinterred mummies. But we skipped that "entertainment" and instead were drawn to the house where Diego Rivera and his twin brother (who died at age two) were born. It's now a museum with a labyrinth of exhibits, a collection of his works and preliminary sketches. I was entranced by this photo:

Diego & Frida

I easily could have stayed there longer, but next we were headed 50 miles east to San Miguel de Allende for six weeks. I know a lot of people who fell in love-at-first-sight with this UNESCO world heritage site, famous for its grand, colonial architecture and arts scene. Spoiler: While I enjoyed our time there, I wasn't as drawn to it as Mazatlan and Guanajuato, mainly because the cobblestone streets and narrow sidewalks are difficult to walk on and don't allow for as much lively outdoor public space. However, there's no question it's beautiful.

Our roomies for a week.

Our first sit was a week in a sprawling home with all the amenities. It was outside of downtown, but the homeowners--who were easy to befriend--let us use their car. We took care of two darling dogs, which meant only feeding and loving on them because they had a dog walker. There was also a housecleaner, a woman I enjoyed talking with in Spanish. 

Indigenous parade

Just a sample of the proliferation of Dia de Los Muertos fun.

Our next sit, for five weeks, had its ups and downs. Even though this one also included a car, we didn't have to drive much because we could walk everywhere: restaurants, shops, and El Jardin (the main tree-lined plaza). I could even stroll to Zumba at a nearby park. The gorgeous house was constructed of stone and was oddly cold. At least 10 degrees colder than outside. We wished we'd brought warmer clothes. When I was frozen to the bone, I'd hop in the hot tub, so I can't complain too loudly.

He loved Dave but not strangers.

The dogs, while adorable, were having some issues; they could be aggressive with each other and strangers. Fortunately, the homeowner hired a dog trainer to work with them. Still, handling their needs meant San Miguel was feeling less like vacation than our other sits.

so colorful

We were lucky to be there during the colorful Dia de Los Muertos festivities. In fact, September through October was a time of multiple festivals, with all kinds of events, parades, and our least favorite part, ear-splitting fireworks before dawn.

Nomads...and a few peeps I know from other lives!

Fiesta with housesitters.

We met a lot people from all over the world and were invited to a party one night for live music, belly dancers, and the most beautiful, haunting flamenco singer and dancer. We also had a few meet-ups with travelers and friends old and new.

Flamenco dancer 

There are lots of fancy restaurants in SMA, but our favorite food was at this taco stand.

One day we walked down a long street lined with stands selling a profuse array of flowers and shiny objects to place on headstones. It led to a huge public cemetery, like a ghost city in miniature, where people honored their ancestors by cleaning and decorating their graves. Music played and a full Catholic service was in action, with a priest offering communion. I felt like there we experienced the true meaning of Dia de los Muertos.

My favorite outing was La Gruta spa, about 30 minutes outside town, for some thermal springs rejuvenation. We next went to nearby Atotonilco, part of a World Heritage site, a religious complex built in the 18th century. The interior of the sanctuary features murals, sculptures, inscriptions, and oil paintings in Mexican folk baroque and indigenous styles. I hadn't seen anything like it since I was in Italy--and later I discovered it's been called the "Sistine Chapel of Mexico."

La Gruta

"Mexican Sistine Chapel"

In the pueblo we stopped for phenomenal tacos made by two sisters. A couple sitting near us, who have lived in the area for years, confirmed that we'd stumbled onto the best street tacos in the whole area.

que rico!

My other favorite thing was this: When I posted on a San Miguel de Allende Facebook page asking about Zumba classes, I got an offer to join a class at a private home. Of course, I jumped on that! Turns out that Vail and her mom started having the teacher come to them during the pandemic and never stopped. 

Zumba at Vail's

Vail has lived in Mexico for 30 years and is married to a Mexican man. She's also writing a book. So we made an exchange: Spanish lessons for an edit of her manuscript. Now that I'm home, we're meeting once a week on Zoom. She also threw in a food and history tour for Dave and me, since she runs the company. We enjoyed tasting food in five different spots and learning about the history of the city.

I'm grateful that housesitting makes it possible for us to live in so many places, trying out so many lives.