Torquay, the English Riviera

12th - 22nd September 2012

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We wandered up and down the promenade, getting a good view of Torquay across the water on what had turned out to be a thoroughly pleasant day weather-wise.

We decided to grab a quick evening meal at the Flagship, a Wetherspoon's style pub restaurant a stone's throw from the beach (and from the play area).  Daisy didn't seem particularly hungry and set to work colouring (as usual).

Lynne went for the enticing "sausage and mash served in a Yorkshire pudding" dish.

Daisy stole one of my onion rings but gave it me back rather than eating it, and barely touched her food after that.

She decided that it would be much more preferable to sort the condiments.

Lynne had previously pointed out this sinister cardboard cut-out of Noel Edmonds inexplicably in the window of a house on the way back to the car park.

On her previous day's wanderings, Lynne had discovered that cycling's Tour of Britain had a stage finish in Dartmouth, which was only about 45 minutes along the coast (either driving circuitously, which we chose to give Daisy a chance to sleep, or heading directly there and getting a ferry across the water).  It was too good an opportunity to pass up and, on a glorious Saturday, we dumped our car at a park 'n' ride and gave Daisy her first taste of bus journeying in her relatively short existence.  She did not like it.  The anxiety is already apparent from the photo below, and she did not last long sat on the seat on her own.

When we arrived in the centre of Dartmouth, we needed lunch, so Lynne popped to the nearby M&S while Daisy and I set up on a grassy patch which happened to be right near the start-finish line.

Daisy had soon made a friend.  Well, sort of - the older girl wouldn't give her any of her snacks, which numbered plenty (from bacon fries to chocolates or biscuits).  Bit stingy but Daisy was too mild-mannered and eager to be friendly to be too perturbed.

Some people were prepared to go to more extreme measures in order to be able to get a good vantage point.

And that's all for now.

You don't have to wait for long for the next update.  So, back at the Dartmouth finish line, there was still at least an hour before the cyclists were scheduled to arrive, so we went for a walk.  The péloton would be sans Bradley Wiggins, who had withdrawn from the Tour with a stomach bug (good job that didn't happen during the Tour de France or the Olympics), leaving Mark Cavendish as the remaining British cycling celebrity (he would be wearing the rainbow jersey as the reigning world champion).  This photo gives an indication of how it was already getting quite busy.

Dartmouth looked very picturesque on what was a splendidly scorching day (for September).  This shot is looking across the harbour to what are doubtless some expensive homes on the hillside.

The local wildlife wasn't shy.

Back in another grassy square, Daisy found another friend whilst Lynne went for a wander.  She looks she is biding her time for something here...

...and sure enough.  In actual fact, she didn't really do anything here.  Her pose is just from the momentum of walking on her knees - I think the boy fell over as he backed off, perhaps fearing a bear hug from Daisy, who is always keen to show her affection.

And then suddenly they were here.  I grabbed Daisy and shot off to get some semblance of a vantage point, but it was to not much avail - the finish line was surrounded by a significant number of onlookers and it was difficult to get much more than a glimpse of the cyclists (of course, this is normally the case anyway, since they fizz along at some speed).  This was one of the better shots, and it was of one of the riders who were further back - my method was restricted to holding the camera high in the air and hoping for the best.  This was also a moment of weakness since I was using the other arm to hold Daisy, who took the opportunity to grab my shades and, under strict instructions not to throw them, hurl them onto the floor, breaking them in the process.  Grrr.

Then it was time for the presentation ceremonies, which managed a longer list than just stage winner and tour leader, with king of the mountains, sprint leader, plus ride of the day and maybe a young rider one too.  I struggled again to get a good vantage point, and when the Brit, Jonathan Tiernan-Locke, was again given the yellow jersey as tour leader (having taken the lead the day before in the hills of Caerphilly), the reaction was a sea of waving hands and smartphones, rendering the view somewhat obstructed.  Move out of the way, stupid hand people!  (Yes, I was one to those behind me, but still...)

JTL went on to win the tour the next day, becoming the first Brit winner of the Tour of Britain for 20 years.  After the ceremony had finished, everyone frantically cleared away; so much so that the queue for the shuttle bus was very long and there was talk of a significant wait, so we went for a stroll.  Along the way, we saw the ferry coming in to dock, an option which we had considered.

After walking back, we discovered the queue to be just as long, but in actual fact it didn't take quite as long as feared to get on the bus, and before long we were in the car, heading home.  It was all too much for some people.  We may have had a chippy tea this evening, but I can't be sure.

The Sunday morning was somewhat cloudier as we wandered down to the harbour, getting a glimpse of a large cruise liner - but no sign of anything that might belong to Roman Abramovich (who usually followed us around when we were on holiday).

On the street near the harbour, I caught a glimpse of something that would be right up Lynne's street, were she still the person that went clubbing, which she's not.

A band of musicians filled the area with some classical tunes, in a very patriotic gala tent which also had signs advertising the "English Riviera".

Another bit of grass, another friend for the day who did not want to allow Daisy to get her hands on anything.

Daisy did at least get to show off her standing up ability.

We finally got up close and personal with the big wheel, although one of us wanted to go on there.  We wondered whether to take Daisy on but decided against it.  Whilst there was the option to get off after each turn of the wheel, she generally does not favour such things.  Lynne can't stand them so would have been on pushchair duty whether Daisy joined me or not.

Daisy got tremendously excited when she saw me in the big wheel, looking out for me every time I went round, flapping her arms and legs.

That's it for now.

I nearly forgot to turn the commentary on, which was reasonably interesting, but the main draw were the views.  This is looking west along the coast, showing a few of the beaches between Torquay and Paignton.

And a shot of the harbour and shopping area of Torquay.

It was all too much for some people...  Nice quiff, Daisy.

As the holiday went on, and we frequented the restaurants of Torquay (this was another Italian, Prezzo), Daisy become more keen to have her own juice, which she used ever more unique ways of consuming.  Unable to use a straw properly at this point, she decided the best approach was to dunk the straw in and put it in her mouth.  We had to help her out with the garlic bread.

Another development was her ability to use a fork (anything, basically, to act like an adult), which was perfect for penne bolognaise.

For dessert, guess what...

Daisy had clearly had a good time as we struggled back up the hill (and back down the other side) - it's alright for some.

Time for another page.