Torquay, the English Riviera

12th - 22nd September 2012

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A game was on at Wombley Stadium...

The toilets were amusingly described.  In fact, this kind of amusing wordplay was a feature of the model village.  For example, the Satellite Earth Station manager was called Mark Owney (after the former telecommunications company Marconi) and Merrivale Weather Centre manager was named Will B Dulla.

There were even some staged fires.  Alas, this had to be photographed with my phone as my sand-ridden camera lens chose not to telescope any more.

We just about had enough time left in the day (whilst light) to visit the Babbacombe Cliff Railway.  This was the view down, which Lynne could just about cope with.  (Track based tramways are certainly more palatable for her than hanging (and swaying) cable cars.)

There were little huts reminiscent of Exmouth but, given the time of day and year, they were currently not in use.

This guy must have been pretty bored stood here all day.

The beach at one end was closed for safety reasons.  A sign noted this, saying "serious geological problems" had been identified which could lead to "sudden large rock falls reaching the beach".  This did not deter an old lady walking nearby, though.  Tsk.

The sight of a beach had Daisy yearning to go on, but we were not adequately resourced and, besides, it was a bit chilly.  It was time to head back up since the café was closing and, besides a shop, there was not much else to do.

On the way back, we found the hotel (Gleneagles) which inspired Fawlty Towers following a stay there by the Monty Python gang.  They have not leveraged the hotel's fame to improve its outward-looking décor it seems.

That evening, we went to a strange hybrid restaurant which served both American and Thai food.  On our final full day in the south west of England, we drove up to Pennywell Farm, which turned out to be a very enjoyable, activity-filled place to go.  And there were amazing views.

We arrived there just in time for the pig racing.  This may or may not have been the leading pig.

This is what was at stake (or steak).

There were also lots of little pigs which had a go, albeit with lower jumps to negotiate.

It was then time to try out the miniature railway, which was a bit of a squeeze for the reasonably tall adults.  Daisy didn't like it at first (if I remember correctly), but then didn't want to get off.  (Oh the fickleness of youth.)

While Lynne took some time out with a drink, Daisy and I headed to the trampoline.  Months of watching her mother keep the house clean (or perhaps just simply genetics) have leant Daisy an air of cleanliness.  Her first task upon being put on the trampoline was to pass me all the leaves.  It wasn't like they were getting in her way - the trampoline area was plentiful and the leaves were in the margins - but it just had to be done.

Of course, not being able to walk or stand does rather limit one's ability to bounce on a trampoline.

So it was time to switch to the slide.  She had great fun on here, not that it shows.

There was a room full of small animals, who couldn't resist sniffing each other.

Not that this was restricted to the smaller animals of course.

Whilst they were continuing to look round the stables, I headed over to where I thought the rocket ride was going to occur (based on the timing), purely to watch.  But they were struggling to fill the seats after the initial run so I (begrudgingly, of course) offered to step in (well, more accurately it might be said that I was encouraged to partake).  There was not much room for my legs, though.

Lynne and Daisy had not yet come over to this part, but I saw them and waved from a distance.  Daisy, seemingly, saw me and shouted "Dada" but Lynne didn't think that I would be sat in one of these.  But there I was...

Immediately afterwards, we all went on a more leisurely ride...

...on which the task was to spot pictures of animals as we went round.

They had even set up a little farm scene on the route.

Daisy got into some feeding action.

Here is a map of Pennywell Farm.

We went back to Amici's for our final night, not least because we knew it would be open so that we could have an early tea.  Daisy played with an Etch-a-Sketch type thing (you could wipe the drawing clean at any time).

Over the course of the holiday, she grew steadily more determined to have her own drink.  This may have been the drink that spilled over the floor and me when it was knocked over by Daisy...

Daisy knows her own mind when it comes to ordering her meal.

If she had her own way, she would order ice cream and nothing else.  Witness the mess she has got herself in.  It's a wonder she actually consumed any of the stuff.

On our final morning, we chill outside for the first and last time.

The end.

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