I had a certain amount of family pride and welling up heritage as we entered Okehampton the town baring my family name and roots. I haven’t delved too much into family history and have no relatives in England I know of as have been about four generation Australian in both sides of my family. I think the reality is that my direct ancestors that came out to Australia in the mid 1800s were more from Bradworthy, Devon. What was pleasing was the dad joke even on the town signs Okehampton: the town with moor
We went to the ruins of Okehampton castle. There was an audio tour one could hook up to as you walked around to give you a commentary of how it had been originally. I posted another selfie here and one funny friend commented one has historical significance and one is a historical ruin
After the castle we walked around the village with an old chapel, and stepped into a library. There I met one of the most underwhelmed librarians. I was so bubbling with enthusiasm and family pride bursting with the fact of being a librarian, from Australia, with the name Oke. Librarian’s response… Oh…. Maybe she was bracing herself thinking I was a nutter. Anyway we talked a little about interlibrary loans and connections to other libraries in the county.
We had lunch at a bakery but slightly disconcerted by the wasps on the doughnuts and buns under the glass counter. The shopkeeper seeming oblivious to them ignoring our pointed directions and just continuing to serve customers and continue a conversation with a local in for a big chin wag.
Given the amount of driving undertaken the day before and seriously questioning why we had not made our holiday a bit more spaced out to spend and explore more of this lovely part of the world I suggested we take the short 1 hour drive down to Plymouth just to check it out.
It was amazing driving through the beautiful countryside with rolling hills and pretty little historic villages. Having already spent a full morning by the time we got to Plymouth we were fatigued so only briefly explored some of the ports, couldn’t easily find any beachfront and headed back to Sticklepath. Another example of how we should have made more time to stop, stay and explore.
That evening we found in our accommodation a print out of a walking tour of Stickepath pointing out historical buildings some with thatched roofs. And that evening went to a traditional English pub for a curry.