By the sea

Saturday, January 5th., Chiltern Court, London.

You can find a certain kind of wide romance even in the January sales at the draper's shop. This thought came into my mind when thinking about my mother. She was a character. She told me once how she had bought some very large unbleached linen sheets, 1s.11d. each, and nearly 4 yards in length. She was told that they are woven by Russian peasants by hand. They are then sold to the French War Office, used during annual military manoeuvres, and after the wear of a month or so are sold by the French Government to English traders. So it came to pass that I slept between linen that had passed through the hands of the most miserable and unhappy people in Europe - Russian peasants and French conscripts. If that isn't romance then I don't know what is!

We returned today from our short tour of North Devon. All good. Dramatic scenery, extensive beaches, hospitable people and plenty of interesting history. I discounted the "Lorna Doone" aspect of the area as being too commonplace and was caught up instead by "Westward Ho!" which I picked up in a second-hand bookshop in Appledore. Incidentally we visited Westward Ho! the place which is nondescript, but revels in that unique exclamation mark. "Westward Ho!" has the reputation of being Kingsley's best book, and I think it is. I read it again, after perhaps 35 years. It is tremendously long, 591 close pages, and I quailed as I set forth on the voyage. There were storms en route, and good ones; but there were also interminable doldrums. I must admit to 'skipping' through the doldrums. My obstinate courage in sticking to the ship until she finally dropped anchor at Appledore has convinced me that in a previous incarnation I must have been at least Francis Drake. That said, it must be admitted that "Westward Ho!" is a confection; honest enough but a confection. I would not read it again for £100.

Now Appledore is a place in which I could live happily. Narrow lanes, steep hills, characterful inns, the rise and fall of the tide, sea-stories and sea-people. There too is romance in all its aspects: expansive tales of the sea and ships; and also the lives of those who live by the sea, but not on the sea. Conrad should have come to live there. We also liked Ilfracombe though it is fading somewhat. Made me think of an actress who has been beautiful and successful, but is now past her prime and resorts to tricks and distractions to maintain a fiction of youth and desirability.