The random witterings of Jonathan Morris, writer.

Tuesday 22 September 2009

Down To The River


Went back down to Somerset for a couple of days to see my parents. Who read this blog! Hello parents!

For a day out we went to Watersmeet, on the edge of Exmoor, North Devon, where I had a little walk from Farley Water down to Lynmouth. As you can see, it’s all waterfalls and original woodland with the trees all gnarled with age. It’s one of the most beautiful places in the world and should I die, and not end up in Poets’ Corner of Westminster Abbey on the strength of my work for Big Finish, then it’d be a good place to dump my ashes. We then went for lunch at the Blue Ball Inn. By then, the mist was clearing and we drove back on the Minehead road – or, as the signs would have you believe, the Road Of 29 Casualties This Year.

My parents have to put up with a lot from me on these trips out. For example, we passed the bit of river where the book Lorna Doone was set, which always means my dad has to comment that the farmer who owns the bit of land next to it is ripping people off by charging to go up the path when, if you go there a different way, you can get there for free. So I ask who wrote Lorna Doone, so my mum will say ‘Richard Blackmore’, so I can ask, ‘Was he one of the Bronte Sisters?’

My parents’ village has a ‘Please drive carefully through village’ sign. I hate those signs. So smug and condescending. And so are the ‘Thankyou for driving carefully’ signs. Just once I want to see a ‘Thankyou for driving carefully. Now you have left the village, please feel free to start driving recklessly again.’