Monday, August 18, 2008

 

Planning permission

Despite rising food prices and other eco-catastrophes, it seems that farming in Devon is not paying very well, with one in Exminster diversifying into a golf club. Which then diversifies (after the manner of garden centres) into a restaurant. Presumably the step from farm to golf club is planning permitted and the addition of a restaurant - an essential feature of any decent golf club - is planning exempt. But building a restaurant in the middle of a field would not be exempt. Which illustrates the pain involved in making sensible planning laws.

But in this case, the result was a bright, light restaurant with huge windows offering splendid views over the Exe estuary. The sort of thing one associates with restaurants on the continent rather than at home. Certainly much better views than those offered by the two pubs down in the village. And the beer - Tribute from St Austell - was good. But the food, while paying lip-service to the temple of drizzle, was not really up to much. Maybe the farmer retained the careful habits of his youth when it came to hiring a chef. £30,000 a year for someone to whack out a few egg butties for perspiring golfers? Not on your nelly. Forgetting, at this point, the master plan to build the finest restaurant in the village.

Later that day, down to the Turf Hotel at the end of the ship canal, where we had the benefit of a spectacular sunset, with the relevant part of the sky containing spectacular clouds, some a deep crimson, some black and some (looking rather like giant trees on the horizon) grey. The water in the canal and in the estuary proper was very still - apart from odd gurglings from what looked to be large fish - and so the sky was reflected, very clearly, in the water. All in all rather effective, expecially with the aid of a little red otter from across the water. The deep crimson clouds were especially memorable. Don't recall seeing clouds that colour before - although I have seen the colour in a couple of paintings which I believe were taken from a jigsaw. I shall now treat the one surviving painting with more respect.

On the way back to the village, the golf club came into view again. In the form of the arc-lights lighting up its driving range. Luckily, they were directed and so were only a nusiance for a short portion of the walk.

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