Brixham and Berry Head

I’ve only been to Berry Head in South Devon twice before. The first time I parked in the wrong car park, spent ages walking there with young children and had a horrible time. The second time I went with my son and the Puffin Whisperer because we were on the trail of Bee Orchids.

I had a much better time.

This time I’ve managed to park in the Brixham Breakwater car park first and have a good look around. It says my parking ticket is valid in all the Torbay Council car parks. Finally, a bit of sense.

The saying is that seaside towns and villages are “A quaint fishing village with a drinking problem.” Brixham, however, has been known as, “A quaint drugs town with a fishing problem,” although I’ve never known it to be anything other than delightful.

Gorgeous, isn’t it?

Brixham - The Hall of Einar - photograph (c) David Bailey (not the)

It’s amazing what a bit of gaudy paint can do to an unsympathetic and ugly array of random windows.

Along the breakwater there’s a woman walking her dog. It’s allowed its ball to run down the sea defences and into the harbour. She has no intention of getting it, and neither does the dog.

Brixham - The Hall of Einar - photograph (c) David Bailey (not the)

She tells me all about. She soon gets the impression that I have no intention of getting the ball either. I’m helpful to anyone, but I’m not a dog’s dog.

There’s a trawler returning with its arms open wide, waiting for a hug from the harbour:

Brixham - The Hall of Einar - photograph (c) David Bailey (not the)

After the fun of the breakwater we drive to the Berry Head car park. It’s not owned or run by Torbay Council and therefore our parking isn’t valid.

Poppies are some consolation:

Poppies - The Hall of Einar - photograph (c) David Bailey (not the)

On the cliffs are Guillemots:

Berry Head - The Hall of Einar - photograph (c) David Bailey (not the)

And in the sea they bob like champagne corks and scatter like fireworks as fishermen come to check their crab pots and unsympathetic jetskiers come too close with their motorbikes of the sea.

Berry Head - The Hall of Einar - photograph (c) David Bailey (not the)

There’s also the loud song of a tiny warbler coming from the top of a tree. It’s not phased by my presence. I’m obviously less of a threat than other Whitethroats are to its territory:

Whitethroat - The Hall of Einar - photograph (c) David Bailey (not the)

As we leave there’s a Blackbird with a bare head. It’s a classic sign of stress. All that defending territory and bringing up chicks takes its toll.

Blackbird - The Hall of Einar - photograph (c) David Bailey (not the)

I know how it feels. It’ll be fine once the chicks have fledged and it’ll all grow back.

I’ve had such a nice time I’ll be back to check.

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