Exeter St. Davids

Down in Exeter now with my cousin Nick, who hasn't changed significantly in the eight years (or so) since I last saw him. I suppose I haven't changed much either, at least not in terms of basic outlook on life or bone structure (although I've discovered God and him, red wine reduction sauces). We're having properly English weather -- drizzly and cold with periods of breathtaking beauty where the sun breaks through the coulds during a walk and you remember why so many people spent their whole lives painting this country. Haven't done much of note, but I find I don't really want to -- train rides through sheepfields while eating Walker's crisps, browsing through bizarre little shops filled with postcards from 40 years ago, taking long walks to work off the inevitable 'afters' filled with cream and sugar which Gran presses on me at every opportunity, drinking wine and playing Scrabble with lovely people... these are perhaps not the sort of things everyone wants out of a vacation, but they're just what I want (and need) right now.

Also, for anyone who's interested in period drama, the BBC adaptation of Elizabeth Gaskell's Cranford (with Dame Judy Dench) is superbly hilarious.