Turf Hotel, Exeter Canal and estuary

Passing the Swan's Nest, there is a little road - Station Road - that climbs up a gentle gradient to cross the railway line. It is a man-made obstacle and distinctly out of character for you are already on Exminster Marshes, the flatlands on the western bank of the Exe Estuary. The station has long since departed.

After the bridge, and past the forlorn Lions Rest public works on the left, the road narrows and the tarmac quickly gives way to what is now little more than a dusty gravel track; it narrows, burrowing into tall bushes on either side, enjoying the cosiness and tranquility of a country lane amidst the bird sanctuary, yet it is still large enough for a car. Several vehicles struggle to pass each other, like revellers in a busy nightclub corridor, drunk on their surroundings and the intimacy of a forced, fleeting embrace with like-minded souls. they appear to stop, cars almost touching, like a little hug between those in the know; then they drive on, one sated, the other expectant. The euphoria of spectacular landscape. And hospitality.

Further on, there is a small car park, already near full. Again, it is like the nightclub, only this time a busy WC, a frustrating place where people hope to discharge their vehicular obligations; they pray there is no queue and that there is a little slot available, for to leave now would be to leave unsatisfied, unfulfilled, a rimal urge nagging away at the heart and soul. The drive to experience the Devon landscape at its most spectacular. On a sunny August bank holiday Monday, the urge reaches climactic proportions, an annual pilgrimage; or a migration, just like the starlings next door.

The Exeter Canal is set several feet above the marshes; indeed, its very existence has emasculated the marsh, transforming it into rich pasture land like that of mid-Devon. Only, flat as an ironing board. Herds of Friesian cattle wander around, luxuriating in thte rich clumps of grass - there is no trace left of the former swamp - whole fields mottled by their black and white hulks. A pastoral medley of rich green, black and white.