The Mr Mens at Exmoor

Drove down Friday night to Westermill Farm in Exford Exmoor to meet up with a few others, including the daughter and MM1 tent

Drive into the site was interesting. There was a sign at the top of the lane saying the road restriction was 6'6 (actually i never saw the sign) but was a bit of a shock when you arrive at the bridge. Not totally sure that the crossing was meant for a vehicle, but the gap did make me consider putting the Citreon Berlingo on a strict diet

After driving downhill (yes it is a nightmare when you realise you have actually got to get up these hills again - just grateful I wasn't in Tillie) I got to the campsite tucked into a nice lethal bend in the road.

Found the others in the far field and we were restricted to where we could camp due to the downpours of the last few days (weeks...months...year)

All pitched and stove set up (no EHU...wahhh)

Robbed Gullivers picture of the aerial view, as I wasn't energetic enough to climb the hill

First and second nights we sat in rain round the bonfire and got drenched. The last night Gumball put the tarps up, we were secure and ready for anything. So of course it didn't rain. One of the main activities was Gnome light hoopla using these 'endearing' (ok vile) lights

And the daughter brought along a small game of dilemnas. Which basically consisted of soul searching questions such as...

'If you were to have a fart problem, would you prefer odourless ones that everyone could hear, or vile smelling quiet ones?'

'Would you rather have the face of a dog, or go round smelling peopls arses?'

There was a bit of contention on this one...

'Would you rather have a cat that was a domestic cleaning goddess, or a dog who could whip up gourmet meals?'. I was the only one that wanted the dog chef. Might explain why my house is a tip

And so the night carried on with classic favourites like hum a tune and we'll guess what it is. Although somehow this changed into 9/11 consipiracy debates and whether man landed on the moon (again)

Awoke the first morning to find Homer had a purple face. Was a bit worried as no internet to google dog disease, skin colour, purple splodges. He hadn't escaped in the night so the farmer cant have branded him with the rest of the sheep. It was only by the end of the day we realised it was where he had headbutted the bottle of red wine and split it all over his head.

During the day I had a couple of trips out, first day to Minehead where I purchased half of the cake supplies of Morrisons, then walked the dogs (in the 2ft square bit of beach they were allowed)

Beach isn't great and the water is the colour of mud. Homer totally misjudging where his ball will land

Can't see why they ban dogs tbh, they should ban the blummin worms, there were millions of the vile little squirly pile things

'Mumm! carry me over them!!'

Trip to the West Somerset station in Minehead, had a mooch down the platform at the steam trains

Some buckets (please do not steal this photo as much as you are tempted :S)

Err the station

A steam train waiting to take people somewhere (began with a 'B')

I asked the Train driver if it was ok to take a pic of the poor bloke in dungarees shovelling vast amounts of coals. He said 'no problem, climb up there if u want'

So I did. And took a few pics of poor man in his sad trousers while he explained about how they stoked up the coal to get up hills, and then let the train roll down. Very much like Tillie really

Next days excursion was to Dunster. Parked up in the grounds of Dunster Castle (well 3 times I parked, as every time the attendant turned round I sneaked up the field a bit to the front). The others went off for some cream teas while I went to find a shop I spotted on the way in. Never atually found the shop but ended up at the watermill in the castles grounds Felt a bit sorry for the weird bloke at the mill, so forked out the £3.50 to look at a rusty wheel

And the exhibiton about 'flour' (amazing what you will look at on holiday. I wouldn't dream of taking a picture of he Homepride stuff in Morrisons)

And here are 4 'Handworked Cake Crushers' - no I don't know why either. Just stick them in the back of the car with Homer, and voila! job done

Arty shot of rotten window

Walked back through the gardens

Found the others still waiting for their cream tea, so decided to go and fetch the dogs for a quick walk.

The others mentioned the 'secret garden' which I found just along the path. According to the brochure it was a delightful plant haven

Unfortunately it appeared to be a secret from the gardener who couldn't find it either as it was just a mass of soil

Fetched the mutts, moved the car again and off we went for a walk in the castle gardens

Got lost again and yayyy, back at the bloody mill

Made them pose on a bench for photoshoot

5 minutes after this pic was a bit manic as a blummin squirrel decided to taunt them. So they proceeded to chase litle squirt and pull my arm sockets out

Did find this little one later devouring the bird food

So after artfully dragging them out of the river every 5 minutes we got back to the car where I dumped them, and went off to meet the rest of the group in the castle. Was told by snotty woman in entrance I must walk to the right, I rebelled and went left. Ruined her day I am sure

Did the usual tour of looking at rooms and ugly munters in pictures

I'm sure this is a man in drag (he reminds me of someone on monty pythons)

And obviously in them olde worldedays there weren't many good quilters. Some lazy git has just thrown the wadding on the bed. Admittedly it's a bit of chore finishing the quilts, but there's no excuse for medeival lazyness

Snarly duck thing with no teeth in on the castle terrace

View from the castle terrace, see it wasnt all rifles and catapults. They must have sat up here with the ambre solaire on a sunny day

Next stop was the tearoom...which just happened to be by the watermill again...

We had a v good lunch of ploughmans (except they gave it a posh name) and watched the kids rolling down the banks. Which looked like fun....
..so obviously....

Must admit the cafe gardens were cleared by the top we rolled to the bottom.

Started walking back via the 'childrens natural playground'. Obviously my child (aged 25) had a play (actually this looks more like bullying in the playground)

Detoured back via the Dunster shops

and the famous 'Yarn market' (no I hadnt got a clue what it was either, have just googled it)

So ambled back to the cars and home for more beer and campfire chat

Packed up Sunday and went home via Porlock. Had a sneaky few pics of the Classic car museum, which unfortunately is closing this year (no doubt helped by me not paying the £3.50 entrance fee) It reminded me of the 'pickers program' on TV

As it was such a lovely morning we stopped and had lunch before heading home. The cafe bloke was a bit strange - a bit like a cockney John Cleese off Fawlty Towers. After abusing us for about 15 mins he took the orders of a bun filled with..well.. whatever he had left to fill buns with. 3 of the party had soup. Which sort of seeped through the bun it was served in and all over a serviette put underneath. It wasn't going to win any cordon bleu awards.

Went out the door for the long journey home and faced this....standard british summer weather...