“Left or right?” I asked as we trudged downhill between Saltash’s two iconic bridges spanning the Tamar.
The play park is to the right, so our six-year-old grandson quickly decided that should be the first stop.
Mr Word Loft and I were happy to sit and admire scenery from the waterfront. The dull thud of cars crossing the Tamar Bridge and the occasional sound of a train click-clacking over the Royal Albert Bridge above us could be heard. It’s a spot we never tire of, and it seems our grandson doesn’t either, as he pointed to Saltash Pier where he loves to run to the end.
From there, the river views are superb. A collection of buildings on the opposite bank in Barne Barton, Plymouth, looks rustic and quaint. Further around the water meanders to Antony Passage – the countryside rises on either side in all shades of green.
The beach is bijou, but there is still plenty to discover. Limpets cling to the sea walls and mussel shells shine on the shingle. I even found a cockleshell with the two sides still joined, which I picked up for my sea treasure shelf at home.
Walking back to the other side of the dual bridges, there is much to talk about, especially Isambard Kingdom Brunel, the man responsible for building the Royal Albert Bridge. There is a colourful mural depicting his life and a bronze statue in the shadow of his railway innovation. Sadly, he passed away aged fifty-three soon after his engineering feat was operational in 1859.
I prefer the eery life-like model of Anne Glanville (1796-1880) reclining on a bench. It’s the replica of a hardworking local woman who became famous for her four-oared watermen’s boat endeavours. After her husband died and having to care for their fourteen children, she continued with his business. She also formed an all-woman crew participating in regattas with successful results.
Beyond the bridges, the promenade curves further into Cornwall with seats situated here and there. Kayaking, paddleboarding and other water sports are enjoyed on the river with Jubilee Green at its edge.
Our grandson skipped along, enthralled by the array of boats bobbing on the waves or moored up. We had forgotten about the new ferry to Plymouth that departs from the jetty and realised we had just missed one. Irritating, but now that’s a jaunt planned for another day.
There was time though for ice creams at Ashtorre Rock, and very scrumptious they were too.
Until my next blog post,
Sue. X