Friday was my uni friend A's 24th birthday, and to celebrate, a group of us descended on his house for Chinese food before heading into P-Town for drinks. My uni bestie, Thailand buddy, and soonish-to-be housemate M and I drank two bottles of red wine (which sounds like nothing but we are both rather tiny people), and I spent most of the evening arm wrestling, thumb wrestling, playing Slaps, and having staring contests with a guy in a cabaret bar. Before you ask, yes, we had met before- I'm not the sort of person who approaches strangers in bars and challenges them to an arm wrestle, though I'd like to meet you if you are that way inclined. I'm sure it must lead to some brilliant stories.
Needless to say, after tumbling into my bed a little too late, and waking up a little too early, on Saturday morning M and I were feeling ever so slightly worse for wear. We breakfasted, showered, blow dried, and hopped into M's car for a potter in Tavistock, where we ran in and out of the town's adorable gift shops, resisted the lure of the fudge in the market, and cured our hangovers with fizzy drinks and nachos with spicy bean chilli in a sweet little cafe.
As I've mentioned countless times before I live on Dartmoor, which, if you have never been before, is quite frankly one of the most beautiful places in the UK. See?
|Source. It very definitely didn't look like this yesterday.|
As M hasn't visited me at home before, I decided she had to be introduced to Dartmoor properly- not from the window of a car, but by climbing up a mountain. I say mountain- in these here parts we call them tors, and my favourite one to clamber up is Cox Tor, on the outskirts of Tavistock.
|Again, not how it looked yesterday...|
What I hadn't taken into consideration was the fact that in Tavistock, it was pretty windy. Which meant that at the top of Cox Tor, 1450ft above sea level (so yes, definitely not a mountain), we were able to lean into the wind and be kept more-or-less upright, while the wind tangled our hair, reddened our cheeks, and nearly deafened us. Honestly- climbing up there in winds that high probably wasn't our brightest idea. I know the guy in charge of the Dartmoor Rescue Group, and to be honest, I'm sure he wouldn't have been best pleased at having to come and retrieve me and M if we'd got ourselves hurt.
But even still- it blew away every last red wine related cobweb, and gave us something to giggle about for the rest of the day. And I'm rarely happier than when I'm at the top of one of these tors, surveying my little kingdom.