Old Plastic Stuff

For two days we have dodged the rain. Here's what the view from the sight looks like when the weather is behaving. Yesterday we went inland and visited Montecute House, a National Trust Elizabethan Manor, and we spent the day in the house and wandering round the gardens with the sun shining and no hint of the biblical deluge that was ravaging the rest of the country.

Today we have stayed local because its laundry day. There's a tatty but serviceable coin-op in Willeton village and this served us well.

The other attraction in Willeton is the Bakelite Museum. It sounds a bit dubious, and I do have an aversion against privately owned seaside museums where the aim is often to lure tourists in from the rain for less than five minutes of marginal entertainment, but at great cost. The Bakelite Museum wasn't like that at all. It was a gem. No labels on most of the stuff so you make your own mind up, but the place was packed with fascinating tat from the past. I had no idea Bakelite was ever so versatile. Trouble is, though, I remembered a lot of it, especially the old hoovers like the one my Nan had, which lurked in a dark corner under the stairs and provided me with hours of childhood recurring nightmares. Maybe they will recur again. Maybe I will wake in the night screaming that Hoover is back, and its out to get me. Time for a cuppa, I think.

So we end up in Watchet, drinking tea. Watchet is nice enough. There's a cracking museum. Another museum. This one is free and it's full of fossils and old axe haeds and although its small it is really interesting.

And then, at four thirty, we both have the same idea. The field is dry and mud free. We've seen Somerset. Time to move on. We're hooked up and on the road again by five and heading for Weymouth in Dorset. Never been to Weymouth before. I hope we've made the right decision.