After yesterday’s antique shopping adventure, today was all about discovering why this stretch of Devon proudly calls itself The English Riviera. Spoiler alert: by the end of the day I completely understood the hype… although the roads very nearly undid me.
Good Morning, Riviera!
We were up bright and early, leaving Ramslade Club Campsite around 8:30am. One advantage of getting moving early? Marks & Spencer Foodhall opens before most of the other shops. Priorities are important after all! A quick browse and a few supplies later, we pointed the motorhome towards Torquay.
It took around forty minutes to get there, although we quickly discovered that “early” still coincided with the school run. Apparently everyone else had somewhere urgent to be.
Me? I had all day.
The first stop was the colourful stretch of coastline known as The English Riviera. I’d heard the name before but never really knew what it referred to. It stretches along the South Devon coast from just south of Maidencombe all the way down towards Brixham, and on a warm summer’s day it genuinely feels like a little slice of the Mediterranean… if you ignore the British accents.
The weather had cooled ever so slightly compared with the previous few days, making it far more comfortable for exploring.
Cliff Roads, Colourful Houses & Harbour Views
We followed the spectacular coastal road through Babbacombe, winding along the clifftops past some absolutely stunning houses with panoramic sea views. Every corner seemed to reveal another postcard-worthy scene.
Torquay itself had exactly the holiday atmosphere I’d imagined.
Colourful Victorian houses lined the waterfront, boats bobbed around in the harbour waiting for the tide to return, cafés spilled out onto the promenade and everywhere felt alive with that classic British seaside energy.
I could absolutely see why generations of families have holidayed here.
Dear Whoever Designed These Roads…
Now…
Let’s talk about driving.
The roads around Torquay weren’t really designed with a 7.4-metre motorhome that’s nearly 3 metres high in mind.
At one particularly awkward junction I found myself nose-to-nose with a bus.
Behind me? A growing queue.
Behind him? Another growing queue.
Cue ten minutes of both of us performing what can only be described as a very slow, slightly stressful game of automotive ballet while everyone else waited patiently (well… mostly).
Eventually we managed to squeeze past each other with what felt like mere millimetres to spare.
Mum aged approximately ten years, me kinda fun with a bit of stress thrown in....needless there are no photos of this ballet dance.
Paignton & Brixham
We continued through Paignton, finding somewhere long enough to park the motorhome near the harbour.
While wandering around we watched a group practising life-saving drills at the harbour entrance, which was fascinating to watch.
From there we continued on towards Brixham, although by this stage I’d definitely reached my daily quota of narrow roads, parked cars and traffic. We didn’t stay long, instead deciding there was something far more important calling my name…
The Devonshire Tea Mission ☕
The final destination for the day was Cockington Village, where we’d heard wonderful things about Weavers Cottage Tea Garden.
It absolutely lived up to the hype.
Tucked amongst thatched cottages and one of the prettiest villages we’ve visited so far, it felt like stepping into a storybook.
The star of the afternoon?
A freshly baked scone served with raspberry jam and an enormous helping of clotted cream, accompanied by a delicious strawberry milkshake.
Devonshire tea achieved.
Mission accomplished.
(Yes… before anyone asks… I did cream first. We were in Devon after all.)
Time To Move On
With happy stomachs and slightly calmer nerves, we headed back to the campsite to pack up.
Tomorrow we’d be saying goodbye to Devon and heading for our next stop…
Weymouth, here we come! 🚐
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