1. Visited the Donkey Sanctuary
One of the top tourist attractions in Devon is the Donkey Sanctuary. My grandparents lived (now just my grandmother) in Sidford, a place ignored by the national media, but nonetheless a lovely little spot in East Devon. The River Sid runs through the village with a ford that you can drive through supplying the reason for the name: driving fast through a ford is pretty cool stuff. Next door to Sidford is the mouth of the river and the appropriately named Sidmouth and this is where the Donkey Sanctuary resides. It's free to get in and it smells pretty bad, but when I'm in town I am a compulsive visitor. I have visited it ever since I was a young child and it fills me with a warm nostalgic glow. There's not much to do other than look at the donkeys, but I am not the only one to love the place. Many locals leave huge bequests to the Sanctuary in their wills and a whole wall is covered with plaques in honour of these gifts. Such is the willingness of the Sid-residents to part with their cash that they recently received attention because the charitable giving coming their way was outnumbering the figures coming into huge charities such as Cancer Research UK. Donkeys surely don't need this kind of money, but I guess it demonstrates the warmth that many feel towards these braying beasts.
2. Run around Blackbury Camp pretending to be Friar Tuck
Blackbury Camp was another favourite location for my family. The place felt magical and like it belonged in a different era, and it did although the information board erected by English Heritage telling me these details was something that my eyes never paused upon. If I had I would have found out that the D-shaped earthy wall that I bounded around were the ramparts of an Iron Age fort. I imagined that I was Friar Tuck while my sister assumed the role of Maid Marian. The choice of Friar Tuck over Robin Hood may seem odd, but I never took chose the main character in role play games: I guess I didn't want my story to be already told for me. I felt that Tuck had stories that hadn't been told yet; it didn't matter that I had no idea what a friar was. I have to admit that I was a little disappointed when he turned out to be a fat drunk bloke in Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves.
3. Had a D-I-S-C-O in The Cowshed
The loyal local fan in me supports Brighton and Hove Albion; the glory-hunting child in me supported Liverpool and then there is a tiny place reserved in my heart for Exeter City. Every time I went to visit my grandparents, I checked to see if the Grecians were playing a home game, and if they were I took my place in The Cowshed, the most vocal section of the Exeter City crowd. Events on the pitch were rarely that exciting - the half-time race between two opposing fans was often the highlight of the afternoon - but you don't go to watch Division Three football because you're a lover of the beautiful game, but because you're a lover of singing yourself hoarse and jumping around with a bunch of strangers. My favourite Exeter chant was the 'Disco' one which started by spelling out the five-letter word followed by, "Lets all have a disco" while lots of sweaty blokes took part in an impromptu mosh-pit. The other great thing about Exeter was that they seemed to attract an odd selection of celebrities. I bumped into Uri Geller at one match in the club-shop - he was part of the board as was Michael Jackson, David Blaine and the bloke who played Darth Vader in Star Wars. They also, incredibly, played a pre-season friendly against the Brazilian national team in 2004, something no other club had done at the time. I still keep an eye on Exeter's results and am glad to see they have clambered themselves up to League One and currently sit just three points behind Brighton.
4. Lost to my granddad at tennis
My grandad on my mum's side is no longer alive, but while he was, he was man who didn't let age stop him from doing the things he loved. He stayed politically active and physically active well beyond retirement. Tennis was the sport that kept him going into his 80s. I knew that he played most days, but I still thought that I, an occasional player, would beat him reasonably comfortably. I was very wrong. He played a powerful and intelligent game that meant that I was sprinting around the court scrambling to return the ball while he took short sidesteps before wellying the ball beyond my reach. The final score was 0-6, 1-6, 0-6. I hope I can smash my grandson when I'm in my 80s, but I have my doubts.
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