Family funeral and more

We breakfasted in style with Ann this morning, checked out and took the local train which runs south west along the Exe valley to the sea coast. The valley opens out into a mile wide estuary and the line hugs the shore as far as the Teign estuary before turning inland. Called the Riviera Line, it's an amazing scenic route with dark red sandstone cliffs, and beaches whose sand colour varies from pale gold to pink.

We'd sometimes travel this way to reach Torquay or Paignton for Miners' Fortnight family holidays when I was a child, but only a couple of times in the fifty five years since I left home. It reminds me a little of the Mediterraneo line journey from Barcelona to Vinaros, which I've done a few more times in recent years.

Dawlish is a lovely small town set in a coastal valley, which has evolved around holiday-makers. A park with a stream runs inland through the town centre. The town is famous for its black swans, and this area generally sees an interesting number of migratory bird species.

St Gregory's Parish church is a mile inland from the station. It's a beautiful building dating back to the 14th century. The westermost bay of its nave has been partitioned off with a glass wall into an upper room with kitchen for meetings, and a ground floor narthex with office space, very nicely done. 

Daphne's children Nick and Caroline welcomed the congregation to a reception there after a service in which both paid tributes to their mother. She would have been proud of them. About two dozen of us attended. Daphne moved away from here into sheltered accommodation over ten years ago, and being 89, few of her resident contemporaries would still be around and active. The priest was a retired cleric living locally, covering as I do for the two parish clergy, away at a training event.

Talking of this, Emma emailed me to ask if I could cover her for two funerals this coming Monday as she has been forced by an painful injury to stop work. This meant making a succession of phone calls after breakfast to next of kin and funeral directors to explain the situation, but it was soon done, with pastoral visits booked for tomorrow.

After the reception, family members retired to a nearby pub for a drink and a toast to Daphne's memory, then at five our three hour return trip to Cardiff started, with Ann accompanying us for a weekend stay. It meant we could relax and continue reminiscing over a welcome bottle of good Tempranillo before turning in after a long day, charged with beauty and sadness. My photos of the day are here