To Dartmoor, randomly.

Despite the terrible weather promised inevitably by a British Bank Holiday, I had agreed to meet my mother at Two Bridges.  To Two Bridges we went, therefore, and were greeted, to the joy of the hounds, by the return of blue skies.    And Rosie got some left-over scone while we were drinking tea at the Two Bridges hotel, which pleased her.

I keep forgetting how close Dartmoor is.  I must make the effort to drive the extra 10 minutes or so more often.
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