Ancestry - Plymouth and Plympton

Wednesday May 23, 2012

Ancestry

Record office in Plymouth

 

I wanted to look for something my great-grandfather, John Stevens, had apparently written. To get to the Plymouth and West Devon Record Office I walked through the Barbican and crossed the swing bridge near the aquarium to the part of town known as Coxside.

The record office is in a non-descript building in an industrial looking area.

They had what I was looking for, as well as information I wasn't able to obtain back home.

It was a thrill for me to hold this record in my hands...

... and to see, presumably, my ancestor's handwriting.

Churchyard in Plympton

It was afternoon when I finished at the record office but there was still time to take a bus out to Plympton (a suburb of Plymouth about six miles from my hotel) where I was hoping to find an ancestor's headstone in St. Mary's churchyard. I believe it was my g-g-g-g-grandfather, John Stevens, and possibly his wife, Sarah (Lee) Stevens. I knew it would be like finding a needle in a haystack though because we had only a vague description of where it should be. Parts of the yard were quite rough and some stones were covered in ivy or branches, toppled over or just plain unreadable. I was unable to find what I was looking for.

I did find some family names which may have nothing to do with our family. I take photos of such stones anyway because ancestry research is probably never complete.

 I don't think these Stevens are related to me.

Luscombe is a name in our family. I don't know of these people being related but it's interesting that my great-aunt's name, Kate Winifred, was the reverse of the above.

More of Sidmouth

Sidmouth

Tuesday May 22, 2012

 

I'd heard something about a drive through river but didn't understand what it meant until I saw it.

I checked prices at the Elizabeth Hotel and also this place, Hunters Moon, and decided to stay put in Plymouth where the room rates were much better.

A 'yarn bomb.'

When I got to Devon with Mom she said I simply had to try a Devonshire ice cream cone with chocolate stick.

Salcombe Hill, Sidmouth

Sidmouth

Tuesday May 22, 2012

 

What luck to have beautiful weather for my day in this place that is so dear to me.

 

This is part of the 630 mile South West Coast Path, which runs 'from Minehead, Somerset to Poole, Dorset via Lands End.' I would love to walk a lot more of this path, especially from here to Lyme Regis.

I believe the route has been altered. Now, instead of walking between the red cliffs and the large back yards, you go along some residential streets before getting to to the path. Rocks that look like oyster shells are in the ground and are used in walls.

 Looking ahead.

Looking back.

Then, for me, the most amazing sight, bluebells! Bluebells were a big deal for me on this trip - I thought I'd missed them. To be in Mom's favourite place on her birthday, with bluebells... It was uncanny and glorious and very sad all at once. Mom and John are gone. Glenn is gone. I'm running around England, who knows why. But I'd like to stay here several days and come to this hillside every day.

I absolutely loved this walk.

Delightful Sidmouth, Devon

Sidmouth

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

 

It didn't occur to me until I was on the bus that morning that it was May 22. I'd lost track of time and wasn't sure of the date until I'd arrived in Sidmouth and checked a newspaper. So there I was in Mom's favourite place in England, on her birthday, revisting the place that she, her husband John, and I had visited back in 1989 (I think it was). Perfect.

A seven hour round trip by bus is not one I'd want to make often from Plymouth. Regardless, this ranked up with the wonderful day I spent in Addington.

 

I walked past people playing tennis straight out to the waterfront. Things didn't look much different after 23 years.

Back in the 1980's, Mom, John and I stayed in the somewhat quirky Elizabeth Hotel, the large white building shown above. Its restaurant was more elegant than I'd expected. On the beach I found a stone with a hole in it which John said was a lucky stone.

Several hotels line the street. 

The place has a relaxed, resort feel.

The chairs are rented out.
 

I'm anxious to walk up the hill at the far end, as I did on my last visit. It's one of my favourite memories.

The boats are still at the end of the beach.

 

I looked around to see if there was still a sign of the types of fish available. There was, athough maybe fewer than before but that could be due to the time of year. I was here in September before. 

 

The bridge I would cross to begin the walk up the hill. On my last visit, Mom and John sat at the bottom having a picnic. They were always patient in letting me run off to do whatever I wanted to do.