Poetry and imposter syndrome

I had a busy week last week. On impulse, I booked a poetry course several months ago, despite having only ever written a handful of poems in my life. So it was with some trepidation that I set off for the Arvon centre in Totleigh Barton, in deepest, darkest Devon.

Indeed, it was so deep and so dark, there was no internet, and you had to walk half a mile up the track to get a phone signal; as you can see, that was no hardship given the fabulous scenery.

Despite misgivings about being there at all, I had a ball. The tutors were fabulous, and the other students were a joy to spend five days with. I had my birthday midweek, and the group bursting out into Happy Birthday over supper was one of many highlights.

A room with a view

In one of the moments when we weren’t all holed up in our rooms writing poetry, I had an interesting chat with a couple of the other students about imposter syndrome. How so many of us feel we have no right to be doing what we’re doing, or pursuing our goals, whether at work or in our leisure activities. I could really relate to that – although I’ve got a handful of novels under my belt, I felt a complete beginner when it came to poetry.

Back in the land of dreaming spires

Been off on my travels again, this time up to Oxford to attend an open gaudy (reunion) at Hertford College, my first trip back in… *cough*… a number of years. Had a great time – lovely food, plenty of wine, and a chance to catch up with some old friends.

I am actually in this pic, just the back of my head, to the left of the man in specs pouring the wine.

A picture of the old quad with no one in it.

The staircase leading up to the dining hall.

Hertford College with its Bridge of Sighs. Whenever anyone says they’ve never heard of the college I mention the bridge –  Morse was always driving under it in the TV series.

The Hertford College crest, as seen on the graduate centre on the Abingdon Road.

Magpie Lane, leading from the High Street to Merton Field and the spookily named Dead Man’s Walk.

Geese on the walk round Christ Church Meadow.

Sometimes I could do with one of these to rest my own weary limbs.

Looking back across Christchurch meadow.

Ducks taking a nap by the Cherwell.

Looking back from Head of the River.

Catte Street looking towards Radcliffe Camera – once my local stomping ground.

Radcliffe Camera, part of the Bodleian library. When I wasn’t writing essays in my room, I was buried in books in there.

Just across the road from Hertford was Blackwell, my nearest bookshop. So one of the highlights of this trip was to go in and find a couple of my books on the top shelf. Something I could never ever have imagined back when I was a student!

Five have fun in North Devon

Just back from a bit of a mini break up to Croyde and Woolacombe in North Devon. Our second outing in the caravan, and only three nights, but a lot of fun. We were lucky with the weather, pretty much blue skies most of the time we were out and about.

fun-on-woolacombe-sands

We kicked off with a visit to Woolacombe beach – as you can see it went down a storm with our terriers, who seem to turn into lunatics as soon as their feet hit the sand.

woolacombe-beach

It was a blustery day. Lots of surfers making use of the waves, but the dogs, being low to the ground, had quite a lot of blown sand to contend with. Still, they didn’t seem to mind.

barricane-beach-cafe

We had a couple of visits to the lovely beach cafe on Barricane Beach (not sure why they disagree with my spelling!). Ate one of their famous curries, and the next day returned for a cream tea. The gluttony!

sculpture-on-barricane-beach

I tried my hand at a bit of beach sculpture while we waited for the curry to be served.

sheep-at-mortehoe

Next day we went for a walk in Mortehoe, and saw lots of these. Stan and Cyril were definitely on leads, but Ms Perkins’s days of chasing anything are long past.

morte-point

Enjoyed a stunning walk round to Morte Point. You can just see Lundy on the horizon.

walking-round-morte-point

Met a few people on the South West Coast Path, all hoping to spot the seals that inhabit the inlets. Sadly we didn’t see any, but the views more than made up for it.

south-west-coast-path-towards-ifracombe

Amazing views north towards Ifracombe.

saunton-sand-dunes

We rounded off the trip with a walk through the dunes and along Saunton Sands. Followed by another cream tea at the fabulous Sandleigh Tea Rooms at Baggy Point – well, we were on holiday! – before the two-hour drive back to the south Devon coast.