I’m done for tonight. I pray that our terrace will still be intact in the morning.

Amongst the photographs of the devastated sea wall I have added some photographs of Dawlish, taken on the eleventh of December – not even two months ago.

I just spoke to Chris over the telephone and I’m horrified to report that OUR terrace is the last line of defence against the sea now that a huge hole has opened up on the road at sea level. The tide is out at present and there are throngs of engineers and workmen swarming around the hole that edges the foundations of Riviera Terrace.

My friend, Jo, and her family have been evacuated; also Bob and Anne, and June; they are our neighbours – just a two minute walk down the cliff path from our seaside entrance.

There are more storms forecast for Friday. Chris says that we’ll be alright at San Remo – the sea wall is still in place – but I want to cry…

The photographs have just come in. I am crying….

Over to Chris…

Just seen your blog, so maybe you’re still up and about; quick update
newsflash – the breach in the sea wall is so serious that the sea has
“eaten up” the road right up to the front doors of Sea Lawn Terrace (just down from our terrace).

Both terraces (Sea Lawn and Riviera) have been completely evacuated, and the police are not allowing anyone down there.  Engineers are worried about an imminent collapse of that part of the terrace, oh its all a bit concerning.  Of
course, we’re alright up here, but it seems we’re the remaining front
line at San Remo – Coastguards (up the road but lower in the cliff) has been evacuated as well!

So our “hole” is now international news, apparently. I’ve had phone calls from
all over, even my cousin Jean, to see if we’re alright – rather
touching.  Anyway Geoff rang me a minute ago to say they were at
Sainsbury’s and would I like them to pop in for some moral support?  I
expect they’ll be here any minute, so I’ll call off now, my love.

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Oh dear!

It was the worst of times, it was the best of times, it was the age of strangeness all round.  Would it be altogether too flippant of me, while the weather rampages my home town of Dawlish, to tell you a nice little secret about my temporary home in Australia? Chris and all my family, neighbours and friends back home are safe and well, if disconcerted about the freakish weather and its consequences, like the railway line hanging in mid air (as described by Chris in my previous blog post); perhaps it is good to brighten the mood with a little levity.

“Help yourself to anything in the cupboards and everything in the fridge and freezer,” Sue had said emphatically before leaving on her interstate caravanning adventure with Glenn, “Things will go to waste if you don’t use them.”

At least an hour had passed since their departure before I checked out the fridge and took a fleeting glance in the pantry.

“One or each of them is a ‘sweet tooth'”, I thought to myself as I noticed, amongst all the condiments, dressings and healthy tidbits, there were four chocolate Matchsticks on a plastic tray and an almost finished bar of chocolate caramel (which I sampled despite not really being a fan of milk chocolate).

On a different shelf on the other side of the fridge were two packets of opened – not quite finished – biscuits; Lemon Crisps and chocolate shortcake triangles – none of which are my favourites (and anyway, I don’t eat biscuits because I am always on a diet).

“Sue and Glenn are always on a diet, like you,” my old friend Roland had told me.

Towards the end of my first day I had sampled the Lemon Crisp biscuits and, surprisingly, found the salty sweetness quite to my taste. By the end of my second day, on account of all the energy I had expended whilst cycling and swimming, the Matchsticks disappeared completely (apart from the unopened packet underneath the opened packet) and I was happy to be rid of the temptation every time I opened the fridge – after all, I am on a diet.

Today was my third day, a day of arduous hoovering (the suction is terrific and terrifying!), and it was overcast; in fact, I was going to take my bike out but it rained and I did a bit more housework instead. In between wiping down worktops I occasionally found myself in the fridge again, and the last few squares of chocolate caramel went the same way as the Matchsticks. Once again, I was thoroughly pleased to be rid of temptation (even though I don’t care for milk chocolate). Truth to tell, the milk chocolate shortcake triangles weren’t as bad as I anticipated either (but there are still some left… probably for tomorrow).

Come dinner time I was not particularly hungry, strangely enough, however I thought I had better concoct a light meal for myself to curb any hunger pangs later on (otherwise I might go mad and eat the wrong things). I went to the pantry in search of inspiration. On the highest shelf was a glass cannister containing pasta shells and twists.

“I know,” I thought, “I’ll cook up some pasta shells with diced tomatoes and onions, nice and healthy.”

As I took down the jar, another larger glass cannister was revealed – it was filled to the brim with individually wrapped chocolates of all descriptions. Horrified, I returned the pasta jar to its position as soon as possible.

My dinner was rather bland, fat-less, sugarless and unappetising (in spite of all the herbs and seasoning), which is a shame because there is enough left for lunch tomorrow. Tomorrow will be the day I start my diet in earnest, honestly; those biscuits are going into the bin right now. I don’t even have a sweet tooth and I hate milk chocolate…. It’s funny how  I am always on diet – just like Sue and Glenn, according to Roland.

Just to add a bit to your (my!) blog, now that it’s daylight, I can
clearly see the damage below Riviera Terrace; it wasn’t overstating the
case to say the sea wall had been “ripped away! – it has simply
disappeared, leaving the railway lines actually hanging in mid air, like
you see in the movies, when the train has to inch its way gingerly
across just the rails, to the accompaniment of much creaking and
terrifying lurching!  And right below our house, the wall between the
railway line and the pedestrian part of the sea wall  has been
destroyed, and lies in lumps all over the track. Utter devastation!  I
guess it’ll takes weeks to rebuild everything.  Might sadly be the final
death-knell for our railway and sea wall!

Love you my mermaid; actually, it would be quite useful to be a mermaid
here at the moment!

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(So glad to note that my husband actually reads my blog!)

Chris’s email to me says it all….

NEWS FROM DAWLISH (my home):

Just to bring you up to date, it’s DAWLISH, specifically, hitting the National News this morning; there was great damage done by the storm last night, just as I thought. The town is cut off by road from Teignmouth (our neighbouring town) due to a fallen tree, but far worse than that, about 30 metres of sea wall down by Riviera Terrace, I believe, has been “ripped away” , to quote the local Spotlight news just now.  They had a reporter in his wellies speaking from under the arches at the station, where a section of platform has been washed away(!), and there’s damage all around.  Residents of Marine Parade were evacuated last night to the Leisure Centre (don’t think I’ll bother with the gym this morning!) when up to three feet of sea water came across the track and the road, and into their homes. This morning’s storm, which promises to be pretty well as bad as last night’s (95 mph reported in some places), is in the process of building right now, and, with high tide just an hour-and-a-half away, it’s all hands to the pump and red alert all round. I expect poor old Rob (my fireman, paramedic and piano-tuner brother) is pretty busy right now!

I’ll try to get some photos for you, but its not yet fully light, and, with the rain lashing down and the wind building upwards of 60 mph, I don’t feel that inclined to put my head over the parapet just yet! I may be able to get some shots from our house, of course, but the Environment Agency have apparently issued, for the first time, a “Danger to Life” warning  for all West Country coastal areas, so I guess the Sea Wall isn’t beckoning that strongly right now!

Anyway, just thought you’d like to hear the weather update; I see Geoff (our brother-in-law) posted a similar report on Facebook, replied to instantly by Lorelle (my old school friend in Australia)!  Anyway, at least I’m safe and snug here in the bastion of San Remo, and you begin to appreciate the great solidity of Victorian buildings like this when under severe meteorological attack. Poor Mary (my beloved sister) was so worried about me being on my own last night, but, as I told her, I’m probably in the safest building in Dawlish!

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I hope so! Isn’t Chris a dear for writing my blog for me?

It has never been heard of before (not in my tenure, anyway) – back home in Dawlish, Devon, the waves are crashing into the sea wall, flying high over the railway line and hitting all our windows, including the upper storeys (our house is on four levels). And the terrace is built into and above a cliff! Thank goodness we have double-glazing nowadays. I wonder how the old sash windows would have fared?

Apparently the section of the sea wall below our house is  being shown constantly on the news at home, and people keep phoning Chris (my husband, in case you are a newcomer to my blog) to find out if our house is still there. The Victorians knew how to build sturdy houses and the terrace is like a huge fortress fending off all that the weather throws at it. Not a drop of water has infiltrated; nevertheless, Chris says it is very exciting, if not frightening.

The same cannot be said for the sea wall, which is down in some places; or the brook and town centre, which is flooded; or some of the other houses in our pretty seaside town. Marine Parade, running parallel to the beach on the other side of the wall and railway line, is being evacuated. The trains have not been running for days and will perhaps be unable to start a service again for another week – the lines are covered in rocks and gravel!

Chris sent me this photograph that he took yesterday, when the waves were much lower. Unfortunately, the giant waves are at their height right now, at night, so no chance of even more impressive photographs. And to think that I’m so far away, on the other side of the world, enjoying the benefits of sunshine and gracious living (which I will tell you about in my next blog).

It was a little overcast when I set out on my bicycle this morning, there was even a shower as I closed the gates (electronically!) on my new abode; of course, it was nothing like the weather they have been having in England ever since I left (Chris told me yesterday that the spume from the recent – bigger than ever – waves, aided by ninety mile an hour winds, have been hitting our bay windows, approximately one hundred feet above sea level!). As for me, I just got a bit damp from a short cloudburst – no need for me to turn back – and I was dry by the time I reached my destination.

Actually, it would have been of no consequence to me whether or not I was wet or dry because my journey’s end was a swimming pool. The owners, daughters of my old friend Roland, were at work…

“Just let yourself in by the side gate, any time,” they had invited.

I hope they really meant it because that is exactly what I did. Their house is not far from their Aunty and Uncle’s (my place!), but it is at the top of the only hill to speak of around here, so I was hot upon arrival and eager to melt into the pool. A cursory check of the doors informed me that nobody was at home and the pool was to be for my pleasure alone – perfect. No neighbours were in evidence and the sun came out for me – bliss! Well, what can you expect of a mermaid?

“Come and I’ll show you how to work the dishwasher,” Sue said.

(This was last night, before the big day of their departure southbound with an enormous caravan in tow. You may be aware that I’m house-sitting for Sue and Glenn while they are away.)

Now I am a respectful person and usually do as asked by my hosts so I joined Sue at the modern sink-island (if that is what it is called).

“To be honest with you, Sue, I doubt if I will ever use the dishwasher, not with me here all alone. We don’t even use our one at home – whenever I suggest it, Chris says that he will wash-up instead,” I said. (I considered adding, “I’m not that lazy, anyway,” but thought better of it.)

“Oh I use it even when Glenn is working away,” Sue, (who is obviously not of the “old school” of thinking that laziness is a sin), responded in a refreshingly guilt-free manner.

I was glad that I had decided against mentioning the “lazy” word and took note of Sue’s instructions with renewed interest. In fact, my temporary new home has two dishwashers; the bigger one sits above the smaller one, thus no bending is involved in filling the machine on top. (Ours in England opens at floor level – a great deal of bending.)

“I always use the big one,” she said, “unless we have parties, in which case we use both!”

“But I wouldn’t use enough things in a single day to warrant putting on the dishwasher,” I argued half-heartedly.

“Neither do I,” Sue smiled enticingly, “it goes on when it is full, perhaps every two or three days.”

“You have that much crockery and cutlery?” I queried.

Sue acquiesced. Her grin suggested a certain pleasure was to be taken from using the dishwasher as a matter of course, regardless of the infrequency due to a dearth of dirty dishes.

All on my own after my breakfast this morning, I was about to wash up my cereal bowl and cup in the sink when, out of interest, I took a peek in the dishwasher. The drawer slid back very smoothly (and no bending) and I saw the breakfast dishes used earlier by Glenn and Sue. It would have been churlish not to send my own cereal bowl in with them. At lunchtime, and dinnertime too, my plates, cutlery, glasses and cups slipped in alongside the other malingerers. Just minutes ago I added another cup. The not-so-great unwashed all seemed quite at home in the nice neat dishwasher drawer; they do not smell, and there is still plenty of room… for tomorrow’s offerings.

Actually, it’s not my hat – I bought it for Chris – but I have, nevertheless, hung it up all over my new home (where I am house-sitting), as can see from the photographs…

Sue and Glenn set off on their caravanning adventure this morning and now I’m all alone, and ready to begin work on my new books. Bliss!

Incidentally, one of the neighbours called in to say goodbye to Sue and Glenn this morning – he is a tall handsome pilot. Not that I’m interested in anyone else but Chris, and he’s married and too young anyway. Still… how pleasant it is to have nice neighbours.