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The last few days we have been down in Devon to attend the third installment of Furcation, our first ever, and ultimately it was a rather chilled weekend. This was just as well as I had foolishly decided to do a half day of work before the drive south, only for everything to overrun and us not setting off until 2:30pm. With check in closing at 10pm, this didn't give us an awful lot of leeway on the six and a half hour drive, which was only made longer by hitting Birmingham in rush hour and the horrendous storm that the British Isles was enduring. We also had to do a detour via Barnstaple to get some money and supplies, but we still managed to limp into the holiday park shortly after 9:15pm. Alas, the weather was still atrocious, meaning we traipsed a load of mud into our gold chalet as we decanted our myriad of things inside, but by 10pm we were all good to go and soon in the club house drinking and socialising, after which we picked up our excellent doorsign from Gothicat with a robber Lupe all clad in pink.
I had never stayed in a holiday park before so it was a completely new experience for me. While I admit that some of it was a bit naff - particularly the karaoke and music quiz on the Monday evening for the regular patrons once the vast number of furs had left - I was left quite impressed by the quality of accommodation and the value for money. Yes, it was a little rough around the edges, with our front window unable to close and chips missing out of the plaster, but our chalet was very much like a miniature house and provided a great base from which to enjoy the con. With its own private beach, more rock than sand, down at the bottom of the complex - a place we explored on Saturday and then again on Sunday with Lunar Belle - it was certainly a relaxing place and it was a pleasure to see the sea view from our chalet upon dawn arriving on the Saturday. Alas, the main fear I had was that the weather was so bad it meant little socialising outside, and with the clubhouse being somewhat small for 330 furs, it did prove difficult to just randomly bump into people. The main disco also being in the bar area also meant space was at a premium inside but thank God for Telegram and the opportunity to go to room parties in a number of caravans and chalets.
We spent most of our time with Gothi's crew (Friday, Sunday and Monday evenings) and Lunar Belle/Zuki (Saturday) with me being on particular comedic form on both the Friday and the Monday. This wasn't to say we spent all of our time here though, with both Bishop and Hannah, who we had met at Gothi's on the Sunday, coming around for a three hour soujorn in our chalet on Monday afternoon. We also got to meet a number of other people too, many of whom we had not seen for a number of years. In terms of parties - well we had a rubber theme one where I got to wear a horse gas mask for a couple of hours, which made me rather supplicant and submissive, while we also had a strip Cards Against Humanity party which turned into a very interesting evening for a myriad of different reasons. I was quite surprised with how relaxed I was by this - even a year ago, I probably wouldn't have gone to such an event due to body issues, but this time around I was positively relishing it and wasn't too perturbed when I ended up getting naked surprisingly quickly. This was my default state for the next three hours and it was amazing to think just how confident I have become with my body, despite it's huge flaws. Indeed, it was only a couple of our party getting drunk - with one being particularly beligerant, which forced my clothes back on as we had to escort him back to his bed. Poor Wolfie ended up picking up most of the pieces here and it was just as well that he was largely sober on account of him being unable to move his on call rota for the weekend.
Fursuiting, as usual, took something of a backseat although this was largely due to the inclement weather. I did manage to suit for the group photo at 4pm, where I met another cool fursuiter, with whom I accompanied back to his caravan. He then spent the next hour grooming my fur in fursuit as we talked about a range of things, with him imploring me to contact him should I ever decide to sell my suit. This was quite flattering as no-one has loved my suit this much before, while I was also delighted with the number of positive comments I got while wearing female clothing. I find this quite liberating as I don't really get opportunity to do this in my day-to-day existance, so people saying nice things was a huge confidence boost, as was the myriad of different comments about my age, with many people believing me to be ten years younger than I actually am. After the group photo, Zuki and I performed a bit in front of the StrEAT Pizza caravan, which was brought in to the convention on Saturday and Sunday as another food alternative. This was delicious and I got speaking to the proprietors on the Sunday evening, who said they were delighted with the uptake their pizzas had received. In the end, they ended up selling out, which was great to see while it was also good to have an alternative to the low quality yet pleasing food served by the holiday park. The burgers were generally okay, but they had run out of these by Monday night and so we had a hot dog instead which generally disagreed with me. It also took over an hour to come, meaning we were stuck with the limp entertainment from the staff. There weren't enough interested people to do the bingo and the aforementioned music quiz broke halfway through, meaning it became a situation of lyric recital. They also admitted that this week was peak off-season and to be fair there were very few people staying on Monday evening once the majority of furs had gone.
While being in the South-West, we did take the opportunity to see a number of sights namely Barnstaple, Ilfracombe and Lynton/Lynmouth. All three of these places are defined by the sea upon which they sit, with the former being a sizeable market town. We snuck into Barnstaple Railway Station thinking there was a heritage railway there but alas it was just one modern platform with a very sparse service. Still, a gentleman cleaner let us go to the bathroom as we only wanted to use the urinals as he was cleaning the main toilet. Barnstaple sits on a small estuary, which we crossed on the way to the town proper. At its entrance there sits the Albert Clock, built in 1862 in memory of Prince Albert who died the previous year. It was restored in 2009 with Heritage Lottery Funding, when a rather odd plaque was laid talking about each clock face having a different time, which surely would be confusing. There was very little else of interest in Barnstaple - it's market is quite long, wrought iron ceilings and long brick facades, with Union Flag bunting adorning the ceiling. Down the narrow alleyway there is a range of different flags, from weird countries like Costa Rica and Panama alongside more standard ones. I have no idea whether this signifies anything, but it was odd. The theatre in Barnstaple is also a delight, as was the spectacularly named Gammon Walk with its logo being something rather akin to Jacob Rees-Mogg. We also enjoyed a Cornish pasty from a local bakery as we promenaded around the town.
We visited Ilfracombe on Monday. We had intended to go on Sunday but I had wanted to do some fursuiting and Viper, to whom we had promised a lift tot he station, ended up staying overnight anyway. We had driven through Ilfracombe as we headed back from Barnstaple and thought it worth a visit, which proved to be the case as we spent a pleasureable couple of hours here. Its theatre, the Landmark Theatre, was based very much on the cooling tower design and its concrete nipples looked rather out of place amongst the well-to-do Victorian buildings. In the background was the sea, with a huge rocky outcrop upon which there was perched a lighthouse. We didn't see the point of climbing up here, but we did go into the modest museum, which turned out to contain eight rooms of varying quality. This pleasant cream and purple building was built in 1885 and was once the laundry of the magnificent Ilfracombe Hotel, which is now where the Landmark Theatre sits. The highlight was undoubtedly the history of the town - which sent more soldiers to France in the fifteenth century than the whole of Liverpool - along with the exhibition dedicated to the local soldiers who fought in World War One. Indeed, a local headmaster encouraged his children to write to the men on the frontline and these letters, and the responses, form part of this rather moving exhibition. The letters from the soldiers treat the war as if it were a football game, such was the target audience, and accompanied with photographs of every man who went over to France to fight, there was a great poignancy to this room. The same was the case concerning the railway history of the town, with its train service axed in the Beeching era. The other rooms, however, were less interesting as they contained a number of stuffed animals (including a few horrendous thick snakes), a brass rubbing section, an old style kitchen and a range of dress from throughout the ages.
After we had been here, we decided to walk towards the harbour, spying a number of quaint shops as we strolled. Soon enough, we noticed the signs advertising trips to the island of Lunday and spied a number of beached yachts trapped within a manmade prison. The tide here comes in and out twice a day and when its out, the boats are effectively beached, which made for quite the sight. There were a number of shops lining the harbour wall and it was at one of them where we picked up our second local pasty of the trip, a lamb and mint, which was more Cornish than Devon unfortunately. Still, it was tasty and a pleasure walking by the sea, even if the wind was somewhat cold. At the end of the harbour there stands a rather amazing stainless steel and bronze statue created by the artist Damien Hirst. Entitled 'Verity', this pregnant lady carrying the scales of justice while standing on a tower of law books has been loaned to the town for the next twenty years and forms an imposing entrance to the harbour. Before its erection, it was wind tested to ensure it could withstand the elements here, while interestingly when it was constructed in 2012 - out of forty steel pieces - it was the tallest statue in the UK, surpassing The Angel of the North by ten inches. The statue was not without controversy when it was built but I rather like it for its boldness, along with her wistfully looking out towards Port Talbot for some reason.
Across the car park from here, there is a small church situated upon a hill, which also performed the role of a lighthouse. We decided to climb up it, partly to get the stunning views of the jagged cliffs and the churning sea and partly because the church itself looked interesting. It didn't take us long to discover its history and about the family who called this place home, before we descended back to the harbour and headed back to the car, checking out the rather dull high street in Ilfracombe as we did.
Our final stop of the day was the village of Combe Martin, just down the road from the John Fowler Holiday Park where we were staying. We could have walked here from the park in all honesty, but as we had the car with us, we thought we would drive. After parking up, it only took us about fifteen minutes to have a look around, with just two pubs, a shop and a garage of any real note. We did drop into the tourist information place to get more information on Exmoor sights and we were met by four volunteers who clearly wanted us to stay longer than the five minutes we afforded here. There was a small village museum but after the one in Ilfracombe, we didn't fancy another provinicial affair, but the staff here were all really nice and very helpful. After that, we just headed back to the Park really. We spotted Seadragom and Cosmo walking by the beach and said hi but with little else to do here and no Devon ales to sample in either of the two bars, we decided to meet up with our friends once again and continue our shenanigans. Indeed, this was very much the story of a great weekend.
I had never stayed in a holiday park before so it was a completely new experience for me. While I admit that some of it was a bit naff - particularly the karaoke and music quiz on the Monday evening for the regular patrons once the vast number of furs had left - I was left quite impressed by the quality of accommodation and the value for money. Yes, it was a little rough around the edges, with our front window unable to close and chips missing out of the plaster, but our chalet was very much like a miniature house and provided a great base from which to enjoy the con. With its own private beach, more rock than sand, down at the bottom of the complex - a place we explored on Saturday and then again on Sunday with Lunar Belle - it was certainly a relaxing place and it was a pleasure to see the sea view from our chalet upon dawn arriving on the Saturday. Alas, the main fear I had was that the weather was so bad it meant little socialising outside, and with the clubhouse being somewhat small for 330 furs, it did prove difficult to just randomly bump into people. The main disco also being in the bar area also meant space was at a premium inside but thank God for Telegram and the opportunity to go to room parties in a number of caravans and chalets.
We spent most of our time with Gothi's crew (Friday, Sunday and Monday evenings) and Lunar Belle/Zuki (Saturday) with me being on particular comedic form on both the Friday and the Monday. This wasn't to say we spent all of our time here though, with both Bishop and Hannah, who we had met at Gothi's on the Sunday, coming around for a three hour soujorn in our chalet on Monday afternoon. We also got to meet a number of other people too, many of whom we had not seen for a number of years. In terms of parties - well we had a rubber theme one where I got to wear a horse gas mask for a couple of hours, which made me rather supplicant and submissive, while we also had a strip Cards Against Humanity party which turned into a very interesting evening for a myriad of different reasons. I was quite surprised with how relaxed I was by this - even a year ago, I probably wouldn't have gone to such an event due to body issues, but this time around I was positively relishing it and wasn't too perturbed when I ended up getting naked surprisingly quickly. This was my default state for the next three hours and it was amazing to think just how confident I have become with my body, despite it's huge flaws. Indeed, it was only a couple of our party getting drunk - with one being particularly beligerant, which forced my clothes back on as we had to escort him back to his bed. Poor Wolfie ended up picking up most of the pieces here and it was just as well that he was largely sober on account of him being unable to move his on call rota for the weekend.
Fursuiting, as usual, took something of a backseat although this was largely due to the inclement weather. I did manage to suit for the group photo at 4pm, where I met another cool fursuiter, with whom I accompanied back to his caravan. He then spent the next hour grooming my fur in fursuit as we talked about a range of things, with him imploring me to contact him should I ever decide to sell my suit. This was quite flattering as no-one has loved my suit this much before, while I was also delighted with the number of positive comments I got while wearing female clothing. I find this quite liberating as I don't really get opportunity to do this in my day-to-day existance, so people saying nice things was a huge confidence boost, as was the myriad of different comments about my age, with many people believing me to be ten years younger than I actually am. After the group photo, Zuki and I performed a bit in front of the StrEAT Pizza caravan, which was brought in to the convention on Saturday and Sunday as another food alternative. This was delicious and I got speaking to the proprietors on the Sunday evening, who said they were delighted with the uptake their pizzas had received. In the end, they ended up selling out, which was great to see while it was also good to have an alternative to the low quality yet pleasing food served by the holiday park. The burgers were generally okay, but they had run out of these by Monday night and so we had a hot dog instead which generally disagreed with me. It also took over an hour to come, meaning we were stuck with the limp entertainment from the staff. There weren't enough interested people to do the bingo and the aforementioned music quiz broke halfway through, meaning it became a situation of lyric recital. They also admitted that this week was peak off-season and to be fair there were very few people staying on Monday evening once the majority of furs had gone.
While being in the South-West, we did take the opportunity to see a number of sights namely Barnstaple, Ilfracombe and Lynton/Lynmouth. All three of these places are defined by the sea upon which they sit, with the former being a sizeable market town. We snuck into Barnstaple Railway Station thinking there was a heritage railway there but alas it was just one modern platform with a very sparse service. Still, a gentleman cleaner let us go to the bathroom as we only wanted to use the urinals as he was cleaning the main toilet. Barnstaple sits on a small estuary, which we crossed on the way to the town proper. At its entrance there sits the Albert Clock, built in 1862 in memory of Prince Albert who died the previous year. It was restored in 2009 with Heritage Lottery Funding, when a rather odd plaque was laid talking about each clock face having a different time, which surely would be confusing. There was very little else of interest in Barnstaple - it's market is quite long, wrought iron ceilings and long brick facades, with Union Flag bunting adorning the ceiling. Down the narrow alleyway there is a range of different flags, from weird countries like Costa Rica and Panama alongside more standard ones. I have no idea whether this signifies anything, but it was odd. The theatre in Barnstaple is also a delight, as was the spectacularly named Gammon Walk with its logo being something rather akin to Jacob Rees-Mogg. We also enjoyed a Cornish pasty from a local bakery as we promenaded around the town.
We visited Ilfracombe on Monday. We had intended to go on Sunday but I had wanted to do some fursuiting and Viper, to whom we had promised a lift tot he station, ended up staying overnight anyway. We had driven through Ilfracombe as we headed back from Barnstaple and thought it worth a visit, which proved to be the case as we spent a pleasureable couple of hours here. Its theatre, the Landmark Theatre, was based very much on the cooling tower design and its concrete nipples looked rather out of place amongst the well-to-do Victorian buildings. In the background was the sea, with a huge rocky outcrop upon which there was perched a lighthouse. We didn't see the point of climbing up here, but we did go into the modest museum, which turned out to contain eight rooms of varying quality. This pleasant cream and purple building was built in 1885 and was once the laundry of the magnificent Ilfracombe Hotel, which is now where the Landmark Theatre sits. The highlight was undoubtedly the history of the town - which sent more soldiers to France in the fifteenth century than the whole of Liverpool - along with the exhibition dedicated to the local soldiers who fought in World War One. Indeed, a local headmaster encouraged his children to write to the men on the frontline and these letters, and the responses, form part of this rather moving exhibition. The letters from the soldiers treat the war as if it were a football game, such was the target audience, and accompanied with photographs of every man who went over to France to fight, there was a great poignancy to this room. The same was the case concerning the railway history of the town, with its train service axed in the Beeching era. The other rooms, however, were less interesting as they contained a number of stuffed animals (including a few horrendous thick snakes), a brass rubbing section, an old style kitchen and a range of dress from throughout the ages.
After we had been here, we decided to walk towards the harbour, spying a number of quaint shops as we strolled. Soon enough, we noticed the signs advertising trips to the island of Lunday and spied a number of beached yachts trapped within a manmade prison. The tide here comes in and out twice a day and when its out, the boats are effectively beached, which made for quite the sight. There were a number of shops lining the harbour wall and it was at one of them where we picked up our second local pasty of the trip, a lamb and mint, which was more Cornish than Devon unfortunately. Still, it was tasty and a pleasure walking by the sea, even if the wind was somewhat cold. At the end of the harbour there stands a rather amazing stainless steel and bronze statue created by the artist Damien Hirst. Entitled 'Verity', this pregnant lady carrying the scales of justice while standing on a tower of law books has been loaned to the town for the next twenty years and forms an imposing entrance to the harbour. Before its erection, it was wind tested to ensure it could withstand the elements here, while interestingly when it was constructed in 2012 - out of forty steel pieces - it was the tallest statue in the UK, surpassing The Angel of the North by ten inches. The statue was not without controversy when it was built but I rather like it for its boldness, along with her wistfully looking out towards Port Talbot for some reason.
Across the car park from here, there is a small church situated upon a hill, which also performed the role of a lighthouse. We decided to climb up it, partly to get the stunning views of the jagged cliffs and the churning sea and partly because the church itself looked interesting. It didn't take us long to discover its history and about the family who called this place home, before we descended back to the harbour and headed back to the car, checking out the rather dull high street in Ilfracombe as we did.
Our final stop of the day was the village of Combe Martin, just down the road from the John Fowler Holiday Park where we were staying. We could have walked here from the park in all honesty, but as we had the car with us, we thought we would drive. After parking up, it only took us about fifteen minutes to have a look around, with just two pubs, a shop and a garage of any real note. We did drop into the tourist information place to get more information on Exmoor sights and we were met by four volunteers who clearly wanted us to stay longer than the five minutes we afforded here. There was a small village museum but after the one in Ilfracombe, we didn't fancy another provinicial affair, but the staff here were all really nice and very helpful. After that, we just headed back to the Park really. We spotted Seadragom and Cosmo walking by the beach and said hi but with little else to do here and no Devon ales to sample in either of the two bars, we decided to meet up with our friends once again and continue our shenanigans. Indeed, this was very much the story of a great weekend.
