I went back to work today and my commute took me across the wild windswept landscape of Dartmoor. It's got to be better than if I'd ended up working in the City taking the tube each day. Although I'm warming to London again in my middle years I'm still appalled by the black snot that is a product of travelling on the Underground. My sensitive milkmaid-like skin(!) also breaks out in spots every time I visit the big smoke.
What I'd planned was to stop on route and take some impressive shots of the bleak landscape that would have made you all go wow! But it was blowing a hoolie outside the car. So I put any dreams of a career as a photo-journalist on hold in order to stay toasty warm. Instead I decided to use a picture from Google images to give a fancy dress shop that I've never heard of some free publicity. So go on - buy and hire lots of costumes from Party Pants!
For my trip across the moor takes me along the road which is the scene of the one of the most well-known legends of the moor. Travel this route at your peril for it is here that ghostly severed hairy hands were reported to have taken control of the steering wheel and forced the travellers off the road, sometimes with fatal consequences. Funny that these incidents often seemed to occur in the dark on icy nights at a spot where the slope of the road isn't quite as expected.