By: Blonde Two

The Two Blondes have a strict rule which we try very hard (and sometimes fail) to keep. The rule concerns how you deal with situations or people that have made you cross.  I realise that it must be very tricky for any of you to imagine two such lovely, calm and friendly people ever getting cross but I sad to admit that we do (quite frequently).

The rule goes like this … “NEVER, EVER send an email or text if you are still cross.”  You can write it and send it to your fellow Blonde to check out, but you must not send it until at least 24 hours have passed.  I have decided that the same rule must apply to blog posts so I waited a total of three weeks before I wrote this one.  The rule has worked even though I think I was more sad than cross on this occasion.

The source of this sadness/crossness (shall we call it cradness?) was discovered by the Two Blondes upon their arrival in Princetown a few weeks ago.  You may remember that we had nabbed a minibus for Blonde One’s practice Dartmoor drive and the whole thing went swimmingly (no, she didn’t drive off the side of Holne Bridge) until we reached Princetown and discovered that most horrid of modern devices, a parking machine, in the main car park.

Now I am, for a Blonde, an intelligent woman and realise that things need to be paid for, and that honesty boxes (the previous method of car park remuneration) rely on honesty if they are going to be of any use.  I am also a very open Blonde and will admit to not always using the honesty box myself (hangs head in shame).  These are probably the reasons that my crossness about the parking machine quickly faded into sadness. I don’t really mind having to pay for the privilege of access to somewhere as beautiful as Dartmoor, we are very, very lucky to have it;  but the presence of a parking machine made it feel as though town (that horrid creeping urban thing) was wheedling it’s way onto our moors.

I am sure that the National Park thought long and hard before they made this decision. The prices are for a day which is good – can you imagine having to end an exploration of hut circles and bogs because your parking time was up?  I am not sure that the Two Blondes have ever made it back to any car park on time.

I was left a bit confused however about how much parking our minibus should have cost us.  It isn’t a car, it isn’t a bus and I don’t even begin to understand the “disk-thingy” the notice was talking about.  If someone could enlighten me, that would be great – I am hoping that it isn’t going to cost our kids £12 to park our three minibuses, that would bring on a whole new bout of Blonde cradness.