Smeaton’s Tower is iconic and is both central to Plymouth imagery and central in Plymouth itself, standing high on the Hoe overlooking the sound. The tower actually used to be 14 kilometers out to sea, but because the foundation was beginning to deteriorate, it was moved inland for preservation while a new lighthouse was installed in the water to take over the functional duties. This isn’t so unusual – Smeaton’s Tower is actually the third lighthouse to have stood in its in-water location, although the first two suffered more tragic fates – one was swept into the sea during a storm and the other caught fire, both taking people with them. I learned all this (along with more graphic details of the deaths associated with the previous lighthouses) as I bought my ticket to climb to the top of Smeaton’s tower.
What I saw
In keeping with the theme of this trip, I had a very basic itinerary for Plymouth (Best summed up as: See the lighthouse, eat scones with clotted cream) and other than that I just kind of wandered around. And around and around and around and around and around. While my first full day was that aforementioned windy, rainy, borderline bitter day, my second day was sunny, mild (in the 50s), and all around lovely. I was thrilled that I got to see things in such varied conditions, but that meant I wanted to see everything multiple times – in the rain, in the sun, during the day, at sunset… And so I wandered. So rather than bore you with the full-on itinerary of how many times I circled back to Smeaton’s Tower and the Barbican (so, so many), here’s the overview (you’re welcome):
Where I stayed
When I was booking accommodation, my only requirements were parking and a fairly central location. The Drake provided both, as well as an interesting history and super friendly hosts. The parking is easy, with several spots up front and additional spaces in the back. Thanks to my super compact car, I managed to snag the last spot up front, which, charmingly, required driving over the sidewalk to wedge myself in between the building, a post box, and a light post. Too easy with an Aygo! Have I mentioned how much that car grew on me over the course of the week?
But I digress.
I grew up in New England, which means that I learned about the Pilgrims early and often. I had multiple Pilgrim costumes and paraphernalia from multiple years of multiple school events, I took field trips to Plimouth Plantation, and I’m weirdly protective of, the admittedly underwhelming, Plymouth Rock. Like, I understand that it is a very small rock with a very large crack in it and that being stamped with 1620 doesn’t really give it any actual sense of legitimacy. That said, if you are visiting, ask to see the rock, and then openly mock it, I will dig deep into the corners of my memory for the ghosts of Social Studies classes past and muster up some outward indignance, even if I secretly agree with you.