Porlock Weir to Minehead : the finish!

Well, the adventure is finally over! A fairly easy 9-ish miles into Minehead and I can now count myself among the thousands who've completed it since it was first designated as a National Trail in 1978. My friends had organised a surprise (see below) to make it a celebratory finish and the rain held off just long enough for final photos and to get in the car. Then it chucked it down.
Final Komoot summary is here and you may notice that I forgot to turn on Komoot until about 10 mins in - oops.
So, full distance was 630 miles with 115,000 ft of ascent. I'm chuffed to bits of course and still a bit bewildered that it's finished. Of course there's a slight anti-climax too, so I'll have to think what follows. Nic has already suggested a coastal path in Portugal and I've noticed that there's a European E9 coastal path from Cabo de Sao Vicente in Portugal to Narva-Joesuu in Estonia. Plus the England coastal path, the International Appalachian Trail (from the US, through Canada, and over to Scotland and beyond) and of course I've a bit of a head start on the LEJOG (Land's End to John O'Groats) walk: a mere 1,100 miles. So I've plenty of choice.

We started back at Porlock Weir. 

Until 1996 it was possible to walk along this shingle bank all the way to Bossington Hill. In that year, Storm Lilli washed so much sea water over the barrier that the outflow breached it and the area is now a tidal salt marsh. The remains of what must have been a small copse which couldn't survive in the new salty environment are clear:

Having crossed the salt marshes we came into Bossington, a very pretty little village at the bottom of the hill.

From there it was a pretty unrelenting climb up Bossington Hill, through a small herd of cattle that were rather disinclined to move (sorry Debs, forgot to take photos)
and on to the wild hill tops.

There is a choice at this point, the 'official' coast path route a bit inland or the encouragingly named 'rugged' coast path which keeps nearer to the coast. No contest, we went for the latter.

Not surprisingly there was rather more 'up and down' this way but the views out across to Wales-land (as Dubya might say) were splendid. No sign of Minehead yet, in fact it hides itself pretty well until the very last, and we were soon into the wooded descent and final run to the end.

I'd been promised a surprise and wasn't disappointed. Out of nowhere (well, a path-side shelter) Two human-sized bananas appeared, accoutred with fluffy ice cream cone, congratulations balloon, sea-side whirlies, a lei, and a medal in the form of a babies-dummy shaped piece of rock candy.

 Most of which you can see below but I'll update this post in a day or so when we get all the pictures together.

This of course was all Jane (on the left) and Cindy's doing, clearly it's not just boys who like dressing up. Most passers-by were terribly English about it, just saying good morning and pretending there was nothing remotely unusual about all this but plenty of banter also with sundry strangers.

And so to the finish line:

Again, better photos than mine to follow. The structure is the official start of the Path and represents a pair of hands holding a map. Even at this point we hadn't seen much evidence of Minehead other than the prominent 'tents' of Butlins. Without being too harsh on it, I think it's fair to say it's not the most attractive of towns, but it does have some interesting history and at least one famous son: Arthur C Clarke (1912-2008) was born here.

There was a small port at Minehead by 1380, which grew into a major trading centre during the medieval period and by the beginning of the 18th century, trade between Minehead and Ireland, South Wales, Bristol and Bridgwater had grown, with forty vessels based in the harbour for trade and herring fishing - it was also a departure point for pilgrims to Santiago de Compostela.

During the Second World War the pier was demolished as it obstructed the view from the gun battery on the quay head and the town was bombed by KG 54, a Luftwaffe bomber wing on the night of the 7/8 April 1941.

The Mermaid, one of the oldest business premises in the town, is the home of Minehead’s famous Whistling Ghost – Old Mother Leakey, who died in 1634. The ghost became notorious by allegedly "whistling up a storm" whenever one of her son’s ships neared port.

One popular ancient local tradition involves the Obby Oss, which takes to the streets for four days on the eve of the first of May each year, with accompanying musicians and rival horses. 

The wooded bluffs above Minehead feature as the Hermit’s abode, "in that wood which slopes down to the sea", in Coleridge’s Rime of the Ancient Mariner and the town was the subject of a parody skit as the fictional target of a takeover in Monty Python’s  infamous "Mr. Hilter" sketch, where barely concealed caricatures of Hitler, von Ribbentrop and Heinrich Himmler conspire at a local rooming house for the "National Bocialist" party to unite Minehead and Taunton in a manner similar to the Anschluss between Germany and Austria in 1938.

Since December 2012 Minehead has hosted the Professional Darts finals and in 2011 the  European Outdoor Tug of War Championships was held within the grounds at Butlin's Minehead.

So it's not all bad.

Update: 24 July 2018
It's been pointed out to me that there were no photos of me actually at the finish so here's one just to prove I was there - complete with finisher's trophies! If you're wondering where the other banana went, she's taking the photo.

I'd like to thank all of you who've read my witterings, generously made donations, joined me on parts of the walk, or just generally supported me. It has been very encouraging to have you all there, vicariously or otherwise. I particularly remember all the encouragement when I ran into difficulties (of my own making) at Zennor. Thank you.

Of course I've enjoyed the whole experience immensely and I hope that comes across in these blogs. But none of this would have happened had it not been for the sadness of Karen's death last year. She has I think been in all our thoughts and would have approved I'm sure of the whole enterprise. 

It has been good for me too, to revisit all these places that we loved so much, to discover how many there were, and through the walk to remember them now fondly rather than sadly. We all raised a glass to Karen at lunch after the finish - she was much loved and is much missed but we all know would have exhorted us to enjoy life to the full. I like to think this walk is an example of that and it is dedicated to her memory.

Karen Martin: 14.11.1951 - 20.09.2017

Peter 

.     

Lynton to Porlock Weir

Just one section to go now - only 9.5 miles (pah!) and a tad over 2,000ft and it's all finished. Now I'm really getting excited. One huge hill and a load of woodland walking today, unexpectedly tiring but satisfying nonetheless. Komoot summary here.

Cloudy start, about the only part of the UK that had one, and early morning in Lynton looking its best

It was straight into a big climb up the Foreland:

This morning was much windier than before, something of a relief, and at the top of Foreland particularly so. Having regained the path (cough small nav error) we met two girls going the other way. Bearing in mind that there's no villages or settlements along the route until Porlock we wondered how early they must have started from there: 5.30 am apparently, and "after way too much beer". We felt suddenly old.

After the road to the lighthouse the path drops into woodland and that's pretty much it for the rest of the route so again, not many opportunities for pictures. Another time I might investigate taking a GoPro or similar to show what the woodland trail is like. It's very peaceful and an easy trail to follow. This gives some idea.

We passed a set of stone gateposts with boars heads on top; these herald the entrance to Glenthorne House.





Bought in 1983 by Sir Christopher Ondaatje who rescued it from impending dereliction, the house is built on a spectacular coastal site overlooking the Bristol Channel – said to be the only piece of flat land between Porlock and Lynmouth - by the Rev Walter Stevenson Halliday, son of a Scottish naval surgeon and banker who made a fortune during the Napoleonic Wars. 

He first had to construct a 3 mile drive for access to the site, as well as a track to the shore and a landing stage for materials to be delivered. Finished in 1831 it was variously extended over the next 60 years in Georgian, Gothic and Tudor styles. In February 2018 it was put up for sale: yours for £5.5m – a bargain. You can see the full sale particulars here but this is an example of how fantastic it is:

there's also an article about it in Country Life here.

The path continued to meander through the woods and we were starting to lose track of where we were or had got to. Woods are a bit like that, something of a disorientating quality that I suppose underlies all those fairy tales. A brief respite for the now traditional lunch time sarnie and then we came to England's 'smallest complete parish church' at Culbone. Beautiful in the sunshine of course but also slightly desolate, with no-one around

Not being a fan of churches (I'm with Philip Pullman on that) I didn't go inside but it apparently only holds at most 30 people and is only 35 ft long overall. In the TV version of Lorna Doone it figured in the wedding of John Ridd and it was also in the 1988 video of Mike and the Mechanics "In the Living Years".

Legend has it that the area between Glenthorne and Culbone is where Jesus may have alighted on a trip with Joseph of Arimathea, inspiring the references in Blake’s poem for the hymn ‘Jerusalem’. 

Then again, perhaps he didn't.

Finally we emerged from the woodland path and down into Porlock Weir. 

Basically the harbour for Porlock (the weir refers to salmon stakes and traps along the shore) it’s been around for at least a thousand years and the area was several miles inland until the sea level in the Bristol Channel rose about 7000 to 8000 years ago. At low tide the remains of a submerged wreck can be seen on Porlock Beach. 

Samuel Taylor Coleridge (who lived nearby) was interrupted during composition of his poem Kubla Khan by "a person on business from Porlock", and found afterward he couldn’t remember what had come to him in a dream. Coleridge and Wordsworth used to walk the cliffs so often a government agent investigated the possibility they were French spies but concluded they were ‘mere poets’. There is a poem called Porlock written by their friend Robert Southey in 1798.

This is a very rocky shore and the channel to the sea, difficult at the best of times by the look of it, requires considerable maintenance. Large lock-type gates are used to trap a pool of water at high tide, and this is then released later, to scour the channel free of rocks. Consequently normal boyhood pastimes are not encouraged:

Happily for us our visit coincided with 'WeirFest', a free 4-day real ale and cider festival with live music. We ate (and stayed) in Porlock - a lovely little village with a very relaxed vibe and some seriously good food at The Ship and at Lorna Doone.

So last night tonight and tomorrow a short 10 mile walk to Minehead and end of the Path. I'm told to expect a 'surprise' (slightly oxymoronic) which I'm sure will be fun and then off to a local hostelry for a beer before heading home.

Valedictions will have to wait until I've properly finished tomorrow but the support from friends and family has been just great and I hope you've enjoyed the trip vicariously as much as I have first hand. Perhaps it's even inspired you to do some of it yourselves? I hope so, you'll surely enjoy it.

Peter

Combe Martin to Lynton

Another hot one but the cavalry has arrived to give me support! Jane, Cindy, Charlie & Nick have come from London - a 5 hour drive, nearly as long as my walk. As well as buying me beer and dinner tonight, they're going to be ground crew for Nic and I on the next, final two days. Thanks folks.

Today the path was back to its best: plenty of climb and descent and stupendous views. I'm now just 22 miles from the finish (and less than 6,000 ft). Photos and summary on Komoot here.

Straight out of Combe Martin and up what I naively assumed was the Great Hangman, cos it looked, well big.

Shoulda read the guide better - that was only the Little Hangman. Great Hangman is about 350ft higher and is the highest sea cliff in England at 820 ft. When I got to the top of it and looked back, it was clear which was the bigger!
The apocryphal legend of a sheep stealer accidentally strangled by his booty’s tether appears not to be the origin of the name, which is more prosaically derived from old Celtic and Germanic words for sloping hill.

Leslie Charteris’ character Simon Templar (aka The Saint) in Meet the Tiger stayed on Great Hangman in an abandoned World War I pillbox so he could find out about a Chicago gangster staying in Baycombe (=Combe Martin).

From here there's quite a lot of high-level walking along one of the few coastal heathland habitats in England. The early-ish morning haze was still very evident so not much in the way of views or hills. Although it feels like quite desolate terrain here the occasional sign to a car park is a reminder that the road isn't far away. One of these is near the Glass Box, marked on the OS map, which according to my taxi driver is a refuge of sorts for the comedian Bill Bailey.

But then the path dips down significantly into the heavily wooded Heddon's Cleave valley. The paths on the approach to this are very close to the edge and spectacular - not for vertigo sufferers. It goes down pretty much to sea level and then all the way back up again so it's quite a stiff climb but one that allowed me to get a steady rhythm going so it was soon done. The only difficulty is with the bugs (especially horseflies) that prefer the shade. I've read that one tip is to put double-sided sticky tape on the back of one's hat to minimise rear attack. Hmm

At the mouth of the valley is an old lime kiln. The cove here is so isolated that during WW2 a German U-Boat captain apparently allowed his men ashore for relaxation without fear of detection. You can get some idea from this photo which shows the high level path and the valley track as well.

That was really the last big climb and from here on it was largely across open hill-top territory. The path again goes close to the edge

Approaching Lynton there are sigificant sections along roads with occasional detours into fields. This area is still being finalised after a lot of recent erosion damage. Through the estate of Lee Abbey, a Christian conference, retreat, and holiday centre and into the Valley of Rocks

The setting for part of R D Blackmore’s Lorna Doone, it has impressed and inspired many writers, not always with joy. As Letitia Landon put it, in 1831, "Gloomy vale! if thou couldst be haunt for human misery, half our life were spent with thee" . Cheerful, huh? 

It has also been home for hundreds of years to a herd of feral goats. Once passed the view back is as good as any on the whole path

From here the path sadly is tarmac all the way into Lynton but I'm soon admiring the water operated Cliff Railway which joins the two villages of Lynton and Lynmouth. Once in Lynton it wasn't hard to find a tea shop for my customary re-hydration (and a Devoshire Cream Tea!) but amazingly I could find not a single pub in the whole village (boo) so I made do with the Valley of the Rocks Hotel (hooray).

Gainsborough honeymooned in Lynmouth and Shelley worked on Queen Mab here. The Sillery Sands naturist beach is barely (!) a mile away. 

Lynton suffered badly in the floods of 1952 (otherwise a very good year, by the way) with 230mm (9 inches in old money) of rain falling in one day. The resulting flood waters and accumulated debris destroyed over 100 buildings, 28 of the 31 bridges, and washed 38 cars out to sea. 34 people died and 420 were homeless as a result. There is a scale model of the village before the flood in the memorial hall near the harbour. Some still believe that the event was caused by experimental cloud seeding by the RAF.

As for Lynmouth, the well-known British rock band InMe refer “semi-frequently” (so, probably not very much) to Lynmouth in their songs and in James Herbert’s The Secret of Crickley Hall the village of Hollow Bay is based on it.

There is an extraordinary tale involving the Lymouth lifeboat that I'm still stunned by:

In 1899 the three masted ship Forest Hall was in severe trouble but the Lynmouth lifeboat couldn’t launch into the gale that had been blowing all that day. Jack Crocombe, the coxswain, decided to take the 10 ton vessel by road to launch from the more sheltered Porlock, 13 miles away. To do so took from 8 pm until 6.30 am the following day. It took  20 horses and 100 men, needed a section of road to be widened, a climb (and difficult descent) of over 1,400 ft, the demolition of a garden wall and some tree felling. Then the crew had to row for an hour in heavy seas but they rescued all aboard with no loss of life. Unless you count the poor horses, 4 of which died of exhaustion. This extraordinary story was the subject of C Walter Hodges 1969 children’s book The Overland Launch and the feat was re-enacted in 1999, albeit in better weather, in daylight and on better roads. Otherwise exactly the same.

Lynmouth is where Nic and I start tomorrow's walk. From up here it looks delightful but I suspect we'll have quite a climb to pay for starting at sea level!

So just the 12.3 miles tomorrow (graded "moderate") which should take about 6 hours so with an early start I hope we can again finish before 3 pm to avoid the worst of the heat. The forecasters have changed their mind, too: they say it'll be sunny and hot all the way to Sunday's finish now 😀. Yippee.

I'm certainly enjoying this final phase of the walk and starting to wonder what I might do afterwards - any suggestions?

Peter

Mortehoe to Combe Martin

Walked a bit further than I meant to, with a stroll around Ilfracombe, but in SWCP terms I'm now up to 595 miles (and 105,000 ft) so tomorrow I'll be over the 600 mile mark. Komoot summary and photos (many of which are not in the blog, so do go and have a look) here.

I started at 8 am in Mortehoe, just up the hill from Woolacombe, on another sunny day but at least with a cool breeze. At last a hill to climb and the views back didn't disappoint. the sea really was this colour and so clear.

Round Morte Point: As you might suppose from the name, this has been the site of many shipwrecks over the years. One had a cargo of live pigs, most of which survived and the cove to the South is now called Grunta beach! Next up was Bull Point, the path turns right here and starts to make its final progress East towards Minehead. The Bull Point lighthouse had to be rebuilt after subsidence in 1972 made it unsafe. The old lighthouse keepers cottages are now let out for tourist accommodation.

The view 'round the corner' was much more to my liking than the previous few days. Since Hartland really, before Clovelly.

The reason, apart from my preference for non-flat and non-tarmac walks, is I think partly down to geology. The North Devon coast is much less precipitous then is generally the case for Cornwall, and the soil usually richer so much of it is wooded. This has its own charms and is a wonderful habitat for wildlife but does get in the way of a good view!

One other welcome change today was that with the stronger winds I could actually hear the sea. I'd forgotten how much I'd missed it over these hot, still days.

My wish for hills was handsomely fulfilled today and after a brief drop down into Lee (lovely placid place with few houses, a derelict hotel but a proper pub - that I didn't go to - weren't expecting that, were you?) at the end of 'the Fuchsia Valley' it was back up onto the tops again. A bit of road work before emerging onto the fields and a first glimpse of Ilfracombe. The path here descends via a long series of hairpins in an area called the Torrs. As it emerges from the woods (there they are again) there's a view directly across to Ilfracombe's tidal swimming pool.

I spent a little time in Ilfracombe, just wandering. Partly I confess because I kept missing the coast path signs but also because it looked interesting. Ilfracombe has been around since the Iron Age, dominated by Hillsborough (the large hill to the East that I’m going to have to climb), known as the Sleeping Elephant. St Nicholas's Chapel (built 1361) on nearby Lantern Hill is reputed to be the oldest working lighthouse in the UK and the sheltered harbour became a significant registered port of refuge on the Bristol Channel. The town is now home to the new Landmark Theatre (aka Madonna’s Bra) with a somewhat recognisable shape:

 Mariners are now guided in by local patron Damien Hirst’s statue “Verity”. I confess I find her rather disturbing but I guess that's perhaps the point, at least partly. She stands on legal textbooks and holds a pair of scales behind her so it's some kind of allegory on truth and justice I guess. Think I need help to get any further though.

In the 1820s a set of four tunnels were hand carved by Welsh miners to give alternative access to the beaches instead of climbing the cliffs, rounding the point by boat, swimming or clambering around the rocks of the point. These tunnels led to the tidal pools I saw earlier, used for segregated male and female bathing – women completely covered, men not.

George Eliot and Terry Thomas both visited here, which sounds like going from the sublime to the ridiculous; Peter Sellers lived here with his parents who managed the Gaiety Theatre; and Joan and Jackie Collins went to boarding school here. Heady stuff.

Oh, and the author of Tarka the Otter, Henry Williamson, lived here. 

There's also a prominent artwork celebrating Jonathan Edwards Olympic gold medal winning triple jump. When you see the actual lengths of the individual hop, step and jump it's pretty impressive.

Climbing out of Ilfracombe up Hillsborough gave some marvellous views back towards the harbour and, inevitably, Verity.

The next section was subject to many diversions as a result of extensive erosion so a lot of it is either on the road or close to it. More hard pounding, unfortunately. There's a brief drop down into Hele which on first encounter seems almost to have been overrun by mobile homes, and then Watermouth, clearly a boating favourite and a very sheltered inlet.

Apart from the harbour, Watermouth has its own castle. Really just a country house, built in the early 1800s by Joseph Bassett and used as a military hospital during WW1. Bought by the conservative MP for Dorking South Keith Wickenden (who died in a light aircraft crash near Shoreham in 1983) who sold it in 1977 for £50,000. It is now run as a tourist attraction with themed rides such as Gnome Land and Adventure Land.

And so finally into Combe Martin. Like Litton Cheney and Shipton Gorge the Martin suffix refers to the family that used to own it, in this case the Fitzmartins in the 13^th and 14^th centuries, and sadly not mine in the 20^th . 

It has the Guinness world record for the longest street party (yards, not days); an annual wheelbarrow race; and a yearly procession  "The Hunting of the Earl of Rone". This refers to the legend of the Earl of Tyrone, fleeing Ireland in 1607, being shipwrecked on nearby Rapparee beach. He wasn’t but let’s not spoil the party - which lasts a weekend, finishing with a two mile procession involving the 'obby 'oss and Earl of Rone, a Fool, "Grenadiers", drummers and music, a donkey, and hundreds of dancers in festive dress. Quite some party.

The village's Pack o’Cards pub, built around 1700 by George Ley, is reputed to have been funded by his gambling successes and originally had 52 windows, 13 rooms and four floors.

Some Combe Martin silver is in the Crown Jewels.

I'd noticed the previous evening that I could get a massage back in Mortehoe, and had duly booked it, so that was my reward today. So good, almost as good as a bath. I'd like to see more like this on the route - Carol Briggs (Sea Breeze Retreat) did a splendid job ironing out my muscle kinks so if you're in the area and in need: 07884 070289.

Tomorrow is a long one with no obvious stops for hydration or food. It'll take about 7 hours so hopefully I'll get another early start and arrive in time to meet up with my friends arriving from London. I'll have company on the last two legs of this walk, all the way to the finish line, which will be great and make it into a proper celebration.

Still hoping for rain but the forecasters seem to have gone off the idea!

Peter

Braunton to Mortehoe

Good mileage today (15.7) and at last over 100,000 ft of ascent. Bragging rights 😀! Komoot summary here. Tomorrow will be a milestone as I round the corner, so to speak, at Bull Point and turn East for the final time and the run in to Minehead. Gosh, less than 50 miles to go - Woo!Woo!

Not a great start as I was a 'twirly' (bus pass doesn't work til later) and also got off one stop too late. Thought I was awake but .... I did at least remember to get two bottles of water in case there were no cafes. After Zennor (and a similar experience in the Highlands) I'm making sure to have plenty.

The start at Braunton followed the creek that runs into the river Taw. It's tidal of course and with the full moon's spring tides the low water levels are lower than usual but even so I don't think these boats have been used for a while. I know reeds grow quickly but even so....

Eventually the path runs along the top of a flood defence wall following the road. This whole wetland area has been subject to extensive drainage and control and is now lush farmland - as evidenced by the livestock. Plenty of sheep and Devon Red cattle for cute pictures (see Komoot, Debs!) The salt marshes on the seaward side are just beautiful; prime samphire territory too and I met one collector gathering for breakfast. Hmm, I like samphire but - for breakfast? 

This enclosed area gives way to the Braunton Burrows (part of the North Devon Biosphere Reserve which has the largest sand dune system in England) about a third of which is a military training area. The signs say that exercises take place without warning and that it's a designated live firing area! Just to add to the atmosphere, the Marines are busy playing with their hovercraft (remember those?) on the estuaries. Oh well, as I recall from school days it's quite hard to hit anything even when you're aiming at it, so I'd be really unlucky to cop one today. Press on. 

Before the path turns inland there's a glimpse of the estuaries, looking over towards Instow and Appledore (the Frigate was still there). It's a wonderful sight, this broad open scene and the smell of the sea.

The route from here is another flat hard pounding section along a hard core road, through the training area and past the golf course (where they also shoot rounds, come to think of it) but eventually, hallelujah, up a hill and to the beach at Saunton Sands which runs along the Burrows. I'm no longer surprised that it's just huge, as there have been so many like this but I'm pleased I didn't have to walk along it (see later!). One pint of tea later and it's off round the headland to Croyde Bay. This was my target for lunch and I made it across the beach, into Croyde and up to Baggy's surf cafe for a great lunchtime view and more re-hydration.

Immensely popular for surfing, and with an 800m sandy beach, Croyde has hosted GoldCoast Oceanfest since 1999, an annual surfing and music festival at around the time of summer solstice. Saunton, Croyde and Woolacombe beaches are, unusually, all privately owned (although only as far as the high water mark). Together they each face a slightly different direction so surfers don’t have to go far when conditions change, which is one of the reasons for their popularity. Another, according to my B&B hostess, Sue, is the strong rip tides here which help to form good surf. Wouldn't want to come off the board, though, I'm thinking.

It looks fairly easy from here: round Baggy Point, down Napps cliff and along the beach to Woolacombe. Well, yes; but the heat was really starting to build now (about 1 pm and 28C: mad dogs and Englishmen eh?) and despite the distraction of an ice cream and er, lots of things to look at, that walk along the beach was nearly as mind-numbing as the Tarka trail to Barnstaple. It's 3 miles long and of course the soft sand makes for an energy-sapping trek. I may regret saying this but I'm really looking forward to a proper up-and-down coastal path with its expansive views and (hopefully) cooling breezes on the tops.

Mind you, it has to be said that the views from Baggy Point towards Lundy (you can see it in the photos now) and along the beach to Woolacombe are as spectacular as any on the Path.

and the brightly painted beach huts are fun:

Woolacombe has its fair share of new development and one at least with an inspired name, though I'm not sure what standard of customer service they expect ....

Woolacombe is part of the hugely popular surfing area here, and its 3 mile beach was rated as Britain’s best beach of 2015. It’s a shame that the old crazy golf course was demolished: it had North Devon landmarks for the holes with buildings made from local stone. Until 1948 the beach and much of the surrounding land was owned by the Chichester family, who acquired it in 1133 during the reign of Henry I. During WW2 U.S. Army Assault Training Centre was based at Woolacombe and used the beach to simulate amphibious landings on Omaha beach. There’s a stone memorial to it all at the North end of the beach but sadly I'd missed it.

So I made it a little further on, to Mortehoe (where there's parking for the start of tomorrow's walk). This is a lovely little village, largely unspoilt, and my recommendation for a visit. I can vouch for the Ship Aground (more rehydration of course) and there's also a museum, a National Trust place, cafes, two churches.....
.... and away from the hubbub of the main resort.


So, tomorrow to Ilfracombe and on to Combe Martin where I'm staying. A tad under 12 miles (pah!) and just over 4,000 ft of climbing - joy unconfined - after which it's only 35 miles to go. The weather's set to break on Sunday so I might have a cooling finish. That'd be nice 😁😂.

Peter

A short hop: Barnstaple to Braunton

Probably the shortest leg I've done on the whole SWCP - and definitely  the hottest. 5.5 miles but at 32 degrees C! Komoot summary, as ever, here.

This was a continuation of the Tarka trail that you might remember from the last post. It's tarmac, pretty straight because it follows the route of the old railway, and for the same reason almost completely flat. So it looks like this:

and this:

And it just keeps on going like that for 5 miles. You get the idea. Not a lot of variation! It's on an impressively grand scale though and the estuary is truly majestic: I've tried to give some idea with this panoramic shot (roughly a 180 degree scan) but not sure how well. See what you think.

Anyhow the other major feature of today was of course the heat. The UK is in one of its occasional heatwaves and looks set to stay that way for the rest of the week : lucky me! 32 degrees today but tomorrow is supposed to be hotter. Yikes. However I should have the benefit of some hills and variation in terrain. Maybe even the odd sea breeze if I'm lucky.

The path runs alongside the river Tay and then passes the old airfield (the wannabe pilot in me thinks it's a shame it's not still active) where it's now the base for the Royal Marines 3 Commando Brigade together with, according to the flags flying there, the Royal Navy and the Royal Engineers. This is Chivenor, originally a civil airfield from the 1930s and used by the RAF coastal command in WW2. In the 50s private flying re-started with the Wrafton flying club (later renamed Puffin) but from 1955 the RAF resumed training, flying Vampires and Hunters. It was from here that for 3 days in 1967 the RAF’s hunters bombed the grounded oil tanker Torrey Canyon in a vain attempt to burn off the leaking oil. There was a period of Search & Rescue activities in the 50s and a training role in the 80s and 90s before it finally closed in 1995. 

It's not all military though, there's clearly some commercial enterprises here:

I gotta say I was tempted but, well y'know, I've got a path to walk, places to be....

Also I wanted to get this section done as I knew it was going to be rather trying.

Finally the path brought me into Braunton, at one time the self-declared largest village in England. I suppose it depends on the definition but I can't help thinking there are probably a few candidates for that title.  
Bordering the village is what is reputed to be the largest remaining 'strip' farming area in the UK, known as the 'Great Field' . Probably from medieval times and continuing today, this large area has always been open tilled without formal boundaries, with at least 3 families still involved in production. 

The local water is so soft that despite a US company’s cotton processing business having operated for over 40 years, their boilers needed no maintenance or descaling. There is a Museum of British Surfing (gosh, who knew British Surfing was old enough to warrant a museum?) in the goods shed of the old Braunton Railway Station. 

And that really was that, for today. A brief re-introduction to walking again but, heat apart, very enjoyable. As I set out from Barnnstaple I quickly realised how much I enjoy walking. The relaxed pace, the time to let the mind freewheel through stuff that a 'normal' busy life can crowd out, the satisfaction at the day's end of an objective achieved. And of course the restorative, and earned, hot bath! Clearly I'm going to have to do some more adventuring once this is complete.

Let's hope I'm as upbeat after a long hot day tomorrow. And tomorrow. And tomorrow. Nah, it'll be grand, of course it will. 😀

Appledore to Barnstaple

The flattest section yet, and quite possibly the most knackering! Long tarmac trails, by the end I wanted a good honest-to-goodness hill 😀. Made the target for the week though, with some time to spare. Today was 15 miles so my cumulative now up to 562 miles and 99,931 ft: but I won't crack the 100,000 for a day or so as the next section (for day 1 next visit) has no climb at all. Today's Komoot summary here.

Was I bovvered, today? You betcha: the ferry didn't run until 5 pm so I had to go the long (and official path) route round the estuaries. I knew it was going to be flat so at least I didn't need to carry anything bar phone and wallet. The hotel looked out over this, so an encouraging view to start

Just down the road from here is the old Richmond dockyard. Appledore has a big boat building history, as the notice board made clear (you may have to zoom in on this to read it)

Although this old yard is now derelict, unused since the 1960s, Babcock have two large facilities just up river and a frigate was tied up at the first: F64. I can't find a serving ship with this designation so it's a bit of a mystery. Anyone know?

In fact Appledore has a rich maritime heritage from the second half of the 19th century. The Richmond Dry Dock was built in 1856 by William Yeo and named after Richmond Bay in Prince Edward Island, where the Yeo family's shipping fleet was based.

Annoyingly (but let's be honest, a first world problem) the path goes under a high road bridge that would have provided an earlier crossing - grrr - and then into Bideford itself, which to my surprise (though, why?) was very colourful and pretty

It would seem that it's twinned with Landivisau in Brittany, perhaps in part because they both have military connections.

The Long Bridge built here in 1286 was supplanted by a stone one 1474 which is still largely intact. There are various theories as to why the arches are of different sizes, including (probably apocryphally) that they were all funded by different local guilds.

The Welsh "bydd y ffordd" means " this is the way" and there used to be a ford here but on the river Torridge, not the Bide (which quite probably is a river I just invented). Hubba the Dane (not the Jat: groan) attacked here but was seen off by Alfred the Great. There is a lot of recorded history about it since William, the-Bastard’s days and it has been included in lands variously owned by Matilda (wife of WtB) and the Grenvilles (later Granvilles) whose forbear Sir Richard I de Grenville was one of the twelve Knights of Glamorgan.

Sir Walter Raleigh, although not the first to import it, landed his first shipment of tobacco here and there has been substantial trading and shipbuilding for many years.

Among key events in its history, the Bideford Witch Trial took place here in 1682 and the town was a major area for deployment of US troops during WW2, although I daresay there was a fair bit went on in between.  The pigment Bideford Black was mined until 1969, used both as camouflage paint by the military and mascara by Max Factor.

Cricket umpire David Shepherd and defence secretary John Nott were born here and lead guitarist Stuart Anstis (from the well-known Cradle of Filth) went to school here. There are several markets, including the Pannier Market in the Market Hall and the weekly Farmers Market on the quay.

Crossing the Long Bridge to the distinctly down-market East side (or rive droite as you might say) the path quickly joins the Tarka Trail, part of the Devon coast to coast cycle route and this section uses the old railway line. It's a shared path, which creates its own hazards, and tarmacked. Whilst this makes for level walking, the combination of hard unvarying surface and repetitious walking action is numbing and, whisper it quietly, a little boring. There are some rewarding views down river toward the Torridge estuary though.

From here into Instow, home of the North Devon Cricket Club and another on the list of grounds I'd like to go to see a match. Thankfully the SWCP leaves the Tarka Trail and goes round the outside of two marsh areas, Instow Barton and East Yelland, with estuarine mud on the other side. I like these kind of wild, rather derelict places full of wildlife that just gets on with it when left unmolested.

After that respite we rejoin the Tarka Trail for 6 miles (yes, 6 miles!) of tarmac path, mostly dead straight as well, into Barnstaple. It's enough to test anyone's zen and I had some small insight into how dull it must have been to drive the train - why did small boys of my generation want to be train drivers? (P'raps it was just their Dads). It was so hard going that even I succumbed to an ice cream 😁.

I was able to get an answer to a puzzle that had been nagging at me for a couple of hours, when I came across some botanists doing a verge-health survey. What on earth is this:

Rather like a dandelion on steroids, it turns out to be Goats Beard or, if you prefer its old name, "Jack goes to bed at noon" from the flower's habit of closing up. I haven't knowingly seen any of this before but I daresay it's widespread.

I finally made it to Barnstaple, though over the modern bridge rather than the old one I'd planned - slight <cough> navigational error 

Long Bridge just visible in the distance

and slumped into the nearest cafe to summon a cab. 

Barnstaple is the main town and retail centre of North Devon, a former river port, exporting wool since the 14^th century, and probably the oldest borough in the UK. The town centre still has a medieval layout and character. When the harbour eventually silted up Bideford took over as the principal port.

Perhaps my favourite piece of trivia from the whole path so far is that the majority of local people are employed in the yo-yo industry, either manufacture, instructing or professional use. Since the first world yo-yo championships in 2007, 8 championships have been won by a competitor from the town, given rise to its nickname ‘the up and down town’.

Norman Scott lived in Barnstaple in 1975, blackmailing local MP Jeremy Thorpe over their alleged sexual relationship, as we know from the recent TV series. Apparently Thorpe’s colleague David Holmes phoned Andrew Newton (the hit man) with instructions to intimidate Scott, whom he would meet at a hotel in Barnstaple. But it was a bad line, and Newton spent time hanging around Dunstable in Bedfordshire. I'd say insert your own cock-up reference here but even that doesn't sound right.

Sir Francis Chichester was born here, as were Katie Hopkins, Phil Vickery, Tim Wonnacott of Bargain Hunt and Snowy White from Thin Lizzy.

This week required some ad hoc revision to the plan but I'm pleased to have completed it. There are still some challenging sections ahead (not least another 6 miles level walking on tarmac from Barnstaple to Braunton!) but nothing on the scale of Bude to Hartland so barring disaster I'm starting to feel confident of making the finish line on July 1 - in time to meet up with friends and celebrate.

Thanks to all for support (and reading my ramblings) and stay tuned for the final week, beginning Monday 25th June.

Peter