Week Three – 200 miles, Goodbye to the South West Coast Path, Hello Cider

Some places just beg to be visited, simply because of their name; only one place in Britain includes an exclamation mark, Westward Ho!  Local entrepreneurs named it after Charles Kingsley’s book set in nearby Bideford.  The village is a classic product of Victorian seaside development and enjoyed years of affluence but fell into decline when cheap package holidays sucked money away from the British seaside.  Now, like many others, it’s starting to pick itself up with more investment and with new developments starting.

 The village sits on a big bay, one of the last west facing beaches that catches the full impact of the Atlantic, and there is potential for the surfer market, it’s easier to get to that than the Cornish resorts further west and to my untutored eye the waves look good for surfing.  The village boasts a lovely little tidal swimming pool, curtesy of the Victorian boom in sea bathing, sea pools, as their name implies are close to the sea and are refreshed every high tide.  They are effectively man made rock pools, which including wildlife brought in by every tide!  Sea pools were once relatively common around the country, but most fell into disrepair and were developed out of existence in the 60’s and 70’s as people’s ideas of fun shifted to warmed climes.  But a few, like this one, have survived and draw the ever increasing devotees of open water swimming to them like moths to cold and soggy flames; Sandra certainly enjoyed her dip in Westward Ho!’s pool and I liked the place.

Sandra in the Westward Ho! Sea Pool. The picture is aligned correctly, the horizon is level but the wierd shape of the pool and the rock formations around it make it look like the water in the pool is at a strange angle.

 For the past two weeks I’ve been, if not complaining, then at least highlighting the steep ups and downs involved in walking the Cornish and Devon sections of the South West Coast path.  Week three offered an all too brief alternative, a stroll around the Taw Estuary.

 For those unfamiliar with the detailed geography of the West Country Peninsular (Devon and Cornwall), most of the coast is steep cliffs plunging to wide sandy bays or narrow harbours.  However, there are a few special places where long river estuaries reach deep inland and provide the walker with the amusing prospect of a day’s exercise for no actual progress towards the final destination.

 If you’re lucky the estuary will have a tidal crossing, as at Newquay (saved 6km), or a ferry, as at Padstow (saved 20km), but if you’re unlucky it’s a long trog inland to a bridge and the back out again, such was the case on Friday (31st March).  After visiting Westward Ho! We started walking at Instow, a small, resort on the Torridge Estuary, here the ‘Tarka Trail’ more literary references, runs in tandem with the South West Coast Path and follows an old railway line for 10km along the southern side of the Taw Estuary to Barnstaple (Sandra and Arthur turned round at about 8km to collect the van).  From Barnstaple the old line continued along the northern edge of the Taw for a further 8km.  The route was flat, tarmacked and fast if a bit hard on the feet.  When I finally left the estuary I’d walked over 16km but was only 1km north of where I’d been three hours earlier!

The new bridge across the Taw Estuary, without this shortcut it was another two miles to the old bridge at Barnstaple

The view from the northern side of the Taw Estuary, the other side is only 1km away but was 16km on foot.

From the Atlantic facing Westward Ho! (I love the exclamation mark), it was onto the North Devon Coast; so far looking out to sea had presented a huge vista of water disappearing into the West, next stop America.  All of a sudden the seascape was constrained, first Lundy loomed large and then the coast of Wales hove into view, initially just an indistinct line but now it’s clearly visible and from our current campsite near Ilfracombe Swansea and Cardiff are clearly seen, especially at night.  The Atlantic has given way to the Bristol Channel which will soon become the Seven Estuary and the gateway to the Welsh Marches and Offa’s Dyke in about 100 miles.

 Spring is also on the move, even faster than I’m walking; an significant factor in starting the walk in mid March was to enjoy the Spring as it moves north across the country and so far, Cornwall and Devon have lived up to my expectations.  The banks, hedges and woods have been a riot of spring flowers, sometime is a bewildering mix; in one day I’ve seen daffodils, primroses, and blackthorn but also bluebells which we don’t get in Lancaster until early May.  However, of all the flowers I think my favourite is gorse, true, it’s not subtle and a bit spiky, but gorse in full bloom is just so damned, in your face, cheerful, yellow!

The spring has also brought out the birds, the hedges and woods are full of the little blighters all singing their hearts out. Mostly they are just voices but occasionally there’ll be a glimpse of a blackbird, robin or something else (this covers about 85% of the avian chorus) flitting from branch to branch. However there is one bird that is both unmistakable and wonderful, sky larks.

Until I walked the Pennine Way in ‘76 I’d not heard a lark, but now their singing is the sound of the open hills and spring and summer.

A gorse hedge along a field, there is something cheerful about a wall of flowers this yellow.

As I mentioned in a previous blog this week saw the two hundred mile mark ticked off, a huge psychological step forward; two hundred down and only 1000 (roughly) to do!

There have also been two other causes for celebration, the first was crossing from Devon into Somerset, a rather low key event when compared to the two hundred mile mark, especially as it happened on the A39 where the path was temporarily routed but it’s an important transition from Scones, Cream and Jam to the much more palatable Cider and Cheese.

Into Somerset, even Arthur was wrapped up against the wind

 The last milestone is a major one, this afternoon, after a 16 mile day, the longest so far, I strolled into the Beach Hotel at Minehead, apart from having a fine bar, it marks the end of the South West Coast Path section of my Land’s End adventure. After three weeks of following ‘white acorn’ way markers and ‘Coast Path’ signs I’m on my own, it feels like I’m leaving an old, if arduous friend behind.

Screen shot of the progress so far, from Land’s End to Minehead, I’m feeling quite chuffed.

 Navigation along the coast path has been pretty easy, it’s well marked, signposted, well trodden and easy to follow at Minehead all that stops, ahead I’ve got a few days of the newly opened ‘English Coast Path’ and then have to strike inland around Bridgwater then off into the Quantock and Mendip Hills in search of real Cheddar Cheese and a way round Bristol, the first major conurbation I need to circumnavigate.

I’ll also be starting it on my own, Sandra, the Queen of Support is leaving me for a few days to enjoy Sophie and Michael’s wedding up in South Shields.  Have a good one you two!  This means I’ll be doing my own support, driving the van for half day walks and using buses where possible, although so far the summer timetables have been noticeable by their absence.

For any one keeping track of the walk statistics, here’s this week’s update.

Total for week:-     62.56 Miles        8,265 Feet of Ascent,                     137,090 Paces,                  26.75 Hours of Walking.

Total to date:-        217 Miles           30,630 Feet of Ascent,                   493,760 Paces,                  99.5 Hours of Walking.

 Land’s End to John O’Groats walk 17.3% completed.

 This has turned into a bit of a monster blog, I’ll try smaller and more frequent posts.

Minehead, a less than inspiring picture but an important milestone.