Going Home !

Going Home !

Well the decision had finally been made. After struggling even on the flat Tarka I made the call to pull the pin on my walk. While I might have manged the Westward Ho section there was no way I could have taken on Clovelly or Hartland the latter desceibed as one of the hardest days of the entire SWCP.

In no rush I made my way through town and across the old Barnstable bridge to the railway station on the other side of the River Taw

I had ahead of me a 2 hour journey by way of Exeter to Honiton where I could thankfully link up with family and spend the time needed to recover before flying back to OZ in a weeks time.

Although definitely a walk uncompleted the 80 odd KMs I did cover on the SWCP highlighted what a wild and beautiful trail this really is. The views were more often than not simply coastal stunning with the variety of moors, marshland, beaches, cliffs and historic estates more than providing for ample sensory delight.

The beauty also of the Nth Devon section was the number of times that I found myself completely by myself with only wildlife and the sound of crashing waves for company.

With the trail covering over 1,000 kms there is sure to be ample opportunity in the future to further experience this delight.

For the moment though its time to head off for some rehab before jumping on the bike for my next adventure in tge "Stans" come August thankfully this time on bike !

On The Trail !

Reality Sucks !

It really was my last chance. After busing it to Braunton the day before in the hope that a days rest would help heal my ankle and knee it was time to put my body to the test by walking the short and flattish 10km section to Barnstaple.

Having done a basic clean of my self contained accommodation it was barely a 500 metre walk to pick up the Tarka Trail (a prominent cycle / walking trail partly located on disused rail lines) wich would take me all the way in to Barnstaple. 

The initial section was on part of the former Barnstaple -  Illfracombe line sadly closed in 1970. The trail ran through marsh land before going alongside the Commando base at RAF Chivenor and then followed the impressive River Taw as it headed into Barnstaple

It was obvious, particularly after short breaks enroute, that my walking tour was over as even the flat tarmac trail was now causing me significant grief.

Finally hobbling into Barnstaple in the afternoon heat I made my way slowly to my b&b a torruous (for me) 3 storey building with my route taking me up precipitous steps to an attic sized room that had just enough room to put my backpack down and little else.

An afternoon walk to Wetherspoon (a cheap pub chain saw me served with what I consider to be just about the worst worst meal I've ever been served - a chicken burger that tasted like it had been stewing in luke warm ater all afternoon. Despite complaining to the waiter I got no response maybe a reason why Wetherspoons have recently decided to drop social media from its web site.

With my walking trip all but over it was time ti work out how to get back to home base in Honiton.

The Sea Mist Rolls in !

It was one of those life choices that at the time cause considerable internal debate.The wrong choice may not be catastrophic but it certainly wouldnt be welcomed. I''d just left my b&b launching straight into a gut busting 35% climb on a narrow laneway heading out of Combe Martin. Bent over like the Hunchback of Notre Dame I had a close up and personal view of my mud splattered boots now seriously wondering with a gurgling stomach which boot would look the better decorated with my just consumed breakfast ! I'd better make a choice very quickly !

The morning had brought a moment of truth ! The 9kms from Combe Martin to Illfracombe while not exactly flat would give me some opportunity to gauge whether I'd be capable or not of finishing my planned 10 day walk. The doubts in my mind were as a result of the cumulative damage to my knee and ankle caused by the terrain and slippery conditions. With some hard days ahead I could really be struggling !

Well fuelled by my English breakfast (sausage, eggs, beans, mushrooms and a tomato or two) I said goodbye to my friendly hosts picking up the Coastal Path straight out the front door.

Somehow I'd resisted throwing up on the steep climb out of Combe which was now lit in bright sunshine with an evident fast moving sea mist threatening to spoil the days conditions.

Although reported as a heatwave in London (24c) the weather between Combe and Illfracombe soon deteriorated into a whiteout. Despite being told by a National Heritage employee enroute that this section was one of the most spectacular on the whole SWCP I spent the nest 6 odd kms walking cliffside with the only sensory clue to my whereabouts being the sound of crashing waves quite a way below me.

For the 3rd day in a row I met my mate from Lancashire who with his wife were doing day walks by leaving one of their 2 cars at one end of the walk thus negating the need for them to carry heavy packs ( make mental note.. next time bring 2 cars !)

Eventually the sea mist cleared enough for me to make out Hele Bay just short of Illfracombe where I descended to taking up prime position at a cafe on the foreshore and for the first time on walk actually have a civilised cuppa while watching owners dogs frollick along the grey sand beach.

With my b&b in Illfracombe not open until 2.30p.m I took the remaining 2 kms from Hele Bay slowly having to resort to reading in a nearby park (obviously not a common habit going by the strange looks I was getting) before finally checking in and then making my way gingerly to the Illfracombe Harbour and a nearby Wetherspoons for an early dinner.

Based on the amount of hobbling I was doing tomorrows planned 25 km segment to Braunton is seriously in doubt.

Day 3 - SWCP

Day 3 - SWCP

The Hangman Awaits !

If I was using an aircraft style pre trek checklist for body parts this "baby" would be well truly hangered for the day and I would still be in bed !

One ankle was swollen, my toes taking the brunt of my ill fitting shoes were being slowly shredded and a pain behind my left knee was now beginning to emmerge. Despite these shortcomings I was committed to yet another hard day on the trail, 21kms along the spectacular Nth Devon coastline on what was a truly beautiful sunny day.

Leaving Lynton was a delight along the beautiful tarmaced Victorian Nth Walk that wound its way cliffside to the spectacular Valley of the Rocks !

Even the mornings first climbs weren't too bad going along a series of private toll roads through the Lee Abbey Estate to abut some very fine coastal scenery.

The trail then worked its way through a steep valley to Heddons mouth for equally beautiful coastline views.

Some easier moorland walk gave way to the days "Mother" the appropriately called Hangman, at 1034 feet the highest sea cliff in England.

While expecting a bit of a climb from the narrow Valley floor I was unprepared for the steepness of some of its segments a few over 40+% !

More climbing took me to a rock cairn marking the highest point on tHe SWCP before a painful downhill into Combe Martin with its lovely sea side setting and a bustling beach side hotel doing a roaring business on this beautiful day

After raiding the local shop for a much needed drink I set about finding my b&b beautifully located just off the beach with thankfully a large double bed large enough to collapse in to.

After 8 hours on the go it was time to head to the local fish and chip shop and then for a bench seat just off the beach to watch a beautiful sunset to signal the end another tough day on the trail.

Day 2 - SWCP

Re: The Tank is Empty !

It was a slightly ominous start to day 2. The body felt like it had been through the proverbial grinder, the drizzle had already started outside and I couldn't find the bloody milk / fridge in my empty b&b somewhere hidden in one of the 100 or so kitchen cupboards !

Eventually having breakfasted I let myself out, stocking up on some supplies from the village and heading off on what promised to be a long day !

The days walk took me initially through muddy swamp land passing a poignant memorial to a crashed liberator bomber that had crashed nearby during WW2 in bad weather claiming 11 lives.

After a few kms the so called path emptied itself on to the boulder like shingles of Porlock Weir's windswept beach making for a difficult scramble to the small and isolated township.

A significant climb followed leaving the coast taking muddy forest trails crossing smal streams with occassional spectacular views not only of the cliffs but also of the distant shoreline of Wales.

Near Countisbury common i emmerged to a self serve (honesty) outdoor cafe ! Well it might have only comprised an esky, a thermos, an honesty box and a couple of fold out chairs but this was a godsend after 5 hours of walking in the rain.

Grateful for the cuppa I continued refreshed finally taking in stunning views of distant Lynmouth amidst a strikingly wild coastline.

With the energy levels depleting ralidly I finally made it to Lynmouth, site of the 1950's flood disaster that claimed 40+ lives, and its Cliff side water based railway not daring to look up in case the railway was still out of action as a result of a recent landfall

Thankfully the railway had just returned into operation the day before and I gladly paid my 2 pound fee exclaiming to the ticket collector that I woukd have gladly paid 100 for the precipitous 800 metre clumb up to Lynmouth.

With some good directing I exited the railwway and limped up to my well located b&b where the kind lady checking me in provided me a bottle of glue for my deteriorating boots and a bottle of Radox for a much needed relaxing bath !

Slightly recovered and feet rebandaged I limped (recurring theme) to the local fish and chips shop befre headng off to the beautifully quaint Lynton cinema where I could finally relax .