(With apologies to Manfred Mann)
Nineteen months after our last walk we were back on the path. Then we were confident we had covered 500 miles, so had 130 miles left to Minehead. Disappointingly we found that Poole had sneaked back towards us and that we had yet to reach the 500 mile mark. There were other disappointments. The team was diminished by one: Martin had done something bad to his heel during his summer tramps and could not manage long stretches.
We talked about solutions to his heel damage. We asked him where he would take his heel to get it repaired. He was apparently going to take it to an orthodontist. This might explain why the problem had persisted. Whatever the long term solution he was out of the walk for most of the time. But he and Sally did a magnificent job of collecting the two of us at the end of most days.
We were ensconced in a holiday cottage, the sixth in the series. It was comfortable and well equipped for six – the support team of Anne, Wendy, Martin, Sally and Milo and the walkers Richard and I. The prospects for the week varied from ‘easy’ (a small bit of it) though ‘moderate’ to ‘severe’. We have had trouble with these adjectives before because they don’t always line up with reality. I was fervently hoping this would be the case in the ‘severe’ section from Bude to Hartland Quay.
On Sunday 19 September Wendy delivered us to Crackington Haven. Anne stayed behind to continue her forensic overview of the government reshuffle. We started with a stiff climb to remind us where we were. Richard had donned a Manchester Business School t-shirt to make himself feel young. The weather was pleasantly warm. It was a propitious start. Richard felt lightened by the occasion and recited Seamus Heaney’s Postscript. His memory was impressive and the words as good a description of the Cornish coast as of the west of Ireland.
In our six days of walking we got closer to Minehead .
and crossed the border from Cornwall to Devon.
We left Cornwall on 21 September, two years and eight months after we had started in the county. Cornwall contains 312 of the SW Coast Path’s 630 miles. Crossing the border felt like a significant achievement.
Sometimes the signs left us puzzled.
As we walked on the first day we saw spectacular rock formations, wonderful long beaches, ancient woodlands and challenging climbs and descents. That was the menu for most of the walk.
The prize for most interesting rock has to go to Blackchurch Rock.
Below the cliffs the long stretches of beach looked attractive and inviting. It was warm enough for lots of people to be out and for the surfers to swarm.
On the top of the cliff there were long stretches of weathered old woodlands, made up of oak, beech and ash.
And of course there were the steep climbs and descents. The section from Bude to Hartland Quay was indeed severe. It warranted the adjective. The sharp valleys had tiny streams at the bottom, but they had managed to wear the rock into challenging shapes.
At the top of these steps the view was of the first two steps and then nothing. The convex hill concealed the rest of the steps in an alarming way. Others had their own special features.
Along our 45 mile walk there were interesting landmarks and stories.
Sally and Martin lived on a small farm here in the 1980s. When they picked us up after the first day we went in search of the house which sits hidden in a dip. After some false starts we found a spot where the house could be seen and Sally took a shot for posterity.
Above Bude Richard leaned in a proprietorial way on the lookout at Compass Point. This was built in 1840 but moved inland later to escape erosion. In its new position it is 8 degrees off true – why?
Down in the town is the sea lock which was the entry to the Bude Canal. This originally reached Launceston and mainly carried seaweed inland as fertiliser. Now only a small but attractive stretch remains.
Bude delivered good ice creams and Richard had to send a picture to Matthew and Emily in Singapore. They had recently been to an ice cream museum there.
We were missing the Bird Whisperer as we walked. But he met us in the valley of Tidna Shute. Within seconds a peregrine falcon dived past us. It’s not clear whether he summons the birds or we just miss them – a mystery. Martin’s main interest here though was to show us the last valley in Cornwall in which the British Large Blue butterfly had lived. It is now extinct.
Climbing out of the valley we met Sally and friends Ian and Sally – confusing. They had moved down to Cornwall shortly after Martin and Sally in the 70s and have been there ever since. Lots of chat preceded a good drink at the Bush Inn.
At the start of the next day Richard and I had a look at the church – the Church of St Morwenna and St John the Baptist. The parish and church were taken in hand by a charismatic vicar – the Rev Robert Stephen Hawker – in 1834. He is described on the thatsmycornwall.com site as “Romantic poet, professional eccentric, a compassionate clergyman with a penchant for opium”. He wrote ‘The Song of the Western Men’ (.. ‘and shall Trelawny die?’). He made his own decisions whatever the rules. He arranged for the drowned victims of the wreck of the Caledonia to be buried in the churchyard and erected the ship’s figurehead above them. A replica is still there.
He also modeled the vicarage chimneys on church towers significant to him. They are being tended and repaired.
We were on our way again. After crossing stepping stones we met one of the oldest inhabitants.
At the end of the day the beer at the Wrecker’s Retreat tasted good.
We watched two young local men swim out to an offshore rock. They rode the incoming swell in order to grab the rock and climb up it. They then jumped off the rock and came back for another round. The swell was gradually increasing. Just as it began to look very dangerous, they swam ashore. It was an impressive combination of local knowledge and good timing. The pictures are less impressive but show the action.
Leaving Hartland Quay we looked at photographs of the filming of parts of Rebecca in 2019. There was also the boat in which she was drowned in the film.
At Blackpool Mill we met a noisy robin sitting on a wrinkled roof.
Then on to Hartland Point passing more locals on the way.
Sadly the lighthouse on the point was covered in plastic sheeting. But it was intriguing to learn, if indeed it is true, that Ptolemy called the point the ‘Promontory of Hercules’. Beyond the point we could suddenly see the coast of Wales.
Walking east was easier than the earlier part of the walk. Approaching Clovelly we walked through well-kept parkland with hundreds of pheasants. On the hill stood Clovelly Court where Anne had stayed as a child. We passed the steep descent into the town, leaving a visit for another day. Then we had a real treat – two and a half miles of the Hobby Drive which is level and even. My fanciful brain imagined the family racing up and down on their new hobby horses. The reality is more prosaic. It was so named because of the obsession of the then owner Sir James Hamlyn Williams in building the carriageway.
Further along the drive we could see Clovelly through the trees.
Our last day took us from Buck’s Mill to Greencliff. After a steep climb out of the village we were walking in woodland. We came down for lunch on Babbacombe beach. On the beach was a large quantity of drift wood, all concentrated in a small area. Some combination of wind and tide neatly sweeps it up in a heap for beachcombers.
We left the path for Greencliff Farm. Ahead of us lay the much flatter country of Westward Ho! and beyond. Behind us cloud collected for the cold week ahead.
We enjoyed a great week. Only half a day of rain broke up the pleasantly warm walking weather. We had chosen well as the following week was suddenly cold, wet and windy. So had all the other people who enjoyed this delightful coastline.
We think we have now covered 543 miles leaving 89 miles to Minehead. Planning for the next week in late March 2022 was underway in the cottage. Although we only covered 45 miles we had all enjoyed being out in the Cornish air again.
Pensioners on The Path 