Day: 112 1/5/94 Saltash to Plymouth

 Weather: Fine      Distance:  18km (11.2 miles)    Total Distance: 1401 miles

It was a little difficult to wake up since I had enjoyed the previous evening in the pub!  The campsite was now fuller and I had talked to quite a few of the people there so I decided it was safe not to pack up the tent and leave it where it was. I drove to the station and left the car there and started the days walk.  The first part was quite frustrating because it was hilly and almost around in a circle before I found a way onto the Tamar Bridge.  The bridge is high above the river and free to pedestrians.  I remembered on the other side by the toll booths a story I had been told about how the toll collectors had a scam of only declaring a fraction of the cars that passed through the toll and pocketing most of the money and living in luxury.  Their scam had eventually been blown and I guess they had been replaced and a new system introduced.

 

Once off the bridge I doubled back on myself and dropped down to the estuary under the massive pillars of the bridge.  Riverside had a promenade and grassy area and was the nicest part of the days walk.  I cut up through a private residential area and then cut across into a housing estate.  I was relieved to be walking this section on a quiet Sunday morning.  This housing estate was navy owned so was comparatively tidy and well kept, some of the estates I would pass through later in the day were much more depressing.  Access to the southern part of this little peninsula was bared because it was navy property.  I was glad to have the Plymouth road map to work from.  The later part of this estate was grim.  Under the railway, I was on a main road full of shops. I crossed the road and bought snacks and went to the loo.

 

Back on the walk I was fortunate enough to realise that the railway viaduct had a walkway next to it which saved me a stretch.  The path came out on another main road going though a much older area and past the Devonport dockyards guarded by some impressive walls.  The next couple of miles through were more grim estates which were now coming to life. 

 

At Mutton Cove however I got even more depressed by seeing some anglers ripping down a metal fence and throwing it into the sea, all to give themselves a more comfortable place to fish and ignoring the fact that the fence was there for the safety of the children who used the grassy area.  Around the corner from that three young girls approached me and asked if they could walk with me because they had been threatened by a man because they were sitting on a boat.  They walked with me a while before we passed the danger area, then I went over the bridge and down towards Western King Point.  The roads here were crowded because it was the leaving point of the ferry over the estuary to Mount Edgcombe Park.  Having seen what was on this side I was not surprised to see so many people escaping over to the other side.

At Western King Point it was more pleasant and I stopped for a tea and doughnut and ate it in the sun outside a kiosk.  For some reason the way around this peninsular was blocked and I ended up back-tracking past the kiosk again and inland.  Around the dock and seawards again bough me to the busy area of the Hoe.  Although it was extremely crowded here, the sort of place I would normally get very annoyed with, I was more content since it was more pleasant than what I had passed earlier in the day.  The beaches and promenade were full of a mixed age group of people.  At the eastern end there was a attempt to make it into a marina type area.  Once up into the town I found out where the bus station was but walked on a bit to find a convenient place to park the car tomorrow.  Back at the bus station which was in an underground area, I went to enquiries, only to be told that the bus to Saltash left from the main road above.  I picked up a timetable for the bus back at the end of tomorrow's walk.

The bus back to Saltash soon arrived and we rode along some of the bits I had walked along earlier in the day.  In Saltash I popped into a supermarket for a can and also picked up a cheap Wombles video for Sean.  Back at the camp site I lay on a blanket in the sun and relaxed for a while before having a shower, calling home, and then going for tea in the Little Chef services.

 

After tea, I went to Saltash Baptist Church, after calling Margaret and Sean from a telephone box outside the church, I was recently built church not dissimilar to Lawrence Saunders but smaller, and had replaced one burnt down on Christmas night one year by a down and out trying to keep warm.  There was a warm welcome from the small congregation.  The service was short because it was followed by a hymn singing session in the park at the other end of the town as part of the Saltash Festival weekend.  The wind had got up and it was now chilly to say the least.  The minister at the church had been told he was acting as link man between the hymns but it turned out that the committee has meant he was only to say a few closing words - a case of misunderstanding.  The hymn singing was led by the brass band without any links apart from the hymn titles!  I sang heartily with those from Saltash Baptist Church to keep warm.    

 

Back at the camp site I parked the car and then walked briskly down to the pub to warm up.  The man I had been chatting to the previous evening came in with the two young lads, one from RAF in Wiltshire.  They had been taught how to fly fish by the elderly man on a rowing boat on a reservoir.  They were even more sun-burnt than I was.  They could not resist bringing in their catch, about four each, to show us all.  It was a pleasant night but I did not stay too long since I wanted to be in a fit state to get up early and pack the tent away etc.