Weather: Fine Distance: 12km (7.5 miles)
Total Distance: 1460
miles
I woke up early at the Youth Hostel with sun pouring in through the tall windows and a good view across the estuary. The Canadian lad was also up early and packing to leave. I washed and packed quickly and did not stay for any breakfast - mainly because I did not have anything! The days of having to do a job in the mornings at Youth Hostels has now gone so I could leave with a clear conscience.
The day began with going back down the very steep hill again and into South Sands. The road then swept into Salcombe took another few ups and downs. The road was in fact marked as being closed for cars and it soon became apparent why, because a bridge has collapsed. A temporary footbridge had been erected fortunately, otherwise it would have meant a steep detour.
The narrow streets of Salcombe were
peaceful except for a couple of newsagents open and a collection of delivery vans
and street cleaners. I tried to imagine
how in another two hours the scene would be very different. The north end of Salcombe changed from a twee
tourist town to a working boat community, though much of it based on the
pleasure boat industry. Once out of the
town I stopped to eat my breakfast - a can of pop and a couple of
biscuits. Walking up the estuary to
Batson I was unsure if I could walk down the other side. I saw someone in a porch putting on their
walking boots so asked them. It turned out that I could walk all the way down
to the headland past Sharps Manor along good footpaths, but when I turned
northwards again my way was blocked to Lincombe because the path was closed to
protect breeding birds. I feel much less aggrieved about closed footpaths if it
is for a good reason and that reason is explained.
Quite a lot of the remainder of the
walk was on minor roads except for a couple of footpaths that cut off
corners. One such path led around the
back of Ilton Castle Farm, not terribly
well marked and I walked through the camp site annoying the camper's dogs.
Most cars had been very good at slowing
down when they saw me, but one lady coming down the hill north of
Blanksmill Farm, appeared determined not to loose speed for her ascent up the
other side and sped past me cowering in the hedge.
The road into Kingsbridge was not all
that picturesque, and the only highlight was a kestrel flying around the
telegraph poles. I walked into
Kingsbridge which was a bit of a shock having been out in the countryside for
four days. The town was bustling. The
car park along the river bank was full, this had been transformed into a fair
ground next time we came down as a family. In fact
next time I returned, the whole town looked quieter but I am convinced this was
only in my imagination.
I was some three hours early to catch
the bus to Plymouth, but there happened to be one about to go. I thought about spending time in the town and
looking for the pace we had booked for our summer holidays, but instead decided
that I did not like the crowds and caught he early bus into Plymouth. The ride was bumpy. The bus called into the Shire Horse Centre
and through a couple of the villages I had already walked through.
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