Day: 119 18/7/94 East Portlemouth to Torcross

Weather: Fine but blustery         Distance: 18km (11.2 miles)        Total Distance: 1481 miles

Since there was no public transport to East Portlemouth and because I wasted to make an early start so I could join the family in the afternoon, I caught the bus to Salcombe and then the first boat of the day over to East Portlemouth.  There was no sign of the small ferry to start with but it soon appeared as did one other person who seemed to be using the ferry as a means of going to work.  What a great commute!

The tide was out so for the first part of the walk I was able to walk along the beaches rather than along the country lanes.  At Mill Bay however I had to cut up at the back of the beach, festooned with sailing boats and onto the National Trust path which gave good views back over the river to Salcombe and South Sands.  It still seems a very sobering thought that a couple of days later, while we were still on holiday in the area, the police found a body of a young waitress on the coast path next to the YHA on the other side of the river.

I took the lower path option and again it was the path with the most climbs and dips.  This first section of the walk was in very isolated picturesque countryside and took quite a bit longer than I thought it would because of the fairly tough going.  It was however a relief to be walking in such a beautiful area compared with yesterdays walking, which although along quiet roads hadn't been all that scenic.

Part of a rusting wreck of a tanker dominated the view at Gammon Head.  The front part of the wreck had been salvaged, but apparently once the rear section was reached it was thought too dangerous to proceed any further with the salvage operation. 

The geography at Maelcombe was very unusual.  The cliffs themselves were a couple of hundred yards inland; in front of them was a flat plane which was being farmed very successfully and then just a short drop down to the sea.  It was as if someone had just pushed the cliffs inland out of the way.  The walking as much easier along this section since it was flat.

I had thought the beach at Lannocombe would be worth seeing because my wife had spoken to some people who had been there, but I was disappointed;  it was small and grey with only a couple of cars there full of people sheltering from the wind and overcast skies.  I subsequently advised her later that it probably wasn't worth the long trip down on narrow roads to visit it.

After some more cliff top walking I arrived at Start Point, though I didn't venture all the way out to the lighthouse.  A tarmac path led northwards and then a path led to Hallsands.  I passed the hotel where I had looked into self-catering but it was expensive, so we'd chosen Kingsbridge instead.  Hallsands itself appeared a little dilapidated.  On he way down to Beesands the path went through a stretch completely covered by tall dense hedges making it very dark inside.

Beesands has a steep beach covered in tiny pebbles with a single row of cottages along the front.  At the far end of the long beach the path turned in land, past a house, and climbed steeply around a disused quarry.  Although the climb was steep and at the end of a days walking it was pleasant and enjoyable.  The path then dropped down into Torcross.

I was some 40 minutes early for the bus back to Kingsbridge, so I found a good tea shop just down an ally by the bus stop and went in and grabbed the last table.  I eventually managed to order a cream tea and ended up having to rush it, afraid that I would miss the bus.  People were whispering that the very well spoken young waitress looked like Barbara Streisand and I had to agree.

I took the bus back to Kingsbridge and then walked the ten minute walk up to High House Farm and our cottage.  As I was walking up it was starting to drizzle which turned into more persistent rain soon.  This meant that we stayed inside in the afternoon, which did not matter much as we were all tired so took it in turns to grab a sleep and look after our son.

Later, when it brighten up a bit and stopped raining, we went out for tea at the Fisherman's Arms in Averton Gifford. We had the Fish Pie and our son helped himself to our chips and garlic bread.  Afterwards we went to see the swans and six signets on the River Avon which I had seen on my last walking holiday.

Day: 118 17/7/94 Kingsbridge to East Portlemouth

Weather: Fine and sunny     Distance: 17km (10.6 miles)    Total Distance: 1470 miles

Time for another family holiday near the coast.  We travelled down to Kingsbridge on the Saturday.  It was a good journey considering it was a summer Saturday.  We stopped at Exeter to eat our packed lunch in the sun and then drove the final hour or so arriving at High House Farm not long after three o'clock.  We liked the look of our cottage, one of a series of converted farm buildings. It had a large kitchen/dining room/lounge with two double bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs.  The other people gradually began to arrive including a couple from Warrington staying next door. He was a chatty individual who told me he thought he had the worlds largest collection of hammers, over two thousand!  And I thought I was odd. 

I went for a walk into Kingsbridge over the fields and then down through a housing estate. I went to the Tourist Information Office and bought a bus timetable and then up to the supermarket for fresh milk. I also bought a raffle ticket - from which I heard in November that I won a prize. I was so shocked when they phoned to tel me I had won I forgot to ask what it was.  I was expecting a new car to turn but instead a pyrex dish did - a major disappointment.  On the way back I walked along the main road instead of taking the short cut up through the fields.  Although this was a more unpleasant walk back to the cottage, it was actually part of my coastal walk, being the closest right of way to the coast, and meant that I did not have to walk that 2km the following day.

On the Sunday, I got up early and after breakfast started the weeks walking in earnest.  A walk down to the river and over the bridge bought me to the village of West Charlton. It was not long before I cut off the main road and down through fields down towards the estuary.  A a kind man stopped in a car and offered me a lift. I politly declined after expalining what I was doing. I reckon he must have lived in the isolated house on the banks of the estuary with his wife who I saw later in the coppice, walking her dog.  Once out of the wood, the path initially led along the river bank but soon cut up into the fields.  I got a little lost coming into Frogmore and came upon the main road a little early - I reckon a footpath may have been blocked off.

Once off the main road, most of the rest of the day's walking was on quiet roads, pleasant enough except towards the end where the roads got a little busy and narrow with cars going to the beaches.  The roads around Coombe were very quiet. At South Pool I walked over the stepping stones.  The section after that was hilly and dangerous since the roads were so narrow and busy with cars.  The dip down to the estuary at Goodshelter and then up again was very steep indeed, though we had been warned of that by a friend of ours. 

I caught the ferry back to Salcombe and set about finding the Tourist Information Office where I had planned to meet my wife and son.  As I was passing a tea shop however I heard her call out so went in and joined them for a pancake.  My wife was not overly impressed with the town of Salcombe; a little too twee for her liking, and said we had made the right choice in staying in Kingsbridge, a little more of a normal town.

In the afternoon, we drove down to South Sands along the narrow steep lanes of Salcombe, though I had to sample the local ice cream first from the dairy which was next to the car park at the top of the town where the car was parked.  We stayed at South Sands only for about 30 minutes, since it was so windy making the sand blow in our eyes.  This was enough time for my son to have a play in the sands and throw stones into the sea. 

We drove back through the back roads up to Malborough before returning to Kingsbridge.  

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Day: 117 31/5/94 Salcombe to Kingsbridge

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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Day: 116 30/5/94 Averton Gifford to Salcombe

Weather: Fine   Distance: 20km (12.4 miles)    Total Distance: 1452 miles

After breakfast at Marsh Mills I was ready to head off.  When I was leaving I was hearing a bit more about how the owner was recovering from a head injury sustained from falling off a ladder.  I also heard how he was an Ayrton Senna fan and had been upset by the death of the racing driver.  When I returned to work, I got hold of some posters from Team Courtaulds and sent them to him.  I understand from a letter I received later that they made him feel a bit better.  I hope so.

It was a couple of hundred yards walk up the main road before taking a right turn down a farm track for a mile and then into fields.  The path was adequately marked and it only got rough once in some woods where lots of trees had fallen which were pretty tricky to hurdle over with a rucksack.  The whole route down this side of the estuary was deserted.  I had that feeling I could have been lost in the woods for days.

Bantham was a picturesque village but was already crowded with visitors cars by the time I was walking through.  Skirting the car park the path goes out onto a sand spit and nature reserve with views over the estuary to Burgh Island.  Back along a beach and then up onto the cliff tops for the fist time today.  I experienced a bizarre incident at Thurlestone where I got hit on the leg by a golf ball!  I must admit that although it left a graze, it did not hurt much.  When the golfer eventually came to see if I was OK. The cheek of it all was that he then went to play the next shot, cheeky because if I had not stopped it with my leg it would probably have gone over the cliff!

Thurlestone Sands bought back some memories of when I went there with my parents on a Holiday Fellowship holiday, but not much of it looked familiar, only the rock with a hole in it.  I stopped at the far end of the beach for a cup of tea.  A little annoying detour for 100 yards forced the path inland behind a hotel before it returned to the coast.

At Inner Hope the path goes along the main street of the village, thronging with people on the Bank Holiday Monday.  I thought about a drink in a pub but decided against the crowds, so stocked up with pop and cakes and ate them on a bench overlooking the bay.  I moved on as soon as the ski-jets took to the sea and spoilt the peace.  Bolt Tail was much more peaceful though some of the more energetic holiday makers had strode this far.  The exact path was not always evident and at one stage the path turned into a scramble close to the edge - a bit dodgy when carrying a backpack.

There is not much doubt that Bolt Tail to Bolt Head is a beautiful stretch of coast and a sunny day like this made it even more spectacular.  There were some other walkers out and the only other sign of life was in the fairly crowded car park at Westcliff.  Sometimes the path was steep and crept around headlands with steep drops off to the right.  Not far past Bolt Tail I had caught up with a girl who I guessed was out for short walk from Inner Hope, but she walked almost all the way to Bolt Head at the same pace.  I was impressed because I walked virtually without stopping.

Straight after Bolt Head, it became crowded again with people out for a holiday walk.  Two men on mountain bikes were finding the path a little steep and walked much of it.  There were spectacular views around Sharp Tor.  After Sharp Tor the path became wooded and level with cars parked alongside the road.  It was apparently along this stretch that a girl was murdered a few months later.  A sobering thought.  

I had booked into the Youth Hostel at Sharpiton which during the day time was a National Trust gardens.  It was not far off the coast path but it was a very steep climb up a narrow road. Having my NT card on me I was able to go into the gardens. I drank a pot of tea and had a quick nap on the lawn, not quite the thing to do on a National Trust lawn I guess, especially with ones shoes and socks taken off.  When I awoke I got chatting to a group of elderly people who were amused by my nap taking in the middle of the lawn.  They were walkers and told me that I was wise not to try to cross the River Avon because they knew someone who had lost their husband trying to cross it.

At 5 o'clock the National Trust tea room suddenly emptied and transformed itself into a Youth Hostel.  I took a temporary membership and went to my dormitory, a 20 bed large room with great views across the gardens and estuary.  I had the communal tea cooked by the warden, of savory chicken and rice and a huge pot of tea.  Two other families joined me for tea.  After the joint washing up I went down to South Sands for a drink in the pub/hotel overlooking the beach.  I got talking to a group of people from Bristol who included someone who worked at Berkley power station.  When I went back to the dorm in the hostel I met the only other person in the room, a Canadian who seemed quite caught up with the 50 years since D-day celebrations.  There always seems to be a North American staying in every youth hostel.

Day: 115 29/5/94 Stoke to Averton Gifford

Weather: Fine    Distance:  21km (13 miles)     Total Distance: (1440 miles)

The breakfast at my B&B was good, but I was lessimpressed with the packed lunch which I had ordered; no drink and processed ham sandwiches which even I could not stomach!  I met a young couple at breakfast who were mountain biking; I saw them later at the start of the coastal walk at Stoke getting their bikes out of their car. I thought they would not manage much of the coast, but then they proceeded to turn up again at the mouth of the River Erme; quite how they got there I am not certain.

The walk to Stoke retraced the end of the walk the previous night.  I bought a canned drink off a very miserable person at the caravan site shop and then started the days walk.  Knowing that I would probably not be able to wade the Erme until after lunch, I did not rush the morning but enjoyed the cliff walk.  I stopped for a break at the Erme Mouth beach before going around the next wooded headland to the place to cross the river.

I surveyed where to cross for a while but it was not obvious and it was still a couple of hours before low tide.  It was here I met a couple of middle aged ladies who were also backpacking and waiting to cross the river.  I sat at the side of the beach and waited for the tide.  I saw a couple of men wade across at the wide mouth of the river and the lady backpackers then decided to have a go.  I followed, taking my boots off first; it was cold and in places a strong current but not deep enough to get wet shorts.  I had a chat to the ladies at the other side while putting on my boots.  They were hoping to reach Thurlstone but half expecting to have to get a taxi around the Avon, another tidal river and riskier to cross - I think they probably did.

The next part of the coast was again picturesque with some steep descents and climbs.  Certainly by the time I reached Charlborough, I was wondering if the ladies would make it since when I left them the more inexperienced one was having to stop for blisters.  Charlborough was a holiday resort beach with caravan sites, chalets and the smell of hot dogs.. Failing to find the club house open for a drink, I had a cup of tea from a snacks wagon.  Bigbury was not very exciting and had nothing to entice me to stop, though looking back I should have because by the time I got to the B&B I was tired and very thirsty.

After Bigbury I had to climb up the cliffs again, mainly on the main road, only to loose all the height again when the path dog-legged back down to the estuary an a steep track through farmland.  The path then swung back inland, up again, before levelling off, going through fields and than forming a track across a golf course.  After the golf course the path went down to the estuary again at the farm Hexdown.  I was a bit suspicious about whether walkers were welcome because there was an electric fence across the initial farm path.  At the bottom there was a deserted complex of farm buildings, a strange feeling.  I then came out onto a track through a wooded area - it looked safe enough but I disturbed a large fierce dog at one house. I'm glad it didn't escape. The owner drove pase a few moments later in a 4 wheel drive - looking very suspicious. I thought I had stumbled on a drugs smuggling operation or something.

A climb up the track, past an odd house, bought me back onto the road, and soon after left it again to cross some fields (the path being difficult to follow initially) and then down to the estuary.  The walk along the tidal road up into Averton Gifford was hot but pleasant.  I saw a heron and a family of swans with six cygnets.

I found the B&B without any trouble. It took me only a 50 yards off my track.  I was welcomed with a cup of tea.  My room was large but the place was a little old.  The bathroom in particular was strange, the water that came out into the old cast iron bath had bits in!

I went to the pub down the road, The Fishermans Arms, fairly early, had a couple of drinks and then salmon and potatoes.  A pleasant welcoming pub.  I got talking to a local family who had a child about the same age as Sean.  They had the great grandmother there from London who was in her 70's and looked very fit!  I then went back and watched the highlights of the Grand Prix and The Family by Roddy Doyle before going to bed, well tired.