At the car park near The Glass Box three persons… trying to be politically correct, I promise it will be the only time… and their dog went to start the walk – the intelligent amongst you know that should read ‘four persons and their dog’. We appear to be a man down. All that back slapping and self-conscious laughing that Andrew and I did when he fell yesterday didn’t stop his ankle from swelling and making normal walking painful. So, today it’s three of us and Lottie that start the second day.
Today we tackle the highest point of the South West Coast Path (in future to be called SWCP), Great Hangman Hill. As the crow flies, a very straightforward walk from our starting point, in reality though, geography had a different insight in how ‘the crow flies’ is interpreted. A crow, as you know, can fly, however, for some reason we struggled to get any real or imagined lift. It seems a crow is better adapted at this flying lark than we are. It soon became apparent that walking up inland valleys, back to the coast, down and then steeply up again would be the only way to reach Great Hangman’s Hill. I strongly suspect that anyone sentenced to be hanged there died of exhaustion long before the summit was reached or maybe they only ever reached the lesser summit of Little Hangman Hill. I suppose it might have depended on what sort of view you wanted during your last throes of life! Or as Monty Python suggested, ‘Always look on the bright side of death’ and with the exceptional view gained from the summit, I’m sure the penitent did.
We met up with Andrew at Combe Martin and had lunch in the coolest place… in the shadow of a wall in a public car park. Yes, I was using the word coolest in its original form as the heat was becoming quite oppressive. The afternoon was spent leisurely walking along a beautiful section of coast, up and over small bluffs, in and out of inlets and peeking down into hidden coves. The sting in the tail was Fort Hillsborough, a 100m climb from sea level only to descend 100m back to sea level in Ilfracombe. Again the day didn’t finish as all walks should, instead it finished at our lodgings, where I have to admit the warm bath nearly went down as well as a pint.
Talking about pints, Carolynn has never in the thirty odd years I’ve known her, been known to order a pint. Well, pick me up, slap me around, hang me by my feet and make me sing Bye Bye Baby by the Bay City Rollers, did she order a pint of lager shandy! I was dumbfounded. I thought I’d married a lady, not some roughen from Nunsthorpe! I had to share this revelation as I think it will become one of those pivotal moments in my life, a day I’ll remember, the day my wife became my drinking partner!