‘Roads to Hell’, a strange title for a walking blog! The reason I mention it is that much of our time is spent, in the morning, driving a car to the end of the walk for that day then driving the other car to the beginning and vice versa at the end of the day. This can mean not an inconsiderable amount of time spent on the road. I say ‘road’ in the loosest sense of the word! The ‘A’ roads in this part of Devon are not much better than a normal ‘B’ road and any other road is just a narrow track. During the process of planning the walk, I have chosen what I considered to be the ideal place to finish. What I failed to take into account was getting a car there. It appears that cars are yet to be invented in this part of Devon! ‘C’ roads (white roads on an OS map, which generally you would avoid at all costs) are the only means of access to my well-planned finishing points. Picturesque they are, driveable they are not. My car copes well with the deep potholes, the 12 inches of grass growing up the middle and the sometimes degeneration of the metalled road into a dirt track. The only problem is the width and the unforgiving nature of the high sided, 10 foot thick stone walls, which are covered in undergrowth! Andrew’s car, however, is considerably lower than mine with smaller wheels. On the plus side, though, it is slightly narrower. The size of the vehicle, though, is irrelevant if you meet another vehicle coming the other way. It’s sometimes a problem even if it’s only a pedestrian coming in the opposite direction. Locals, of course, are used to rat runs and do not give way, slow down or make any allowance whatsoever for us poor nervous tourists.
The other frightening side to these roads is the fact that there are three other ‘drivers’! ‘Braking’, taking sudden intakes of breath, shouting and gesticulating and warning you that there’s a car coming towards us… this doesn’t happen on a normal road but seems to be acceptable on a road where the driver is having to concentrate and anticipate far more than usual and is the cause of much muttering under your breath and sudden braking when not really necessary! This is what it was to be like for the next four days and I don’t doubt will reconvene on the first day of our next trip.
Anyway, the first day was a gentle walk to the Erme Estuary. It’s the only estuary that we actually cross over on foot, with no stepping stones, boardwalk or bridge. There is one proviso, this has to be done one hour either side of low tide! We were due to finish the walk on the south bank and the following day cross the estuary to the north bank; however, we happened to finish at low tide, so to save a really early start (I mean walking by 6:30am) the next day we crossed just to say that we had done it and the following morning parked our car on the north bank.
The following day blurred somewhat into the first as the path undulated its way to Burgh Island and its famous art deco hotel, which has appeared in many an Agatha Christie novel.
It’s not a section of the SWCP that stands out, but it is a section that is a pleasure to walk, with its undulating hills, long winding estuaries and golden beaches. It’s designated as an area of outstanding natural beauty and is thought to be one of the most beautiful sections of the SWCP; I’m not going to argue with that as better people than I obviously think so… but me, I still prefer the more rugged north Cornwall and Devon coast!
One particular highlight, though, was the ferry crossing from Cockleridge to Bantham: a beautiful, secluded estuary made all the better by the near perfect weather. Again, though, it was a bit of a logistical nightmare: the ferryman only worked between 10am – 11am and 3pm – 4pm. Not a big window to aim for, but not blowing my own trumpet too much, my timings were perfect!
We were to finish the day very close to where we were staying and hadn’t parked the car at the end. Instead, I went off to fetch the car only to find a little brown dog following me! Lottie has walked off with me on a couple of occasions over the last couple of years, but I was a little dubious that she wouldn’t at some point wonder where Andrew and Caroline were and double back. I have to admit I was a little surprised that she stayed with me all the way without looking back once! Maybe I do have at least one friend!
The next day started slightly differently from normal. Andrew and I took our return transport to Gara Rock, our finishing point of the day, whilst the girls walked down to our starting point at Outer Hope and slowly made their way without us… fortunately, I was carrying our lunch, which, knowing Carolynn, would mean that at some point along the path she would definitely stop and wait for me. If I hadn’t got that ace up my sleeve, I’m not sure whether we’d have ever caught them up! We did, however, and fairly quickly. It seems that they decided that an extra cup of coffee and slice of toast was the order of the day before leaving the Airbnb! The path, true to form, stuck to the coastal cliffs that undulated gently until we reached Salcombe, a beautiful town made up of yacht clubs and exclusive hotels, villas and houses. As with many Devon and Cornwall coastal towns, it’s a place of one season; the difference is its exclusivity, with its designer shops and houses. Many of these towns have lost their hearts and survive only on the titbits that the summer season brings.
We crossed the estuary and as with so many estuaries that we have crossed, doubled back heading once again towards the sea. It can sometimes feel a little demoralising as you turn back towards the coast and the opposite bank is only 100m away and we’ve had to walk four or five kilometres! The end of the day is Gara Rock, in the middle of nowhere, with one of the nicest hotels I’ve seen. Cream Tea… shame not to!
The final day is along a section of rugged and sometimes exposed cliff top paths. We walk as one, changing partners regularly as the conversation ebbs and flows. This is the rhythm that has set in over the last couple of years.
Conversation isn’t important, what is important is the company and the feeling of contentment that nature can exude. We finish the walk at Start Point, a rugged peninsula that looks out over the sweeping golden sands of Start Bay, the path that we will travel along in September.
More importantly Start Point is the only place other than the halfway point that there is a signpost showing the distance to Minehead and to Poole!
NEARLY THERE…