The M5, a road to love and a road to hate and our last trip down it was one to hate! A lorry fire between junctions 20 and 21 brought the road to a standstill. This is the one time when satnavs are shown up at their worst. Google’s, “You are still on the fastest route,” will haunt my dreams for many months. Thank goodness for OS maps, as we navigated through the narrow lanes of the Somerset countryside. I will relent and say that Google maps was useful as it pointed out the amber and red zones of traffic build up, as we meandered for over an hour through those narrow country lanes. We met Andrew and Caroline at the Old Post Office, our base for the next four days, only half an hour late! This was our last trip down the M5; after 4 1/2 years our route to the South West Coast Path will change. As Dorset beckons so does the A34 and that main artery that is the M5 has become redundant as our journey moves further east. Am I sad to see it go? No. It’s a mindless road where familiar landmarks, such as service areas, half-built incinerators and massive logistic warehouses are markers of our progress south. Its main redeeming feature is the end, Exeter, and the gateway to some of the most beautiful coastal scenery and national parks.

Branscombe Mouth, more recently known for the stricken container ship the MSC Napoli and the free-for-all scavenge of the flotsam, which included BMW motorbikes, perfume, car parts etc… unfortunately there was no flotsam left for the four scavenges that made their way up from Branscombe Mouth to Hooken Cliffs, which were formed in a landslide in 1790. The scenery changes here from the low sandstone cliffs to the dramatic white chalk of the Jurassic Coast.

As we turn into Seaton Bay, the fishing village of Beer comes into view, a regimented place of patterns and order not to be disturbed by a group of wet and bedraggled unruly walkers. I felt we were imposing on someone’s private world, a world lost in a year of the Covid desert.

The rest of the walk to Seaton was ‘pleasant’, and although Seaton is not the typical Cornish town we’ve walked through, to its merit, it has the longest standing concrete bridge in England! From Seaton it was just a short walk to Axmouth, through the golf course and over the hill.

A special treat awaited us, a meal out in a pub: unfortunately, a bit of a cold, faceless pub with little or no atmosphere. Covid appears to have made many businesses distant and unable to connect with their customers; a shame as it should have been a time when the opposite happened, but the regimented rules meant no smile or greeting, just a list of do’s and don’ts… the food, though, was OK and the company excellent.

The next section of the SWCP between Axmouth and Lyme Regis, comes with a warning. Here the path runs through the Undercliffs National Nature Reserve. Quote from a sign at the beginning of this section – ‘The Path runs for over 5 miles through the reserve and it takes most people 3 to 4 hours to complete, without any intermediate paths leading to the beach or main road’. A warning that intrigues. It was one of the most interesting and fascinating sections of the Path so far, part of the Dorset and East Devon ‘Jurassic Coast’ World Heritage Site, one of the most important and active coastal landslide systems in Europe. A section of the walk that passes through a 25 million year timeline spanning the late Triassic to early Jurassic Periods. Well, that’s what the bumf says, anyway. For me it was a landscape so different from any that I’ve walked in before, running through fissures and ridges, twisting and turning through the lush green vegetation. I think we walked open mouthed looking at the numerous plants, trees and wildlife that could very well be unique to these cliffs.

Lyme Regis, famous for the harbour called the Cobb, but most of all a welcome place to stop for lunch after 3 odd hours of walking. Instead of following the SWCP proper we followed the high-water line to Charnmouth searching for fossils amongst the newly fallen landslide. As the tide receded the walk along the beach was a pleasant change from the wilderness of the Nature Reserve, seeing history unfold, both ancient and modern, with every step.

We finished the day on top of Stonebarrow Hill looking across to the Golden Cap, the first and highest hill of tomorrow’s walk.

The following day saw the weather improve. One of those ‘Simpson’ skies, dark blue with white fluffy clouds. The Golden Cap looked close, very close, but as always the SWCP, gives a wry smile and between us and our goal were numerous hidden, small, steep valleys. They just appear, deep, slowly sapping both morale and strength. However, the view on this clear day, from Portland Bill along Chisel Beach back to Lyme Bay and Dartmoor was worth the climb.

The path to West Bay from the Golden Cap was undulating, passing through Seatown, basically a giant caravan site and then through Eype Mouth and onto West Bay, famous for its part in the TV drama Broadchurch and for those that are a little older, the beach scene from The Rise and Fall of Reginald Perrin. Again, another town that appears to be out of place and time along the path, but more importantly it was the start of 6km of the most soul-destroying walking, along Freshwater Beach (the start of the 30 km that is Chesil Beach) that certainly three of us had ever done. I think that breaking trail in knee deep fresh snow, just beat it for me.

You could see along the beach forever; Portland Bill looked just a short distance away and we knew our car was considerably closer. But the shingles appeared to go on and on and on… with every step your foot sank into the stones, taking three times the effort that a normal step would take. We were all exhausted by the time the car crept up on us and tomorrow’s start looked to continue in the same vein!

The final day of this trip the weather changed again, high winds and rain filled clouds. It’s been a strange start to the Summer: April was dry and sunny; May, however, has been one of sunshine and showers, cold winds and low temperatures. And to top it all the thought of those strength sapping pebbles was enough to make a grown person cry.

The first 200m was the hell we all thought it was going to be and the thought of another 4km was unpleasant, to say the least. Then to our surprise the shingle path turned into a track and then a road… so from one sort of path I hate onto another sort of path I hate! Our pace quickened, however, and the Swannery at Abbotsbury brought a welcome latte and for some a sausage cob and caramel shortbread!

We climbed steeply from the Swannery onto a ridge exposed to the ever-increasing wind and threat of rain, but the end was in sight… all was calm.

We meet again in 10 days’ time for our penultimate section of the SWCP, a year later than expected, but the Champagne is cooling, waiting patiently for completion.