Something changes in your life once you get to a certain age where your interest in the weather focuses on how good or bad it’ll be for drying your washing. Well today was definitely a good day for putting the washing out and I took full advantage.

My socks and boots were extremely wet from the rain of the day before. I didn’t really notice my feet getting wet at the start of the day, but as time went on and my boots eventually decided that they’d done all they could, the water was let in. It wasn’t terribly bad but I knew that I didn’t want to wear the socks again the next day. Luckily I’d packed two pairs and I could now get these current ones dry.

My rucksack has lots of little lashings all down the front so I managed to put the socks through these. There was a danger I would lose one or both of them. Maybe they’d get snagged on some bushes as I walked by, or maybe they’d just fall off, and I really didn’t want to litter the country with any more of my socks, but it was a risk I needed to take. And it’s paid off, the strong winds of the day, coupled with sunshine for most of the morning and afternoon have gifted me two dry socks. I do like a good drying day.

Excellent night in camp

The decision to stop when I did yesterday turned out to be a good one. The wind continued to get stronger and my feet were getting wetter, so I was glad to get off the path. Colin, the campsite owner, was so welcoming as well, such a nice man, and the facilities at his campsite were excellent. I really wanted a warm shower and his were perfect. I felt very happy sitting in my tent, warm and dry.

So after a good nights sleep I was excited to be up and ready to go by 7am, and then back onto the coastal path for 8am. I’d remembered the last look I’d taken of the route ahead as I’d left the path the previous day and was looking forward to continuing.

My target for the day, to get past Bude, wasn’t actually many miles, but I knew the coastline here is quite a challenge so it was best to have realistic expectations. I secretly hoped to get as far as North Devon but that was really a bit too ambitious.

Hats off to the path builders

Earlier in my life I just assumed paths were there because people walked on them. I always thought it was just the constant footfall that kept the path clear of plants. I didn’t realise that they were actually made. I also used to think that when there were wooden or stone bridges across boggy sections or streams, it was the work of farmers who owned most of the land. I don’t know how much of that I’d got right but I now can see that paths are indeed “made” and I was told by Andrew that these bridges and alike are actually made by volunteers or teams of people who come in to maintain the path. So it’s not just like magic – work does go into them.

The early path today, as I headed to Crackington was amazing. I really enjoyed its intricacies and how it wound around the cliff edges and traversed up and down into and out of the valleys. I was really glad I had fresh feet and legs for this because I was able to enjoy it. I stopped from a while on one of the cliff tops to sit in the sun and upload two of the posts I’d failed to upload due to poor reception. It was really nice to get that done, but also to enjoy the quiet. No one was around yet and I found it really relaxing and I felt very calm. If today carried on this well I thought maybe I would make it into Devon.

A large group of goats kept me company on the climb up to Cambeak. There were some young ones there as well. I did wonder how they knew not to fall of the cliffs at that age. I can guarantee that my kids would definitely have fallen off if not closely supervised. In fact, I’m pretty sure if I told them to stay away from the edge they’d just get closer. Also up here were hundreds of rabbits running around near the complex warrens they’d made at the top of the cliffs in the looser ground.

Who decides

I meet lots of people on the trail. I’ve not yet met anyone unfriendly and everyone says hello. And even when grimacing from the pain of a tough climb or descent, they still manage a smile. I always say hello but I realised today that I don’t think I’m ever the one to start a conversation. It’s always the other person who makes that decision – which I’m fine with – but wondered what that said about me.

I’m perfectly happy to just say hello and ask if they are well. And if they stop and talk to me about anything I’m also happy to do that. In fact I think sometimes I probably talk too much. It’s just I never make that decision, I just leave that up to them. I wonder how that works. Often, if a couple are walking together but one person is more ahead, the leader of the group will just say hello and then the person trailing behind will stop and talk for a while, leaving the leader standing on their own waiting for their partner to stop chatting.

Remember to fuel up

After a morning of pretty perfect conditions and a path that was such a pleasure to walk, I headed down into Crackington. I didn’t feel particularly hungry but I knew I hadn’t really eaten anything yet today, and it was now about 11am, so I forced myself to go into a cafe and get some breakfast. As it was also quite near to lunch time I also allowed myself to have a piece of cake. I figured this would now count as two meals.

I sat outside in the sun and could see how the path I’d just walked descended into the village but then I could see how it climbed out again at the other side. Like it was taunting me with what was to come.

Whilst at the cafe I did a quick check on the status of my socks. They must have been very wet before because despite the wind and sun they still quite damp. I made the decision to keep them hanging from my bag but I was very wary as I didn’t want to lose them. I wondered what was worse, wet socks or no socks. The very good news was that my boots had now pretty much dried out and they felt comfortable.

Let’s push for Bude

Now fuelled up, turns out I was hungry, I set off again. I was very low on supplies but I knew there was a supermarket in Bude not far from the path so I wasn’t worried. I was even thinking that I might treat myself to some more strawberries. I still couldn’t stop thinking about them.

It was about 10 miles to Bude from here, and I knew from all the people I’d spoken to that it was hard going so I vowed to just take my time and enjoy it. I try not to think of it as a whole because I think that would overwhelm me but I’m quite happy to tackle each challenge as it comes. I think there is quote from the Apollo 13 “disaster” where one of the controllers said something along the lines of – don’t lose sight of the goal but concentrate on each problem one at a time. Or something like that – he said it better.

I did find this section quite hard. I remember struggling with it. It felt like I was getting less fit as the trip went on, that my body was getting weaker. I thought I was meant to be getting stronger. But the funny thing, now I’m looking back on it, it didn’t seem so difficult. In fact I’d happily go back and walk it all again.

Changing feel

I can’t put my finger on it but something changes as you walk along. The path since Padstow has had a certain formula really. You go up, and you go down, you go up again, you stay up, then you go down. And so on. But when I think of each section, although really made up of the same formula, they all feel a bit different. I don’t know if it is different or if my mind makes it different because of how I feel. I really don’t know. Maybe its the changing weather, or the time of the day, of if I’ve just had lunch, or if I’m hungry or nervous. I really can’t say, but it does feel different.

Then, just to confirm that I have no idea what I’m talking about, there was a kind of ridge that bridged the gap between two high points of the route. It was like nature had said, “the path has been tough today, here, let me help you a bit”. It was probably quite unremarkable but with large drops on either side it did look a little unusual.

Quite a bit of faffing

I did notice today that there were not that many places along this part of the coast. Not actually on the coastal path anyway. So if you needed to buy food you would have to walk inland for quite a few miles. I was ok though as I had enough to get me to Bude where I would resupply. I think there were a couple of very small places before this but they only had a few houses and no shops. Maybe the odd cafe but these were closed.

Just before Bude though there is Widemouth Bay which seemed very popular and did have some cafes but I didn’t want to stop now as I was keen to get to Bude and then walk further on to camp. Obviously cafes are quite expensive, especially when they have a captive audience, and I’m being semi careful with money at the moment.

I managed to lose the path for a little while when I headed into Bude and it bothered me that I may have missed a few hundred metres of it. In fact I was making a few mistakes here because just a short time later I didn’t turn left over a bridge so ended up having to retrace my steps.

I’d always thought of Bude as being a bit tacky but I really liked it. It’s not at all like I thought it’d be and I would actually come back I think. It looked quite well kept and I was happy to wander around a little. Which was fortunate because after going to the supermarket I spent a while trying to find a water tap as I was running low. No luck unfortunately but I thought I’d probably have enough to get me through the night.

Simple plan

The next steps to my day were quite easy to write but quite hard to implement. I was going to walk a couple of miles from Bude and then wild camp. The problem, it was really windy. I know my tent is quite good and can withstand some wind but on the path it was very strong. So strong that sometimes it would push me sideways while I was trying to walk.

I didn’t worry though because something always comes up in the end. I was just looking out for somewhere away from buildings, flat, no livestock, not overgrown, and out of the wind. Unfortunately that last part was becoming very illusive. I’d heard the wind was going to get worse as well.

Should I stay or should I go

So when I got to Sandymouth Bay I wasn’t sure what to do. There was a sign that indicated that there was a campsite one mile inland, but I’d seen that on my map and it’d looked more like a holiday park with static caravans. I wanted to check again on my phone but I had no reception. So I had a choice, press on and hope, or walk inland, and hope. I decided the wind was a problem that probably wasn’t going to get any better so decided to head inland. I hate walking this far from the path but I thought it sensible.

It was a long walk up hill but I walked it as fast as I could and I came to the site after about 15 minutes. Unfortunately, as suspected it was just a holiday park with caravans. I should have gone in to ask if I could pitch there but I’d lost some of my confidence. I was actually quite annoyed at myself. I checked my map again and saw another campsite about another mile along the lane so I headed off in search of this one. Getting more disheartened with what felt like multiple bad decisions.

I eventually arrived at the campsite and there was no reception but there was a number to call the site owner – a man called Marcus. I got no answer. Then I knocked at the house next to reception, which appeared deserted, and a young man answered and said it was his step Dad’s campsite and it’d probably be all right to just pitch up.

It all felt a bit odd but I had no other options so decided to head into the field and pitch up. And then Marcus appeared. He told me he though I’d been better off pitching on the other side of the bush I was pitching up next to – I was being so stupid, there was a whole camping field next to the one I was in and I hadn’t noticed. Marcus was really nice as well. I’d had a bad feeling and I’d got it all totally wrong. I was actually in a really good camp site.

From good to better

Once relaxed in my tent I started to think about the days ahead. Looking on the map it looked like this bit of coastline wouldn’t have any places to resupply and I would probably need to address that. I noticed there was a coop about a 2 mile walk and procrastinated about whether to walk there and stock up. I really didn’t want to but the alternative would be to run out of food. Eventually I decided I had to so put my boots back on, grabbed my umbrella, and headed out. I actually felt pretty good about it. I didn’t have my backpack so 2 miles wasn’t so far.

About 2 minutes into my journey I was walking down the country lane and a car came by and stopped. It was Marcus and his wife. They were heading off to vote and offered me a lift to the coop. I just couldn’t believe my luck. They were such lovely people and chatted to me and then said they’d pick me up after I’d shopped and they’d voted. So I got a lift back as well, even dropped off next to my tent.

I’d gone from thinking I’d made the worst decision to realising it was one of my best.