I always ask the same question when I pack for each of my trekking holidays. Shall I pack my umbrella. It always ends up coming on the trip but it does tend to get added and removed from the kit list a few times before a decision is made. 

Most back packers probably wouldn’t bring an umbrella, and to be fair I don’t use it much, but I do find that once in camp it’s really useful. Tonight the rain is really coming down and having my umbrella meant I could walk to the chip shop, stand outside while waiting for my order, and get to the shower block and keep myself dry. It’s really good during breaks in walking as well as you can get yourself a bit of shelter. Just a short break from the rain to eat lunch. Apparently an umbrella can also shield you from the sun but that hasn’t been a particularly requirement on this trip.

So in future, I’m not going to hesitate, the umbrella is coming. I’m so glad I’ve bought it on this trip where I’ve definitely had to deal with a lot of rain.

It’s funny because when I went to Scotland I assumed the weather would be awful but it was brilliant. Here the opposite has happened. But I was thinking about that. Yes, it has made the trip more difficult, but I do feel prouder for managing it and carrying on. So I think I’ll look back even more fondly because of all the rain. There’s also something immensely satisfying about putting a tent up at the end of the day and then getting yourself and all your kit inside, into the dry, while the rain starts to pour down. There’s been a lot of that this trip as well.

Dreaming

I’ve been waking up really early on this walking holiday but I’ve always felt quite refreshed when I’ve woken up. I think this is in part because it gets light very early and my tent isn’t one of those with a fancy black out material. I’m finding that I’m dreaming a lot though. I keep on thinking that I’m walking on the path. I’m not sure if I’m dreaming of paths I’ve already walked or I’m making up new paths. But it can be a little distracting and it’s sort of mixing up the walking and sleeping, like I’m sleeping while I’m trying to walk. I did wonder if it’s like dreaming about exams or things you’re worried about, but  I’m not worried about walking. So I don’t think it can be that.

I did plan to take advantage of getting up early today. Sometimes I really take my time in the morning, maybe updating my blog, or just making sure all my kit is how it should be. Today though I really wanted to get moving nice and early. I knew half of the day was going to be quite flat, walking down a cycle lane, but probably a little boring. I had to make my way down to Barnstaple, following the River Taw, then over a bridge, and then back along the river towards the coast, round a military base and then joining the coast again at Crow Point. As it turns out though, my plan to leave early was dashed when I saw Sam and we stood and talked for about an hour. I don’t regret it though, he had so much knowledge and was a really interesting person to talk to. We talked about how we get home after a walk and before long the urge to go on another trek takes hold. He told me he knows it’s about to happen when he starts looking at new gear. I think I might be the same.

I did tell Sam that I wanted to finish, and be in Minehead, for Wednesday evening. This gave me three full days of walking. Sam said he thought I should do it in four days. He felt this would be more sensible. I think he was right, but at this point I had it in my head that I wanted to finish on the Wednesday, so although I should have absolutely listened to him, I decided I was going to push for Wednesday.

Speed walking

I eventually got away from the campsite, bid farewell to Sam, and headed off onto the Tarka trail. Except for my wild camps this had been the most convenient campsite for the coastal path as it was only about 100 yards from my pitch to the trail. So, despite leaving later than I planned, I was making progress straight away. And because it was flat I could walk at a fairly reasonable pace. One thing I always underestimate is how difficult the coastal path is to walk. Some parts are very tough, like the last parts of Cornwall, and some are easier, but I think they are all relatively difficult if you compare them to a flat road. Well, for this section I had a flat road so I was going to take advantage of it and get some miles under my belt.

It was roughly 6 miles to get to Barnstaple, and then probably another 8 to get out, so it was a long way, and not especially interesting, but I didn’t mind too much. Quite early on I spoke to a hiker walking in the other direction and he said he’d downloaded an audio book especially for this leg of his journey. I’d done something similar but was listening to music. It actually wasn’t an unpleasant walk at all. I think because I’d been spoilt by the beauty and ore of the coastal path on the previous days it was easy to dismiss this as being boring, but if I compared it to the walks I do when I’m at home, then it was quite nice.

As I got nearer to Barnstaple I realised that I recognised the bridge that I was going to walk over. It was a major bridge with a busy road but I remembered crossing it in a car when I took the boys on holiday when they were much younger. We’d been camping in Woolacombe and they’d persuaded me to take them to a McDonalds and this was the nearest one. I remembered it being quite inland so I was now a little surprised that I’d had to walk so far away from the coast, but if that’s the official coastal path then so be it. I got to thinking about that holiday all those years ago. I didn’t have much money at the time and it really was a treat going to McDonald’s and I had been mainly cooking myself at the tent. I actually chuckled to myself because I recalled one night at that campsite, when I was preparing our food while the boys were playing in the park. There was a group of tents opposite with a man trying to organise the cooking of a big curry between them all. I remember just watching from my chair while he ran around getting various people to prepare parts of the meal. He was run ragged by the end and I’m really not sure it was worth it. My life was pretty hard work at the time, but he made me and my life look serene.

Parallel universe

I used to work shifts and because of the way the pattern worked I often had to think carefully to work out what day it was. I always knew when I next had to be in work based on the number of days between shifts, but I didn’t really need to know what day it was. I wan’t someone who would look forward to a Friday and dread a Monday because the day of the week had become immaterial. Well, when you’re walking, it matters even less. So it was as I approached the bridge in Barnstaple, and I saw how busy it was, that I realised it was a Monday morning. All these poor people having to join the melee of traffic and go to work. I felt very lucky that I wasn’t involved in that. I was coexisting with these people but our worlds were totally different. I felt honoured that I’d been allowed to bow out for a bit.

As you can tell by the waffle on this post this section was a very good opportunity for thinking time. It goes so far away from the coast and the path is mostly straight, so I just got lost in my thoughts. Some were good, some not so much, some about the past, and some about the future. Not really many thinking about the walk itself, this was just a section that I needed to get through so a good bit of contemplation was definitely the order of the day. It was a relief to finally cross the bridge though and then turn back towards the coast. A good few miles still to cover before I go to Crow Point but I was at least going in the right direction now. The hard tarmac was making my feet feel a little sore but my pace was good so would last too much longer. It did amuse me that this was still classed as a coastal path as I was so far from the coast, I hadn’t seen the sea from quite some time.

I didn’t actually know at this stage how far I was going to travel today or where I was going to stay. My preference was for a campsite, especially as rain was forecast for later, but nothing was decided. I was considering myself quite lucky with the weather because the forecast had been for on and off rain all day but, even though I could see patches of dark clouds around me, so far I’d not been rained on. Maybe, I thought, I’d be able to dodge them all day. My plan really was to see how far I could get. With my aim of completing the trail on Wednesday I knew I had to get quite far up the coast, and pressing on during this less interesting but flat part wasn’t an issue, but after Saunton I’d get the scenery back but also the harder terrain.

At Chivenor the path goes away from the river to go around a military base, then along some paths with loose rocks that run through a wildlife reserve. I could tell I was getting tired here because there were some stiles that I was struggling to lift my legs over – although they weren’t the most user friendly ones I’d ever seem. I think this must be some kind of marshland as the paths are a few metres up on embankments, and then finally into some sand dunes that run to Crow Point. The coastal path itself doesn’t actually run to Crow Point but as it wasn’t too far away I had to walk there so I could take a look at Appledore across the estuary. I found it amusing that I was looking at a place, less than one mile away, that I’d walked through nearly two days ago. The tide was out as well and it looked like I could have just walked across. However, even if that was possible, I said I’d walk the coastal path, the official one, so that was what I had to do. I was a little glad though that this part was completed.

And then it’s gone again

The path heads inland again after Crow Point. This time it’s because of military training areas – I think some training may have been done here in preparation for the D-Day landings – so again I was routed away from the coast and kept just inland. Then through a golf course and, after a short walk on a road, I got to Saunton Sands. I did feel that, despite my many days of walking on narrow paths on the edge of cliffs, all alone, this was probably the most dangerous part of my trip. There as no path so I had to walk on the road and hope no-one ran me over. It was only for a few hundred yards but I didn’t feel very comfortable at this point. So it was a massive relief to get off the road and back onto the coastal path and so grateful to have the sea back.

I was heading towards Baggy Point now and I was very happy. The coast line here is back to the beauty of the previous days and it was a good path. I looked back and could see clearly back to Hartland Point. I wasn’t sure exactly which day I’d been walking around the point but it seemed like a very long time ago. I know just after that point the terrain had got a lot easier following a couple of really tough but enjoyable days and it did feel like so many things had changed since then. It felt a bit like I was looking back in time. I kept on looking back down the coast, at Westward Ho! beach and at Hartland Point, amazed that such a short distance could take so long, but also happy that I’d now completed it. So happy to be back on the coastline and back to enjoying the rugged landscape.

Now though I had decided what to do. I was going to try and reach a campsite at Mortehoe.

You can’t dampen my spirits

I walked around Croyde Beach and I felt a little envious of everyone in the sea and also people getting ready to go in for the evening. No doubt then having a nice meal or going out for drinks. I, though, still had a few miles to cover and my day was far from done. I called the campsite to check if I could just pitch up if I missed the reception closing time of 7pm. I knew it was going to be tight and I just wanted to reassure myself that it didn’t matter if I missed reception. Ideally I wanted to get there on time and pay so I was free to leave in the morning before they opened, I don’t like restrictions on what I can do, so I did push myself to go a bit faster.

Unfortunately Baggy Point did slow me down. I kept on stopping to take photographs and to look back at the coastline. I think I’d missed it. I made a mental note to return here one day when I was under slightly less pressure, maybe having time to stop for an ice cream or something to eat, because the walk around the point was really nice. But not today, I had a campsite to get to, and the rain had started to slowly come down. I felt lucky that it’d waiting until now to start as it’d been due a lot earlier, so I didn’t complain too much. I was, however, keen to get to the campsite and get pitched up before everything got soaking wet.

Putsborough Beech and Wollacome Beach are quite long. I’m not sure where one ends and the other starts, but put together they are a sizeable beach. I was rushing a bit now, which was a shame, and I wasn’t entirely sure how to navigate to the campsite. I knew I’d have to get to Woolacombe, so that was easy, I’d just stay on the coastal path. But after than I’d try to stay on the path as long as possible before turning inland to get to the site. If I’d been a couple of hours earlier, and maybe had not travelled so far, it would have made sense to travel all the way around Morte Point because my campsite was quite near the north coast of Mortehoe, but I didn’t have that luxury so just before I got to Morthoe I had to turn inland and head up a steep hill to find the campsite.

Always time for a cuppa

It was a bit of a slog to the campsite. A lot of climbing, plus I knew I was going to have to come back this way in the morning to rejoin the coastal path. It did feel a bit like wasted effort but I knew once I was set up and fed I wouldn’t mind. I was pleasantly surprised when walking through the village that a couple of pubs were open and a fish and chip shop as well. Sometimes villages and towns around here totally shut down quite early and it’s difficult to get anything so I felt like I’d been lucky. This helped me increase my pace because if I could get to the campsite and set up quickly then maybe I’d have time to treat myself to fish and chips for my tea. It’d make a change from noodles and sandwiches.

I made the campsite with 10 minutes to spare and quickly headed to the camping area. The rain was starting to get quite heavy now so I was obviously keen to get everything set up. As I left reception a lady asked me if it was still open, she said something about a light. I wasn’t really listening but I said it was and I rushed off.

I was starting to pitch up my tent, the rain really pouring down now, when the lady came past me. I asked if she’d managed to get what she needed and she said she hadn’t. She was in a camper van with her husband and grandchild and they wanted to cook dinner but didn’t have any way to light the stove. So I stopped setting up my and went into my rucksack to find the lighter I use for my stove and gave it to her. She said, if it worked, she’d get me a cup of tea. She was grateful because my stuff was getting wet while I was helping her but it really wasn’t a big deal.

A few minutes later my tent was set up and everything was inside it. I grabbed my umbrella, as I wasn’t sure if I was meant to find the lady’s camper van or if she was going to come back to me, and she appeared with my lighter, a pot of tea, and some milk. So my good deed got me a very welcome cup of tea. It does pay to be nice. And they got their dinner. Once back in the tent the heavens opened and the rain poured. I find it such a nice feeling, after a long day walking, to be sheltered from the weather, warm and dry in your tent. I was a happy man. I then topped this off by treating myself to fish and chips followed by a warm shower.

Bad weather isn’t so bad.