The hardest thing about a hiking trip, probably obvious if you think about it, isn’t actually the walking. The walking is certainly a fundamental part. If you can’t walk the distance then you’re definitely going to struggle. But I find something else really difficult and people I’ve met on the trail tend to agree with me. It’s making sure I have enough food and water. In a close third is finding somewhere to sleep but that worry tends to only engage after 5pm.

I was trying to get to at least the half way point between Mortehow and Minehead so I knew I needed to cover at least 26 miles but the route did take me through Ilfracombe and that would give me ample opportunity to get food. I was also running low on water but I’d pick up a litre at the campsite and then, before camping for the night, pick up some more. Now, I’m not sure if it’s due to my advancing years, but I often seem to forget about the water. I had remembered to load up at the campsite, which was good, but it was quite a tough day and I was drinking quite a lot, so when I was climbing out of the cove at Combe Martin Beaches, I realised I’d forgotten to get any more.

For most of this trip that oversight would not have been too much of an issue. As I’d been using a lot of campsites, getting hold of water was not a problem, as long as you made sure you took enough to last you the day. Today though I was planning on just walking the half distance to Minehead and then trying to find a wild camp. In Scotland a wild camp would normally be accompanied by a water source from which you can filter water, but here on the coastal path it’s not quite so straightforward. There are quite a few streams but as a lot of the land above is agricultural I was always a little bit worried about using this water. But good fortune shone on me today.

Before getting to Little Hangman I met two guys who were resting near the top of the hill. They’d nearly finished their day and were going to camp at the site in Watermouth. We talked for a while about various things and I mentioned that I still wanted to do another 10 miles. I think they had some genuine concern for my wellbeing as they said the terrain ahead was quite tricky and they were also worried that I wouldn’t be able to find anywhere to camp. They told me that some of the path is very close to the edge of the cliff and it wouldn’t be a good idea to be walking it in the dark. I did hope to have stopped long before dark but I did take their warning seriously.

I then went on to mention that I was rubbish at remembering to make sure I had enough water and that I was running low. I definitely wasn’t asking for this but they ended up giving me about a litre of their water. Which was so generous of them and really got me out of a bit of a fix. I hope they were OK and hadn’t left themselves short, and that thought did worry me, but I can’t express how grateful I was to them. I hope I conveyed how I felt to them as well because that sort of generosity shouldn’t go unnoticed. I think they were honestly concerned about my welfare which was very much appreciated.

Not so frustrating

It had rained all night in camp. I know there has been a lot of rain on the trip but I think the majority of it has been at night. Which I think is ideal really as I love rain at night when I’m in my tent but it can be a little noisy so I’m not sure how much sleep I got. Once awake properly though, I packed up quite early and was on my way and back to where I left the coastal path for 8am.

When I was waling to the campsite the previous night I was quite concerned that I’d find this repositioning a little annoying as I might be re-treading a lot of my steps. As it happened, there was a lot of retracing and crossing what I’d had to cover the day before, and also the initial part of the walk drew a circle around the campsite as I walked towards and then past Morte Point, the campsite often coming into view, even after a couple of hours on the path. But I didn’t mind. There was no way I’d have been able to walk this the previous day so, even though I hadn’t planned the optimum route, I was happy with it. It was a really nice path and I was pleased to be enjoying it with fresh legs and no pressure to be anywhere yet.

The path that runs from Woolacombe to Ilfracombe is fabulous. Before getting to Morte Point, and then effectively going around the corner and heading east, there are great views over to Baggy Point and beyond to Hartland point which at this point was going in and out of view due to the mist. I still found it really strange to be able to look back at this point that looked so near but was also so far. It still felt like I was looking back in time. I couldn’t help but think back to walking there, about having only just left Cornwall. The completion of the walk at that time seeming so far away, and now I was nearly finished. As I got to Windy Point, as if on cue, the wind really picked up. The path also became rocky and quite slippy so I took my time around here.

The walk continued to be a pleasure with Rochham Bay to my left and the changing view of the sea as the sun tried to break through the early morning mist and rain clouds that were slowly clearing after a night of rain. I knew I was going to be getting to some difficult climbs later on in the day but for now I was just enjoying this section. I could now see the campsite I’d stayed at on my right but now I’d studied the map I didn’t mind that I’d apparently made very little progress. Some people might have cut this corner, but I really wanted to be able to say I’d walked the whole of the coast path. I’m still smarting a bit that I didn’t manage it in one go so I dread to think how I’d feel if I knew I’d missed a big chunk out. Besides, if you were going to miss some of the walk out, you’d not want it to be this part.

And as if by magic, the shop keeper appeared

It wasn’t a shop keeper. It was a photographer. But it felt just like a scene out of Mr Ben because I didn’t notice the man come and sit next to me. It was a couple of hours into the walk and I still hadn’t reached Ilfracombe. I guess it was roughly as I approached the Lee Bay Beaches and I passed the first person I’d seen all day. He wasn’t quite on the path but up nearer the cliff edge with his dog. I waved, because that’s what you do on the path, it’s a friendly place, but I carried on walking. A few minutes later I noticed that I had some internet signal and that there was a bench close to the cliff so I decided this would be a good opportunity to take a break and to upload the post that said I wouldn’t be uploading a post – I like a good oxymoron.

Just as I clicked the publish button I heard someone say hello. It was the man I’d seen previously and he was now sitting next to me. I have no idea how long he’d been sitting there. It felt like he’d just appeared. His name was John and he was a retired photographer, although he seemed to have a camera with him and talked about his work, so still seemed to be working. He told me a few stories about his life but the most interesting was how one of his clients had managed to sell a photograph for a lot of money just by saying it wasn’t for sale. Apparently the idea that something wasn’t obtainable made it more valuable even though it was just a photograph. He told me that the client had made hundreds of thousands of pounds using this technique. Unfortunately for John he’d only sold it for a few thousand – which I thought was still a lot. He said he was still happy with what he got – he’d bought a new camera.

I really enjoyed talking to John. I don’t know how accurate his stories were but it was nice to just talk to someone. We were the only ones out there at this stage so I guess he probably wanted to have a chat with someone and I was the only person available. He also was surprised I was in my 50s – he said he thought more like late 30s. I’ll take that.

A bit run down

Soon I was heading towards Ilfracombe and was looking out for where Jenny and I had got terribly lost when we were walking in the other direction, trying to find a campsite we were staying at. I do like seeing parts of the coast that I’ve not seen before but I also get a comfort when I come to parts that I’m familiar with. On the day we got lost we simply hadn’t drunk enough water, and while trying to head back inland we missed a quite obvious sign. Once we stopped for a break and drink of water it all became easy. It’s funny how our brains start to malfunction when we don’t give them food and water, but you can’t tell until you’ve rectified the issue, and then it all seems so obvious.

Another thing I remembered from that day was the large number of switch backs used just outside the town to climb back out onto the cliffs. Luckily, for me, I got to go down them today rather than climb. A few people were coming the other way and often stopping and debating whether to continue. Even after the switchbacks though I was still quite high as there were still a lot of roads to cover that brought me down into the town.

Even though I now really wanted to press on I knew I had to be sensible and track down somewhere to get supplies. I checked my map and noted that all the mini supermarkets were not in the main tourist area of Ilfracombe but were set back on the Main Street. Reluctantly I decided to head towards these shops but not before noticing a wall next to a carpark where I’d parked when the boys and I went on a speedboat ride and I’d taken a nice photograph. I’ve got really fond memories of that day.

I felt a bit sad when I found the Main Street. It was very different to the main tourist areas and felt very deprived, but was only a small distance away. There was lots of rubbish and just really run down. In it’s defence though, I was not there for long, and if I was a local maybe I’d have a very different outlook. Maybe I’d just seen it on a bad day. I picked up the food I needed, hopefully enough to cover me for two days, and worked my way back to the path. Ready for the climb out of Ilfracombe.

I’m a little annoyed at myself because I really fancied an ice cream but I felt like I’d taken a lot of time at the shops getting vital supplies and decided to press on. I kept on thinking about that ice cream as I walked out of the town.

So high

I knew now that I was getting close to my final destination because I could quite clearly see Wales across the sea – which I suppose now was the Bristol Channel. As my journey continued it would get nearer, and depending on the weather, get clearer. The weather was actually being very kind to me so far and had only improved as the day had gone on, although there were dark clouds hovering over Wales so I knew that could change quickly. I did really enjoy this section of the path, despite all the undulations, and was really enjoying myself. The path didn’t always have a full view of the sea but that was OK, when you see the sea everyday it’s nice to have a bit of variety. I try not to take it for granted though, I live in Leicester which is about as far from the sea as you can get in the UK, so I had to remember to enjoy this treat.

I’ve noticed with a lot of the coast line since I’ve reached Devon that, despite still being just on the edge of the cliffs, but not on top, you are still very high up. Sometimes you can’t tell because the path has trees or bushes on either side, but once you get in a clearing, or just happen to look down, you realise how high you are. You definitely would not want to misstep here. Even when out in the open it’s somewhat of an illusion as it doesn’t feel that high until you take the time to look.

Good advice – ignored

I can’t remember exactly where I was when this happened but I think I was around Hele Beach which was a nice little cove where some people were involved in water sports. I walked past a group of lads, maybe in their 20s, and one of them asked me if I was doing the whole of the SW coastal path. Sometimes when I get asked this, well most times, I go into a little detail. I explain I’ve had to do it in two sections. I really wish I could have said I’d done it all in one go. Partly because it would be an easier conversation, and partly because I think that would have been better. Unfortunately I can’t change what I’ve done – or not done.

Some of the lads seemed to want to ridicule me, maybe for the way I was dressed, but one of them was really nice. He said that Minehead wasn’t far now and then went on to tell me that if I carried on to  Combe Martin and then went on to a place called Little Hangman I’d be able to find some decent spots for wild camping. He told me to get something nice to eat at Combe Martin and then later make my way up the hill to camp. In hindsight I really wish I’d followed his advice, and I will talk more about this later, but I knew if I stopped this early on the path I’d leave myself too much to do on my final day. Whilst writing this I’m annoyed at myself for pushing on at this stage, it was totally unnecessary, I could easily have taken another day, or even more, and it would have been fine, maybe even better.

I saw numerous good pitches where this kind man suggested but I just pressed on. Some of them would have been perfect with amazing views but also with bushes to give some shelter. I’d started the day hoping I’d be able to get to Lynton and Lynmouth, but as soon as I realised this was too far, I should have replanned. I hope I’ve learnt from this. After saying all this though, I was absolutely loving the coastline here. Everything was so pretty. The path was great to walk on. There were occasions where the path followed a main road, but unlike near Woolacombe, there was a path and you didn’t have to dodge traffic. The only thing that could make this part better would have been that ice cream.

All was quiet

It was probably around 5pm now and I had headed through Combe Martin, I’d met the men that gave me their water, and was now heading towards Lynton. I knew I wasn’t going to get as far as Lynton, not even close, but I decided that ideally I’d like my mileage remaining to Minehead to be less than the mileage covered for the day. So my plan was to press on until this was true, and then immediately start looking out for a suitable camping spot. The good and bad news was that time was going fast today. This meant that I was enjoying myself and that the walk was interesting, but it did mean that it’d be dark sooner.

As always on this path, I was all alone and only saw one other person for the rest of the day. I’m not sure if this was because I was in a fairly remote part or if it was because it was getting later. I was happy with this though as it did mean, once I was happy to stop, I wouldn’t get disturbed in my chosen spot. Up here I was seeing lots of potential camping spots as the landscape was quite open, high up on the cliffs, and I did pause for quite a while at one as it was perfect, but I knew this was too early to stop, and this openness soon changed. About a mile from Hunters Lodge, there’s a really tricky part with the path right on the edge of the cliff. I can see why those lads who gave me the water didn’t want me doing it in the dark. It was quite nice walking this stretch though, especially when no one else was around, it really was stunning. The sea was silent and flat as well which added to the atmosphere. Despite the remoteness and potential peril from the closeness of the path to the edge, it felt like a very calm place, and I felt safe. I kept on stopping to take pictures and stare at the sea and marvel at how flat it was which really wasn’t helping me get miles under my belt but it needed to be appreciated.

The guys I’d met previously had stayed at a hotel called Hunters Lodge. They’d done this to escape the bad weather the night before and did suggest to me that I should stay there. The path descended into woodland and spent a lot of time winding its way around trees and eventually lead to the lodge. There was a lot of loose rock here and it was quite difficult to stay on my feet and it was a bit of a scramble to navigate. The main issue I was having now though was that I couldn’t find anywhere to camp. I’d sort of hit the spot where I felt like I’d left myself an achievable distance to cover the next day but I was either in amongst trees, out on cliff edges, or just too exposed. I didn’t get too worried, I was just enjoying the walk really. I’d be lying if I said the lack of a decent spot to pitch on was not on my mind, especially as I was now getting a bit tired, but it wasn’t taking over. There was no panic.

Sub optimal

When I could see ahead I would see lots of potential pitches but once you get near them they are often not as good as they seem in the distance. Normally on a big slope or covered in brambles or rocks. I got really excited about one spot when I viewed it from across a valley, only to see how unsuitable it was when I finally reached it an hour later. Every corner I came to I hoped that something good would be around the corner, only to be faced with more of the same. Oh well, push on, keep up hope.

This went on for a couple of hours before I decided that I wasn’t going to find something just on the path. I know a lot of campers suffer from this so I had comfort in knowing I’m not alone. You hope there is something around the corner, eventually pitch somewhere that’s a big compromise, only to then wake up the next day, walk a few hundred yards, and then find the perfect pitch. But in the end you just have to go for it, which is what I did. I could see ahead there was some good lying land but it was all national trust and I was started to see buildings now as I approached Lee Abbey and Lynton and, although it would probably make perfect camping, the chance of being moved on was much higher.

So I made a decision. I walked off the path and headed into some woodland. This was all on a big slope, and eventually would drop over a cliff edge if I walked too far, but I decided this was the best I was going to get. The undergrowth actually wasn’t too bad and I found a spot that, although on a big slope, I thought I’d be able to cope with. A major positive was that I was well hidden. There was no way I’d be disturbed here. So I managed to get the tent up, very aware it was on a very bid angle, and got all my stuff inside. Because of the excessive slope I laid my kit out slightly differently in the hope that it’d keep me roughly in position and I wouldn’t roll off my bed.

As I was deep in the woods there were lots of biting insects so I just zipped myself in the tent and hoped for the best. It was about 9pm now so I thought I’d have an early night and then hit the trail again at first light. This really was a poor pitch but I’m going to chalk it up as a success – for now. I’d done a good days walking and I had somewhere to sleep. I had food and drink as well so everything was catered for. Now I just need to hand onto my bed for the night and not roll down the hill. Oh, and then it started to rain.