It wasn’t really so much of an interruption, more really a chance to slow down a bit and have a decent conversation with someone. For the whole of this coastal path walk I’ve met lots of people, and had loads of different conversations, but I’d never actually walked with anyone. As far as I was concerned today wasn’t going to be any different. I had a goal of getting to Minehead in my mind and no-one was going to slow me down or prevent that from happening. It had been confirmed that Jenny was going to drive down after work so I certainly had to make it to Minehead, and preferably not be there too much later that 8pm as I didn’t want to keep her hanging around too long. She had to work the next day so it wouldn’t be fair to be home too late.

I had about 8 miles to go before I would get to Porlock and I’d just gone past Countisbury where I’d done a quick circuit of the church graveyard in search of a tap – yes, I had run out of water again, when I bumped into three ladies having a conversation. Two of them were heading in the opposite direction with day packs – they were in the process of completing the coastal path over a number of years, and there was Mel, fully laden with a backpacking rucksack and heading in the same direction as me. She’d been working her way up from Lands End but didn’t plan on stopping at Minehead. Her full intentions were not clear, even to her, but she was making her way north, I think ultimately to Scotland, but she was playing it all by ear. She was going slower than me. I think she’d started about a week before me but, as I’ll disclose later, I think she was the wise one.

I really didn’t want to get into a long conversation, so I talked for a few minutes to everyone – although somehow managed to fit in that I was between jobs – then made my excuses and walked on. Mel did the same and I thought that I’d just walk fast to be on my own again. Generally I think this is the best way to walk the path. You can then do your own pace and no one needs to consider you. Mel though carried on talking to me. And that was that, we walked together all the way to Porlock.

What had started as me being quite antisocial ended up in around 3 hours of conversation, and a conversation I really enjoyed. Mel was from Australia but was taking a year off to travel. She worked in the dairy industry and she told me things about Australia. We even went a bit political but luckily were generally aligned so no harm done – although she did sometimes say things that made me think. When we got to Porlock she apologised for slowing me down but for one, I’m not sure she did, and secondly, if she did, it was absolutely worth it. I really enjoyed our conversation.

I knew she was stopping in Porlock so once we got there, if I needed to, I could up my pace. My only regret was that I didn’t lend her my sleep mat. She’d told me that hers was leaking, and I did ponder offering mine, but it was expensive and I couldn’t afford to just give it away. It was only afterwards that I realised I could have let her borrow it and she could have sent it back to me when she’d got a replacement. So I really kicked myself about that. It would have really helped her out, and being totally selfish, good deeds always make me feel better. Sadly though, in this case, it wasn’t to be.

I’ve loved all these interactions on the trail. I’ve not got a single persons contact details which does make me feel strange, because I’ve got to know these people but will never talk to them again, or even know what has happened to them. I’d love to know how successful they’ve been on the trail and if they’ve achieved their goals. On the other hand, if I did have contact details, I’m not sure I’d know what to do with them anyway. I’m sometimes a little awkward with these things. Anyway, to all those people I met, I send my best wishes. I hope you reach your goals.

Lucky catch

I think it’s safe to say that sleeping on a slope is not a good idea, but, does beat not sleeping anywhere. So I’ll take the slope in this case but make a note to try and avoid in the future. I definitely did sleep but it wasn’t a great nights sleep. I spent a lot of the night trying to hang on to my sleep pad and was constantly trying to rearrange everything inside the tent to try and get comfortable. The problem was that some of the ground I was on was more sloped than other parts, but the less sloped part was quite narrow, so I was sort of perched on that bit but during the night would fall down the slope. I’m not complaining as I made this situation, and I hopefully will learn from it, and by morning I considered it a successful camp because I’d got through the night, had got some sleep, and was safe and well. It’d been raining a lot of the night as well and I was dry and warm, so in terms of boxes to tick on a camp, most of them were.

After I’d packed up I realised I’d left one of the pockets open on the hip belt of my rucksack. I was so stupid to do this because things fall out quite easily. I’d had to use my pen knife the previous night to cut down a particularly spiky weed and that had been stored in this pocket, and instead of returning it straight to the hip belt pocket I’d just put it in the pocket in my shorts – leaving the hip belt pocket open. Very clumsy of me. What a bit of luck though that I released before I headed off because my headphones had also been in that pocket and they were now gone. Not wanting to advertise for Apple but the ‘Find My’ feature here worked a treat and I soon got them bleeping to reveal their location. Even with that it took me some time to find them as they’d slipped right into the undergrowth so my relief was palpable when I finally found them. It made me feel really good, quite how I’d have felt if I’d lost them is not worth considering.

As I made my way through the dense forest undergrowth and dodged around the trees in search of the path, I walked past a sign warning of an unstable cliff edge. My luck really was in this morning.

The best start

I feel quite a bit of relief after a successful wild camp. Everything always feels great, even if the sleep hasn’t been so good. You tend to be on the go quite early, getting miles covered quickly, on a natural high from what you’ve just managed to achieve. I love the feeling after a wild camp. This day was made even better because I’d received some messages from friends encouraging me. I’m so lucky that I’ve had people following along and taking an interest. It makes me feel that this is actually something quite remarkable, although deep down I know that anyone could do what I’m doing. You just have to be a little selfish and take the time for yourself.

It took me a little while to get from the path lined by trees to get back out onto the coast. I could always hear the sea but not always see it. Once there though, I could see Wales again, quite hazy this morning. My mind drifted back to arriving in Cape Cornwall just under 2 weeks ago and how that felt at the time. It feels so long ago, many many weeks. But as I’ve travelled so far it feels like everything has changed so much. Maybe it’s all just in my mind but it feels like those initial steps were on a different holiday. My walking in Scotland feels like another life time.

The sea is so flat and glistening today and I’d love to be out there on a boat. I think even Jenny, who doesn’t like boats, would be ok with the conditions today. There doesn’t seem to be any movement in the water at all. I think if she kept on doing it she’d eventually get used to it and wouldn’t worry so much. Unfortunately we don’t get many opportunities to go on boat trips where we live. Maybe when I relocate to the coast and get myself a boat we could work on that – note: this will not happen.

As I walked I saw a few better wild camping pitches, in fact there was a tent pitched on a path that ran off the coastal path. I thought it quite a brave pitch because it was on the national trust land of Lee Abbey but they were still pitched up so had obviously got away with it. I think I need to be braver about things like that. I’ve alway been like this in everything I do. I always worry that what I’m doing will disturb someone else and I don’t want to be a nuisance. I thought back to my train journey down to Penzance where I sat near a girl who thought it was ok to have her feet on the chairs and to listen to videos on her phone without headphones. Making everyone on the carriage listen to what she was listening to. She couldn’t care less about anyone else. I think she’s the opposite of me – maybe there is a happy medium there where I could be a bit more confident but not impact other people. I wonder what she would be like as a wild camper, she’d probably just pitch in someone’s front garden.

Valley of Rocks

I’m not sure if this is the official place name but it’s the one on Google Maps and it does seem rather apt. I got treated to a brief downpour at this point which did involve donning my waterproof for a little while but it was short-lived. I made my way around some unusual rock formations and then back next to the sea. I could tell this was a more popular walking spot as the path had been properly surfaced and there were benches. It was early though so I didn’t see anyone else around. I noticed how the path was the same as the previous day in the sense that it was carved into the side of the cliff, but now, as it’d been properly surfaced, it was a lot safer and easy to walk on. You could just stroll along, but I did notice that I was still very high up. I imagine though that this area would be very busy at other times so I was happy to be enjoying it nice and early in the morning.

I started to wonder when I’d hit Somerset, or indeed if I already had. On the coastal path there is never any indication that you’ve moved to a different county, or if there is, I haven’t noticed them. I did check though and I’d not yet got to Lynton and that’s definitely in Devon so I wasn’t there yet. It seems that this path spends very little time in Somerset. One of my old work colleagues had commented on the blog that I was heading for the best bit now. Now, maybe he’s right, but I know he’s from Minehead so there may be a bit of bias there. Saying that, where I was walking now, which wasn’t so far from Minehead, wasn’t so shabby. I’d happily come back here for a day hike. You could maybe park here and then take the coastal path to Lynton and Lynmouth.

Easily confused

The walk into Lynton didn’t take too long and as I was feeling good as it was quite a pleasure. The weather hadn’t dampened my spirits at all as I figured I’d just get the odd shower today and it’d be generally dry. I think it just takes a few hours in the morning to decide what it’s going to do. The entry to Lynton is very high and you can see the long way down to Lynmouth. I’ve looked at the map since so I sort of understand how it works but at the time I really couldn’t tell if I was in Lynton or Lynmouth. They really felt like the same place to me. Lynton has the top of the cliff railway and Lynmouth seems to have the bottom so I’m not sure if that’s how the two places are divided.

The confusion did affect me a little because it really would have been helpful if I’d got some food at this point. I’d had a cereal bar for my breakfast but with all this walking that’s really not enough and I thought there would be an opportunity to buy food in either Lynton or Lynmouth, but because I walked through both places thinking they were both Lynton and that Lynmouth would be a little further on, I didn’t stop, thinking I’d get something a little later. I was there quite early so cafe’s were only just starting to open and I should have just waited a bit, but due to lack of knowledge, decided to carry on. A bit stupid of me really.

The cliff railway was also closed at this time. I assume that was due to the time of day and not because it doesn’t function anymore. This is the second railway I’ve seen like this whilst walking the coastal path. I can’t quite remember where the other one was but I think it was quite early on in my adventure way back in September 2023. That one was closed at the time as well. I imagine though that it would not be an acceptable shortcut to the purist SW coastal path walker. I liked Lynton and Lynmouth but I think it would get very busy, which would make me like it a lot less.

I’ve been attacked

The climb out of Lynmouth was quite steep but over these past few days I’ve got used to that. I was slightly worried because I’d now realised that the next built up place would be Porlock and the signs were saying that it was 12 miles. I didn’t really have much food left – just a chocolate bar and some sweets, and guess what, I’d just run out water. I wasn’t that worried about the food, I knew what I had would get me through, but the water was a concern. I decided though not to get stressed about it and just to keep listening for running water. The initial part of the walk was a path cut into the side of the very steep cliff, which some very spectacular views, so I hoped that there would be some running water that I could collect and filter. I knew I’d be ok.

The path eventually gets to the top of the cliffs and then opens up a bit and becomes much wider. It runs quite near Countisbury and then runs at the top of the cliffs on open fields around a really scenic part that encloses Lynmouth Bay. The views here are amazing and the coastline fascinating. I stopped for a break to eat some chocolate and sweet and just to take it all in. My last day on the trail was really turning out fine. The weather now was clearing up as well and there was some blue sky but the wind was picking up a little which was reflected in the sea state as I could now see small waves forming. It was quite good hiking weather.

I could hear some running water. The path was now descending down to a really small road which I think serviced a lighthouse and I could see a bridge and I could definitely hear running water. This could be my chance to get some water, I was feeling really good about it. Unfortunately as I neared the bridge, even though there was clearly a lot of water running under it, I couldn’t see any way to get to it. It was very overgrown and I’d have had to push through very high brambles so I decided not to try. As I was walking away from the bridge I felt something itching on my right arm, just below my elbow on my forearm. I instinctively went to scratch it, not really thinking, and as I looked down and my hand touched my arm, I saw the flash of a little black creature jumping from my arm. I’m not sure what it was, as I barely saw it, but it was probably about 1cm wide and looked quite fat. The strangest thing though was that I had blood on my arm and on my fingers. I worried that it had been a tick but it was maybe too big for that. The good news though was that it was gone, but I decided to keep an eye on the area on my arm, just in case I got any swelling or other issues. It was most strange.

Just when you need it

It was not long after the vicious attack that I happened upon my first honesty box of the whole trip. I’ve not seen any honesty boxes since Poole but suddenly there was one here. And if I could have picked the perfect moment to have one, this would have been it. I did wonder if the insect bite had in fact knocked me unconscious and this was all now a dream, because it really was so convenient. Like a mirage in the desert. I grabbed a couple of drinks and moved on. This really was a stroke of luck.

This is when I met Mel and we walked together all the way to Porlock. The path now mainly ran through woodlands with occasional glimpses of the sea. You could say this was less spectacular than some of the views from earlier in the day but it was a really nice walk. Obviously I now had company, which was nice change, and the time flew by. I absolutely prefer carrying out these walks on my own, but I really liked the company for this stretch. It was the best of both worlds.

There were quite a lot of new signs along the path showing the direction and mileage to Porlock. It was really well signposted and difficult to get lost. The path did not follow the route that was on my OS Maps but I just followed the signs instead of my watch. Often when the path has been updated or refreshed it takes a slightly different route which I imagine is to conserve the path and its surroundings. The only issue we had was that the mileages to Porlock seemed a little random. We’d have one that said 6 miles to go and then another, shortly afterwards, saying 6.5 miles. So we didn’t take those too seriously.

All by myself

The signs routed us onto a stoney beach just before Porlock and it did feel like we’d gone the wrong way as it was very difficult to walk on and, temporarily, there were no more signs. We just carried on along the beach in the general direction of Porlock though and soon met up with the path and some more signs. If we hadn’t been walking the coastal path then a more direct route was available but I had to follow the coastal path, even if the route was a little awkward.

Once we made it into Porlock I had to say goodbye to Mel. It felt strange that I wouldn’t see her again but that’s the nature of walking on the trail. Just before we parted ways we saw a couple who’d walked from Minehead. It was about 4pm now and they said it’d taken them about 6 hours and they were surprised that I was going to walk all that way now. I was a little confused as my watch was telling me I only had 8 miles to the finish now so I didn’t understand how it could take that long. I knew there was still some climbs to tackle but it still seemed like a long time. Maybe they had just had lots of breaks. They also were just carrying day sacks, not full camping gear, so that was a concern as well. I told Mel that I wasn’t too worried and hopefully it’d be ok.

I was a little jealous that Mel could stop for the day now, as I still had quite a lot more to do, but I also was pleased that I’d be back in my own bed that night, sleeping on a level surface. It’s a strange feeling as I get near the end of a walk. I’m so excited to finish it, for the hardships of hiking to be over, but I know I’ll really miss it as well. I wish I could alter these end of walk feelings I have because for a little while it makes me feel like I’m not enjoying myself, and that’s such a waste of an experience.

I managed to get some more water at Porlock, so I had enough now to get me to Minehead, and then I headed out alone across fields set far back from the beach, with the looming hills and cliffs beyond Bossington to look forward to. Apparently at high tide a lot of this area can flood which is why the path is set so far back. It’s very flat though so I was able to make really good progress. By the time I was at the carpark at Bossington my watch was showing less than 6 miles remaining to Minehead so I started to consider what I’d do while I was waiting for Jenny to arrive. She was about to leave Leicester a this time and it was close to a 4 hour drive so I felt sure I’d be there before her.

And then it all made sense

After making my way through Bossington, which has a nice car park for people who want to come here for a walk and to enjoy the views, I followed the path upwards towards Hurlstone Point. It wasn’t long before I realised that I’d made a mistake when planing my route. There are broadly two routes to get from Bossington to Minehead. One if more direct and follows a bridleway and the other, the one I wanted, used the coastal path. I realised I’d programmed the bridleway route into my watch when I reached a sign signalling each option. Momentarily I nearly just following the route on my watch but quickly stopped myself. I’d walked hundreds of miles on this path and there was no way I was going to take a short cut for the last few miles. That would be insane. And besides, the coastal path was sure to have better views.

The error I’d made didn’t look too bad. It was only going to be an extra couple of miles following the coastal path proper compared with the bridal way so just an extra hour walking based on my average pace. Plus Jenny wasn’t going to be in Minehead any time soon so it was probably good news. I got to enjoy the trail a bit longer and there’d be no waiting around. This was positive on all fronts and I was actually quite pleased to have understood another discrepancy on the miles I had to go verses the readout from my watch.

It was quite a tough path to walk. In some places very narrow and with some quite difficult climbs. I could feel that I was working very hard on this final stage. The wind had really picked up now as well and I wasn’t particularly enjoying that element. I was nearly finished though so I just kept on pressing on. I could see that after a few miles of difficult walking I’d again join the bridal path which should then take me gently into Minehead. This wasn’t so bad, a bit of hard work but being rewarded with spectacular views. Particularly nice looking back towards Porlock.

I have to admit I was quite relieved to eventually join the bridleway again. It’d been a couple of hours of very demanding terrain, and although I’d enjoyed it, I was getting really tired now. It occurred to me that I’d been walking since 6am and it was now 7pm so I was bound to be tired. I was finding the wind constantly blowing in my face annoying now, like it was doing it just to affect me. I really must stop taking it so personally. I had paused to take a picture of some horses roaming the cliff tops, and watched rabbits scurrying for their burrows, relieved the tough parts were over. But then, oh dear, another mistake, I was routed from the bridleway towards the cliff edge again. I’d programmed the wrong route again and was again in for an increased mileage and more difficult terrain. Luckily this wasn’t anywhere near as difficult as the first ‘change’ and I was certain if offered a better approach into Minehead, so a little part of me was glad. It seemed now that Jenny was going to beat me to Minehead.

Mustn’t cry

The last 7 miles of this walk had been a pretty hard slog. I have to admit there wasn’t much left in the tank. My feet were really aching now and my knees were not happy. I was happy though. I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes on this last section but I wouldn’t change it. Maybe if I’d know exactly what was in store I would have done things differently before, maybe taken a bit less time for myself during the day, maybe worried more, and that may have made the day less fun.

The path descends through some woodland and then becomes a tarmac path running next to an open field with benches. It’s all flat now until the end. Jenny had just called to say she was at the monument and was waiting for me. I think I had less than a mile to go. I hate and love this part. It does make you feel emotional, I don’t know why, but it’s like all the pent up feelings you’ve had all come rushing out at once. All the highs and all the lows. The good the bad. The happy the sad. The elation of finishing. The fear of not knowing what comes next. They all get combined into one big rush of emotion. It’s funny, because it’s just a walk.

I wasn’t quite sure of the route through Minehead as the signs had stopped. I could though see some metal sea shells embedded in the road that seemed to be leading the way, so I followed them. Then I saw Jenny. She wasn’t sure it was me but there were no other hikers around so she figured it must be. I didn’t cry. Jenny told me the monument tells you to follow the sea shells as they lead you through to the start of the SW coastal path walk, there are no such instructions for doing it backwards. Then we walked the last 100 yards to the monument, and it was over.