Long Time No Blog

Hi, I finally got away from Bigbury on sea on Tuesday. The ferry wasn’t working but Frank was. Just before he arrived a stranger strode into town.

It was John from Deal (or no deal) who was walking the Coast Path. He’d caught the ferry across the Yealm but missed low tide on the Erme, exactly as I had. He had slept on the beach in the afternoon and forded the river in the dark at low tide at 10pm.
The other John (tucker) who owns Mount Folly Farm Campsite wants to set up some kind of reception for me at the finish line, or to walk together with me in support over the last few miles – great bloke.
Frank took us round the tidal road to the far side of the estuary. He said that the swans I’d seen before were encouraged by an old bloke who fed them every day. A lot of people are pissed off with them and this was aggravated by a dog getting stuck into the swans when a girl on a horse trotted by. The horse was spooked and bolted, throwing the woman who broke her wrist and ending up belly deep in mud. It took the coppers, fire brigade and a winch to get the horse out of the mud. The old man was castigated by the locals, culminating in criticism of him in the local Parish Newsletter. Oh no! How can he walk the streets when the Parson’s given him a ticking off in the Parish Newsletter.

Frank dropped us off and John proved a prolific talker but a poor listener. I said goodbye. This is a view of a Burgh Island and Bigbury on sea looking back.

The coast and weather were both brilliant again. Even the inland views in this part of South Devon are magnificent.

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The correct answer is 3.

Another question. What is this left on the coast path?

Want a clue?
Take a black plastic bag, a dog’s arse and a Dirty Pillock.

I made it round to Salcombe. It was a long haul and I pulled into the first hotel on the south beach and had a cider on their balcony hanging over the sea. Delightful. I looked on my iPad to see the room rates and for that night a single room would be £245. I went up to Higher Rew campsite and slept under Wilson for eight quid. The first person I bumped into was John from Deal.

It was a rainy morning and I packed Wilson away wet and legged it down to Salcombe waterfront and had breakfast. I caught the ferry across to East Portlemouth and started out again with Torcross as my target.

This is Salcombe looking back from the ferry landing stage and the beach on the east side.

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John Tucker had told me he was born and brought up in East sprawledso I cut through it. I didn’t see anyone and on my way back down to the coastal path I came across a farmer trying to fix a gate. He asked me if I’d lift it and we fixed it quite quickly. He was well pleased and I asked him if he knew John Tucker. He said he was Richard, his first cousin. Small world down southwest!

A lad on the coast said he had seen a whale, I looked at the spot he’d seen it and certainly there was a lot of activity in the sea but indeterminate. I did hear eerie whale-like calls as I walked around the cliff. Seals? Mermaids?

Start Point is quite spectacular.

And looking further on towards Dartmouth.

I made it to Torcross and caught two buses up to Ziva’s place in Totnes where I had a hell of a shower and a good sleep after a pleasant evening with friends.

I caught the buses back to Torcross today and am at the moment in Dartmouth. Some of the most spectacular views of the entire trek. Cop these.

Slapton Sands was a training area for D Day. All the villagers were moved out to let the Yanks practice for that fateful landing at Omaha. Poor, poor boys. Blasted to bits. Help for latter day Heroes.
Please donate if you haven’t.
Bmycharity.com/bladegoeswest
There are some memorials on this stretch of coast.

I’m going back to Totnes on a ferry. Should be fun. I’ll tell you tomorrow. I’ll end on nature watch. Lovely innit?