Bideford to Abbotsham – A Walk Around The Point

What’s the point? Well it’s the northerly tip of the land between Appledore and Westward Ho!

I woke up at 7.00am, gathered my dirty clothes and dashed to get a bus from Abbotsham to Bideford.

I found the launderette and got my mucky stuff going. How can anyone not think of the Kursaal Flyers in a launderette!

When she finished her laundry she was all in a quandary
And made it for the street like a hare
Her escape was so urgent, she forgot her detergent
And dropped all her clean underwear.

After the washing was dry I headed downtown for another decent breakfast. How good is a full English?

Very good David.

The day was still windy, sunny and chilly as I walked down the bank of the estuary towards Appledore.

Just before Appledore is the shipbuilding yard which has produced ships since 1855. Harland and Wolff bought the yard recently and shipbuilding is buoyant here, according to a bloke cutting the grass.

Appledore’s a nice spot. Bideford, on the other hand, has a huge proportion of weird, mentally unbalanced and noisy people. Manic street preachers and loud speakers make you feel uncomfortable in the place.

But Appledore…..

Only weird if you think that a suit of armour in your garden and a shark with arms and legs hanging over your drive gate is weird!

The wind was slightly dropping and the temperature was warming a little. Looking back to Appledore (and across the estuary to Instow) the kayaks and boards made a colourful collage.

The lifeboat station was beached at low tide so it looks like they keep the lifeboat out in deeper water in case of action.

The centre of the little cape was great sheep grazing land, whilst the coastline was long beaches.

Round to Westward Ho!. Did that sentence need a full stop?

I was making good time but I was meeting an old mate and dear colleague of mine, Mark Sparvell, who had lived down here for a couple of decades. Passing Westward Ho! on the coast path the last stretch of coastline of the Bristol Channel spread out in front of me.

After a mile I cut up the hills and made it to Abbotsham where I was meeting Sparvey in the Thatched Inn. We had a great catch up and it was good to see him in fine form.

Back to the campsite, just a mile away, and a cold night ahead. But a lovely view of Lundy at sunset.

A ridiculous target in the morning, but I’ll see what I can do.

Night night.