Day 6 Porlock to Dunster: Discretion is the Better Part of Valour

Ken & Max at Myrtle Cottage

For an OS map of today's walk click here. 

Today's forecast was for a high of 9 degrees Celsius with wind gusts up to 50 km/hr with the possibility of showers, so Ken decided to take us to Dunster inland via Minehead rather than via Selworthy Beacon and the coastal path, from which we might have been blown off! In this case, discretion truly is the better part of valour, with the bonus of seeing the three villages of Bossington, Allerford, and Selworthy at leisure.

For this trip I'm trying to eat something different whenever possible, so I took the option of a hot buttered crumpet for breakfast. It was amazing. When our host Nigel asked if I'd like another, he and Ken both looked at me so persuasively that I did have a second one. Actually, I didn't need to be persuaded! We had also been able to handwash several things the night before, and they were all dry in the morning, thanks to a "fierce" heater (so described by our host Jan) in the bathroom. So, well-fed and happy, we had a good send-off from Myrtle Cottage, one of our favourite B & B's to which we'd like to return some day.

Allerford, with its Famous Packhorse Bridge

When we set forth on the streets of Porlock, we kept finding ourselves in the sightlines of another couple taking photos. We escaped into the haven of St. Dubricius Church. Local lore is that the top of St. Dubricius' tower is missing and is currently on top of Culbone Church, which we saw yesterday. We bought batteries for our camera at a photo shop—our camera isn't working properly, having developed a voracious appetite for batteries. We are wondering if somehow the combination of cold and (colder) wind is somehow causing problems for the camera. Sometimes we'll be facing into the wind and the camera just shuts down. Hopefully this won't continue!

The walk to Bossington was picturesque. We met a retired fireman who lives near the Chilterns; he had put on waterproof trousers because he hates getting wet, and the forecast was for rain. We put our pack covers on for parts of the day, and it seemed to ensure that we didn't experience more than a few drops. If it was raining, we put the covers on and the rain ceased; not long after we took the covers off, a shower threatened so we put them back on . . . and the shower stopped. We're not superstitious, but we're just sayin'. . . .

It did rain, hard, while we were inside a "chapel of ease" just after Bossington. As we were getting ready to go, a tour group came in, which gave us an excuse to wait out the shower. The guide chatted with us: he had been to Vancouver and up to Prince Rupert. We waited in the porch for a few minutes; the rain stopped for the most part so we walked down the lane to pretty Allerford. We crossed the beautiful packhorse bridge and then climbed uphill along a lovely lane on the way to Selworthy. We "slingshotted" with another couple up the hill. When we were ahead and had paused to rest, they came up and joked with us not to bother to pretend to look at our map—they knew we were taking a breather. We learned that his sister lived in Ontario—many Canadian connections today.

Approaching Selworthy, the Fantasy Village—Is it Real?

A Cottage on Selworthy Green

We eventually came to a gate where people were coming and going, and walked through it into the fantasy world of Selworthy. Ancient thatched cottages, a beautiful green, picture-perfect gardens. In reality, the village was built in the early nineteenth century by the owner of the local Holnicote Estate in order to house his aged and infirm workers. We had lunch and an absolutely delicious cream tea at the Periwinkle Tearoom, then looked at the church which had a beautiful carving of angels in procession done by a local carver. The church was built in the late medieval "perpendicular" Gothic style, and its spacious proportions made "Amazing Grace" sound wonderful!

Another Selworthy Cottage

Selworthy with Dunkery Beacon in the Background

Given the time and crisp, gusty weather, we were happy to eschew the coast path and just walk inland to Dunster via Minehead. Minehead itself yielded a pleasant path to the centre of the town through a park, with some maple trees with curiously variegated, pale yellow leaves—we hadn't seen trees like those before.

It looked stormy as we headed out of Minehead, so we put on our pack covers and, true to form, walked out from under the spitting shower into warm, mellow sunshine. In keeping with the past few days, we walked up and up and over the hill into Dunster. After checking in to our B & B, we headed into the village for (we hoped) a quick meal. I had researched before the trip and had read that there would be a bell ringers' practice in the church tower that evening at 7:30. We didn't find anything quick to eat, but had a light dinner at a restaurant, emerging around 7:40. No sound of bells. Shivering in the cold and a bit disappointed, we walked back to the B & B, and just as Ken laid his hand on the doorknob, we heard the bells!

We turned around and hustled back to the church, entering and climbing up a tight spiral staircase that seemed to go up endlessly. Ken entered the open doorway and was asked, "Are you ringers?" Even though we weren't, we were still welcome to watch. We sat on a bench in the corner,

Yes, we were up there...

...with the Dunster bell-ringers!

and in between peals some of the ringers chatted with us and explained change-ringing to us, though I feel it's about as mysterious as cricket to me. Our final Canadian connection for the day was the fact that the ringers had rung the bells in Christ Church Cathedral in Vancouver. The leader asked if either of us would like to try ringing with his help. I did. I wasn't really pulling, but he showed me how to feel the rhythm of the rope as the bell rang. During the final break, they brought out wine and macaroons to celebrate Martin's 31st birthday, and we were included in the refreshments. He had been a ringer since he was 14. Sadly, we only thought of getting a picture of the group after several had already left.

I found this whole experience amazing, fascinating to watch the ringing and participate in regular non-touristy life. I had read Dorothy L. Sayers' The Nine Tailors to Ken before we left, and much of what she described we experienced—except for someone dying, of course!

24,231 steps, 18.173 km, 738.6 cal
OS getamap measured distance: 8.85 mi (14.25 km)