Day 11 Cossington to Wells: Across the Slough of Despond

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

It wasn't quite as miry as the slough in John Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, but it was a tough day. I joked with Ken that the highlight for today's blog was going to be seeing a snail cross the road at several different places.

We knew the forecast was not good but hoped against hope that they were wrong. They were right. Rain all day. Mostly road walking from Cossington to Wells across the Somerset Levels, a barely-above-sea-level landscape characterized and determined more by water than by land. No pubs or villages to stop at on the way. We walked from 9:00 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. and only got to sit down once. We found a dry spot at the edge of a road under an evergreen tree and literally sat in the road and ate the ham sandwiches our kind B & B host had packed for us. Fortunately only one car passed us, its owner looking irritated that we were sitting in his way. If this sounds pitiful, it's meant to.

Our one huge mistake was in the middle of the afternoon when we were tiring. We took a public footpath instead of the road in an attempt to make the walk shorter. The end of the path that we could see had a brand new "public footpath" sign, and the path looked well trodden. Unfortunately, that was only half the story. The latter part of the path had tall, wet grass, then a muddy ploughed field, and the stile to exit the field was blocked with fallen branches and nettles. We ended up climbing a gate to get out, leaving thick red mucky clay footprints on the road. Later as we walked along the road there was actually a nice bench beside the river at a pump house, but it was so wet and the rain so unpleasant we couldn't bring ourselves to sit down.

Pining for our nice room at Brookhayes...

The rain, which in the morning had only been a light drizzle, seemed to increase in intensity as the day went on. So as our feet grew more and more sore from an entire day of road walking, the conditions grew more and more cold, unpleasant and difficult. Usually Ken is the one whose feet give out and start hurting near the end of the day, but this time both of us were really hurting. We finally arrived at Wells, stopping briefly at a table outside a pastry shop for a drink and a snack; we were so muddy we felt like we couldn't sit inside but it was raining and cold and the sidewalk awning barely covered us, so it wasn't exactly a refreshing break. We could hardly move after that, but limped on past the cathedral to our B & B where our host took our wet things to dry and gave us tea in front of the fire. Hot baths also helped.

Lessons of the day: don't schedule 18 miles of road walking with nowhere sheltered to stop, and never, ever try to take a shortcut footpath on the Somerset Levels!

43, 359 steps, 32.519 km, 1, 383.3 cal
OS getamap measured distance: 17.00 mi (27.36 km)

[Although of course it would have been a much better walk had it not been so rainy and cold, even with better weather it would have still been a very tough day walking all that way on the road in hiking boots, even the light-duty ones we have. There actually was another way across the Levels that was about a mile shorter and did have a pub at around the halfway point, but it would have taken us for a couple of miles along a B-road that is the only major road to cross that part of the Levels, so I was afraid to take us that way as it is very scary—and dangerous—to walk along busy roads. But I'll always wonder just how busy that B-road really is...—Ken.]

Day 10 Nether Stowey to Cossington: A Workaday Walk

Canola (Rapeseed) Field East of Nether Stowey

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

This was a somewhat unremarkable but fairly long walking day, as we were leaving Exmoor and the Quantocks behind and needed to get some miles under our belts as we headed east towards Wells, the next day's destination. For these two days we would be leaving named national trails and recreational paths behind and traveling on fieldpaths, bridleways, and lanes that Ken has linked together to get us across this part of Somerset.

We first took a quick look at Nether Stowey church, and then Ken's fears regarding his chosen route were confirmed with the first footpath we entered: very few people walk these paths and so the farmers just ignore them and plow whither they will. Later we found better paths---with a little help from man's best friend! We were pathfinding and were unsure at what point to cross through a hedge. A black lab farm dog came through the hedge to our side and then walked back to his side, looking for all the world as if he wanted us to go through right there. We did, and he had led us correctly.

Lofty Cannington Church

At Cannington we experienced some traveller's mercy as we entered a pub and, although they were not yet open so couldn't serve us food, they let us use their facilities: three cheers for the King's Head, Cannington! Also in Cannington was a garden that we had seen featured in a DVD we borrowed at our local library, but alas, we did not have time to tour it, and it was very chilly anyway—definitely not good weather for garden viewing. We ate our packed lunch in the church porch to try to warm up as again the wind was cold. We very much liked the church, which had some attractive modern carvings and a strong and particularly lofty perpendicular style for a village church. The arches were unusually high and the roof was beautifully painted. As was to be expected in such a building, the acoustics of the church were excellent. We sang "Amazing Grace," likely heard by an unseen person in an office at the back of the church.

Cannington Church Reredos

The part of Bridgwater that we walked through wasn't attractive, but we hadn't expected it to be. On the way out of town we had to walk on the A-road, but here the value of Google street view was proven conclusively: while researching the route Ken had noticed that there was a pavement (i.e., sidewalk) running the length of our walk on that busy stretch, so we knew we would have a safe place to walk.

Approaching Bawdrip, we lost the path and had to wade through tall grass. Then the public right-of-way went through someone's property who didn't seem all that accommodating to walkers. There was electric fence tape on either side, powered by clicking and buzzing car batteries. There was a stile that you had to squeeze yourself through horizontally between the wooden bars—like doing the limbo sideways with a pack on your back. Ken went first, and put his hand into a gooey bird deposit on the fence. That wasn't the landowner's fault, but it felt all of a piece.

St. Michael's, Bawdrip

St. Michael's Church, Bawdrip offered a good resting place. It was also very interesting in that, unlike most English churches we've visited, it is almost a true (Greek) cross shape, with the pulpit situated under the crossing below the tower. I imagine that if the church were full it would be a challenge for a preacher to look in several directions to address the congregation!

We then located a disused railway-turned-bike-path with fun millennium-project sculptures placed along the way, and followed it to Cossington and from there to our farm B & B. (We often find the farm bed and breakfasts to be our favourites.) On arrival our host Sue served us tea and homemade coffee cake, and made us feel welcome and at home. Later she kindly drove us to the next village's pub for dinner, since the nearest pub was closed that evening. The Crown Inn, Catcott was fantastic. We sat in a cosy room with a roaring wood fire (certainly needed on such a cold evening), and there was a friendly and convivial atmosphere about the place. We enjoyed really great food—the broccoli cheese soup I had was outstanding. We also had our first meringue for dessert: a "fruit bomb" with a brown sugar meringue topped with ice cream, cream, raspberries and strawberries. After a long day of walking it was a sweet conclusion.

37,957 steps, 28.467 km, 1, 214.6 cal
OS getamap measured distance: 14.00 mi (22.53 km)

Day 9 Holford to Nether Stowey: A Coleridge Day on the Coleridge Way

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

When we sat down to plan the walk, we intentionally scheduled several shorter walking days—either to have an easy day after a long day or when we knew there was an attraction we wanted to visit. Today's walk falls into the latter category: a short 5 mile ramble first heading south up Holford Combe into the Quantocks, and then heading eastwards and down to the village of Nether Stowey, the home of Samuel Taylor Coleridge from 1797 to about 1800. (In fact, for part of the way today we were walking on the Coleridge Way, a recently created 36-mile trail from Nether Stowey to Porlock which follows in the footsteps of the poet and his friends William and Dorothy Wordsworth. We have already intermittently walked on this trail over the last day or so).

Almost upon our arrival in Holford last night, our B & B host Marilyn told us that her brother had had a kidney transplant 31 years ago and was still going strong, holding the record for the hospital where he had the transplant done. That was of course encouraging news to hear. She was also the first person on this trip to notice that Ken is wearing mismatched socks! His left boot fits more tightly than the right--because he had many gout attacks in his left big toe joint in the 1990s, that foot is actually wider, so he wears a thin sock on the left foot and a thick sock on the right. So far it has worked well.

Walking in Coleridge's footsteps...

...in beautiful Holford Combe.

The first stop on the road was at St. Mary's Church in Holford. As we were singing "Sometimes a Light Surprises," a beautiful hymn by William Cowper, we succeeded in surprising a sacristan who was just coming in to change the colors to white for Trinity Sunday. We had a good chat with her before we set out again. Holford Combe turned out to be an absolutely lovely little valley following a stream through woods of oak, holly, and one other ground-cover we couldn't identify. The sun filtered through the treetops, which grew closer and closer as we gained height at the head of the combe and turned eastwards towards Nether Stowey.
We then joined a road through the forest, with another deep valley beginning to form on our right and the dappled hillside on our left running up to an ancient hillfort at the top. A little later we left the road and broke out into the open with a marvelous view of the Somerset levels and coastline to the east and northeast, Wales northwards across the sea, and Nether Stowey just below us. It is interesting to think that we were walking in the footsteps of Wordsworth and Coleridge, who often walked in these beautiful valleys and hills. It is also easy to see how they would have been inspired here to write many of the poems that would make up their famous work Lyrical Ballads, which did much to initiate a revolution in English poetry. Indeed, it is strange to think that although Wordsworth and Coleridge came to be identified as the "Lake Poets" as a result of their undeniably strong connection to and residence in the Lake District, their earliest, groundbreaking work was produced in this beautiful corner of Somerset!

Coleridge Cottage

Coleridge's Quill Pen Set

We arrived in Nether Stowey in the early afternoon and, after a refreshing lemonade at the friendly local pub, had plenty of time to tour Coleridge Cottage just across the street. The National Trust has recently upgraded their exhibits here and Ken said that they did a great job of making something out of nothing, meaning that there were very few artifacts left from the time that Coleridge lived there, but they had done up the rooms to look like they might have when he was there. It is an excellent museum, with interesting and often interactive exhibits tracing the story of Coleridge's life and the family's time in Nether Stowey. A story I knew was featured—that Coleridge's wife Sara had accidentally spilled a pan of boiling milk on Coleridge's foot, which prevented him from going on a walk with the visiting William and Dorothy Wordsworth and Charles Lamb. Left at home, he instead wrote a poem, "This Lime Tree Bower my Prison." (Ken and I, when we lace on our boots in the morning, often say, "These hiking boots my prison," because there's no escaping them until the walk is done.) After a nice cream tea and cake at the tearoom and an exploration of the garden, where they have recently re-created the infamous lime tree bower, we retired to our B & B, which had a huge and comfortable room.

In the Kitchen

"This Lime Tree Bower My Prison"—A Recreation of the Original
(without Sara pouring anything on Ken's foot!)

We went to dinner at the same pub where we had had our nice drink earlier, but it was a rather different experience at dinner! We sat next to a couple who had just toured Cheddar Gorge (yes, where the cheese comes from). We chatted a bit and placed our food order—which had to be charged to table seven even though we we were at table five, because the previous order hadn't been cleared from table five. Ken ordered a spanikopita pie with vegetables and new potatoes, and I ordered chicken bites with dipping sauces and a side salad with tomatoes, cucumbers, and dressing. Ken's order arrived with the pie and chips. The server looked at it and noted it wasn't right. She said Ken could keep the chips (fries, in N. A.), and she would bring him some veg and new potatoes. At this point, our neighbors at the next table asked us if we knew of Fawlty Towers where we were from, and we said yes, we loved it. It seemed like we were having a slightly Fawlty-esque evening. They asked about a delay in their order, and when the server left I jokingly asked if they were waiting for a cheese salad. They said it was close—they had eaten dinner and were waiting . . . and waiting . . . for their final course of cheese and biscuits (crackers in N.A.). We had started eating—Ken's pie was lukewarm and slightly scorched on top, and the vegetables were barely cooked. My chicken was good, though the three sauces were ketchup, mayonnaise, and a spicy Thai sauce. I have no idea if that is usual or not. My salad had lettuce, cucumber, grapes, celery, peppers, but no tomatoes or dressing. Ken's new potatoes arrived a bit later, "nice and hot" the server said. They weren't new potatoes at all, but were small baker potatoes cut into slices. Soon after the potatoes arrived, our neighbors' cheese plate came. On it was an entire wheel of cheese wedges the circumference of a dinner plate—it could easily have fed twenty people! They tasted it and thought that it was composed of wedges of differently flavored cheddar. Usually you have a plate with a modest selection of three to four different kinds of cheese. We all giggled after the server left and joked back and forth about what could be done with that much cheese—doggie bags? I did feel a bit bad for the server who seemed new and stressed. I had a little less sympathy with the owner, who when I mentioned the different ingredients in my salad and that I had missed having the tomatoes (after he had asked if everything was fine with our meals) told me that they had run out of tomatoes two days ago. He had made similar comments to the other couple about running out of ingredients. I feel as though owners shouldn't expect guests to commiserate with them about problems with their business—something else that does happen on Fawlty Towers. Nevertheless, we did enjoy the evening, and really our meal was fine [Note that Sara is being a polite Canadian at this point!—Ken]. We didn't order cheese and biscuits, however!

14,249 steps, 10.686 km, 417.5 cal
OS getamap measured distance: 4.61 mi (7.42 km) 

Day 8 Washford to Holford: Cleeve, Cake, and Quantocks

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

Today got off to a rough start. The bathroom window at the White Horse Inn used a small key to latch it shut, and the key fell out of the window when Ken tried to shut it. Fortunately, he was able to retrieve the key from the driveway of the house next door. At breakfast I attempted to pass across to Ken some of my scrambled eggs, and they fell into the condiment tray between us. I managed to fish them out discretely.

Cleeve Abbey Gatehouse

The Refectory

Things got better after that. We toured Cleeve Abbey, which is one of the best preserved monasteries in England, particularly the living quarters. It really helped us to get a sense of how the monks lived their daily lives. The refectory, where the monks ate their meals, was particularly striking, with a magnificent roof with projecting angels carved from wood. There was a dormitory as well as a floor composed of medieval painted tiles that were protected under a tent—the tiles were fairly well preserved and were decorated with birds, shields and other heraldic patterns.

The Cloister —Refectory Above

Near the end of our tour the Abbey really did come to life, as there were little Cistercian monks running around: children were able to dress up like monks, and they seemed to enjoy it. We concluded our time there with a small pot each of very local ice cream.

Medieval Tiles with Royal Arms

I should explain that many of the walking paths are often in sunken lanes, with hedgerows on either side. The hedgerows do differ, with various combinations of some of the same plants. You obviously can't see to the other side of the hedge, so all sorts of life could be going on beyond the hedge that you wouldn't know about. As we started out on today's wooded path, we heard shooting ahead. We could tell we were getting closer to it, and it made us a bit nervous. Ken shouted out "We surrender!" and the shooting stopped. As we passed by we could hear the shooting starting again—perhaps skeet.

Sampford Brett Church

After lunch in Williton, we walked to the small village of Sampford Brett and looked at the church, which had a really good feeling about it—although the village itself is associated with one of the four knights who murdered Thomas à Becket at Canterbury! The pew-ends had interesting carvings, and Ken liked the color scheme of cream walls and white moldings that looked like plaster. I actually had a nap on a pew for fifteen minutes. We sang "Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee." Passing the village hall, we saw many people cleaning up and leaving after some kind of celebration. A young man exited holding a flat cookie sheet with something on it. He looked at us and said, "Would you like some cake?" It turned out to be his grandfather's 80th birthday, and everyone was very happy. We gladly accepted the cake as fuel for the hills to come! The Quantock hills awaited just past the next village of Bicknoller.

The walk up Bicknoller Combe yielded some great views. When we reached the top, there was a post (Bicknoller Post) to mark the meeting of several paths. Having seen no one on our ascent, we saw two cyclists coming on one path, a single walker on another, and three walkers on a third. We converged with the three, and joked that it looked as though we had all arranged to meet there. They responded, "It's great to see you, how have you been?"

Climbing up the Quantocks via Bicknoller Combe

Bicknoller Post, Quantock Hills

The relatively flat and featureless top of the Quantock range was a bit confusing, with many paths or potential paths—more than were marked on the 1:25,000 scale Ordnance Survey map we were using—and Ken impressed me with his navigational skill by eventually getting us down to Alfoxden House, which I really wanted to see because William and Dorothy Wordsworth had lived there at the end of the eighteenth century. I knew it had ceased to be a hotel a few years back, but it was really sad to see how run down it was, though there seemed to be people living in some of the rooms while other parts of the complex seemed to be in the process of being gutted. We did see a large group of deer outside, something Dorothy had mentioned in her journal, so it wasn't a total loss.  It was a slightly depressing way to end the day, although a friendly welcome from our bed and breakfast host and a nice meal at the Plough Inn in Holford village did much to raise our spirits.

32,077 steps, 24.057 km, 943 cal
OS getamap measured distance: 10.89 mi (17.53 km)

[Sara's later note: It was fascinating to think that Nature--the herd of deer--was doing much better two hundred years after the Wordsworths than Culture--Alfoxden House, which was in such disrepair.]

Taking in the View / Wayfinding

Alfoxden House—Now sadly run down

Day 7 Dunster to Washford: Two Castles and a Walk to Washford

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

Today we had the morning to explore Dunster, and then walked to Washford in the afternoon—a manageable 6 or 7 miles away. First we toured St. George's Church where we had experienced the bell-ringing the night before. It is almost like two separate churches, with a long altar screen that separates the space. This separation actually arose out of a dispute in the Middle Ages between the local monks who used the east end and the villagers who used the west end. The screen itself is amazingly carved oak, which is at least something beautiful that resulted from a petty squabble. Since we were the only ones there except for a woman arranging flowers, we went ahead and sang one verse of "O Come, O Come Emmanuel."

Sara at Dunster Castle

Made the first, missed almost all the rest!

It was still very cold, with strong winds. We walked in the freezing cold to Dunster Castle, and found it a fascinating tour of a medieval building that had been remodeled twice, in the seventeenth and nineteenth centuries. The Luttrell family owned the castle for hundreds of years, only giving it to the National Trust in the mid-twentieth century. Interesting fact of the day: they put seashells under the dance floor to deaden the sound of the dancers' feet. Ken had the opportunity to try his hand at billiards in the billiard room and made his first shot. Another highlight was the library (of course), because it was actually a cosy space in which you could picture yourself reading. There was a James Bond novel on a side table, which also made the library seem lived in and not stuffy.

Dunster High Street

After we finished, we wanted to find a good lunch spot, so the helpful and friendly ticket seller advised us not to go to the castle's tea room which had only outdoor seating (brrrrrrrrr!), but to try Nutcombe Chocolates on the High Street. Hot chocolate sounded like a good idea, and it was excellent. I had milk chocolate, Ken had white. I tried a whortleberry jam sandwich, and liked it. Whortleberries are a local fruit similar to blueberries. We had a good chat with a couple at the next table who were walkers and lived near the Pennines.

Ancient Bat's Castle

Medieval Gallox Bridge

Our walk took us out of Dunster via the medieval Gallox Bridge, and then uphill (you expected something different?) to Bat's Castle, which isn't a castle currently but is instead an ancient (400-100 BC) settlement. All that is left are earth and stone ramparts and a trench, but I love the feeling of walking over a thin crust of nature hiding layers of history. I did dream of being an archaeologist when I was in grade five. . . .

Withycombe Church

After taking in the wonderful, panoramic view from the top of the hill despite the wind, we walked down towards our destination, Washford. On the way we visited one of our favorite churches so far, St. Nicholas in Withycombe. Rather unimpressive outside, the inside of the church was beautiful, with a barrel vault, a nice carved rood screen like that at Dunster, and a particularly good burial effigy of Elizabeth de Meriet with intricate carved stone candlesticks at each end. They also had a kettle and tea and coffee so visitors could have a hot drink. We felt very welcome and comfortable there. We sang three verses of "And Can It Be," since it was John and Charles Wesley's feast day.

20,811 steps, 15.608 km, 573.4 cal
OS getamap measured distance: 7.22 mi (11.62 km)

The De Meriet Effigy, St. Nicholas Church, Withycombe

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)

Day 5 Lynmouth to Porlock: A Long Day on the South West Coast Path

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

Our kindly B & B hosts at Hillside House came out of the front door to wave us goodbye, a friendly sendoff for what would turn out to be a long, long day of walking—perhaps our longest walk of the trip in terms of the time it would take to complete. We began by walking to the Lynmouth seafront and then we turned westwards along the always ascending cliff path to Countisbury. The cliff edge wasn't often all that terribly sheer, but there was enough of a height to make us enjoy the ocean views rather sparingly and concentrate on moving forward and upward. The weather was gray and windy, varying between spots of sun and spits of rain.

Looking Back to Lynmouth and Lynton

When finally we reached the top of the cliff path at Countisbury, we stopped in St. John the Baptist Church and sang "Praise, My Soul, the King of Heaven," Ken surprising me with a descant. On leaving Countisbury we got a good view of Lynmouth and Lynton through the sun and mist, and Ken suggested a different route slightly further inland which avoided a long, exposed walk around a headland—and its cliff path.

This alternative led us on nice soft paths through pastures with sheep and more of those supposedly rare yet seemingly ubiquitous Exmoor ponies! Further on, we ignored a sign indicating that the path had been diverted, because we weren't certain it referred to our particular path. It did, but we didn't learn that till later. After walking through a group of curious red Devon cows, we found a nice spot for our lunch sheltered amongst the gorse.

We started off again on the trail, which eventually dwindled and then disappeared. We crossed a small stream and tried a path next to a fence, but there were several large trees that had fallen and blocked the path at intervals. We recrossed the stream and I led the way through the woods, where we reconnected with the South West Coast Path about where Ken thought we would. [Sara is good at bushwhacking—Ken.] This little adventure delayed us quite a bit, with the lesson being: don't ignore signs saying the path is closed!

On one of the best stretches of the Coast Path—"The Rhodo Ramble"

Eventually we came to a place where we had to make a choice about which path to take. Our guidebook indicated that the one we were choosing was a half hour shorter, not as rugged, and less steep than the other trail. Wrong on all counts. It was the steepest hill we had ever climbed, of slightly loose reddish rock that gave way under foot. After making it to the top, we met a group of walkers whom we had passed earlier in the day—they were doing a loop walk. We contoured a combe, and then had to walk straight up the side of another hill, this time grassy with another very steep grade. All in all, it was or at least seemed worse than the hill coming out of Grosmont on Wainwright's Coast to Coast path, mainly because it was so unexpected. After getting to the top, the path was better, though we could have done without meeting the five friendly dogs with muddy paws who jumped on us both. We did, however, have great views and saw some very cute lambs!

"Little Lamb, who made thee?"

Later, we took a side trip to get a photo of Ash Farm, where Coleridge apparently wrote "Kubla Kahn" (look up "Person from Porlock" in Wikipedia), and then descended to the tiny hamlet of Culbone, home of the smallest parish church in England. Not much bigger than the average living room, little Culbone church was delightful, though I think we were both getting tired by this time.

Ash Farm

Culbone Church

When we finally descended out of the coastal wood, we discovered that the road from Porlock Weir to Porlock was longer than we thought and (of course) uphill. We walked the road painfully but quickly since we were so late, arriving at our B & B around 7:30 p.m. Despite our very late arrival we received a very warm welcome from our hosts and loved our tiny room in thatched Myrtle Cottage, Porlock. After recovering for a bit, we staggered to the Ship Inn for dinner, Sara enjoying the best beef stew she's ever had.

[Sara's later note: our Lynmouth B&B hosts were so kind that they gave us a postcard of Watersmeet to take with us, since we had mentioned that in our haste to get to the B&B we had neglected to take a photo of Watersmeet's beauty.]

40,454 steps, 30.340 km, 1206.2 cal
OS getamap measured distance: 13.98 mi (22.50 km)

Ken at Myrtle Cottage, Porlock

Day 4 A (Cold) Rest Day with Regent Friends

This turned out to be another good day—featuring a surprise visit from our friends Christine and Julia, whom we know from our time at Regent College. We had initially planned for an easy day, just looking around Lynmouth and Lynton and environs; in fact, it was an early "rest day" in hindsight brilliantly scheduled by Ken, given our soreness from the long walk yesterday. But last night Christine phoned our B & B to let us know that she was staying with Julia near Exeter, and that they would like to come up and share the day with us. So like our impromptu day with Amos & Helen, it was a wonderful way to explore the area with friends!

On the Grounds at Lee Abbey—It is always nice to see old friends...

The only hitch was that the weather, although not rainy, was very cold! This would not usually be a problem except that we—particularly Ken—had given much of our clothes to our kind hosts at our B & B so they could wash them for us. Ken only had two thin, short-sleeved base layer shirts on under his lightweight rain jacket, so he was not especially eager to go out for long walks on the coastal path shivering in the frigid wind! 

Riding the Cliff Railway

Ken and I took the Victorian water powered railway up the cliff from Lynmouth to Lynton, with good views out to the ocean. While we were waiting, we went into St. Mary's Church, which was rather dark inside, but had an interesting barrel-vaulted ceiling.

Julia and Christine picked us up and we decided to go to Lee Abbey, a nineteenth-century mansion turned golf hotel turned Christian conference center where Julia had worked for several years. It was the first day the tea room was open for the season, so we had lunch there, successfully confusing the new staff with our orders. We then toured Lee Abbey itself, and later went for a lovely short walk on a cliff path on the abbey grounds—which gave us a foretaste of the next day's cliff top walk to Porlock. While Ken was a bit nervous at the occasional sheer drop near the path edge, I enjoyed learning from Julia some of the names of the plants I was seeing. We learned that gorse blooms smell like coconut.

Oh how cute!

We went to the tea room again for an afternoon cream tea—scones, jam, clotted cream and tea. A photographer took multiple photos of our group consuming tea. I will have to look on their website later to see if we show up as part of their promotion!

After that, we drove to the Valley of Rocks, a curious "dry valley" right near the coastline, stopping when we spotted a group of Exmoor ponies grazing near the cliff edge. For all their rarity, we got to see them up close for a second day in a row.

Exmoor Ponies, Valley of Rocks

We got a ride back to Lynmouth and said goodbye. Then we headed out for dinner, ending up at the Bath Hotel. We had one of those delightful happenstances of ending up talking with the couple at the next table, who were older walkers from Somerset, near Wells. We must have chatted an hour after finishing our meals, just enjoying the exchange of experiences and the lovely evening . . . inside, well out of the freezing wind! Then we headed to our B & B where our fresh laundry awaited us: I sniffed it (!!!) appreciatively as I folded it. Laundry is important, since we only have four pairs of underwear and socks, the most vital elements of our garb.

All in all it was the perfect rest day, and so nice to share time with friends old and new.

12,977 steps, 9.732 km, 350.2 cal

Cold but Happy in Lynmouth