B2B Day 10 Crowcombe to North Petherton--A Fyne Day on the Quantocks

For an OS map of today's walk (13.2 mi; 21.2 km; 1,514 ft total ascent) click here.

Our day began with a lovely breakfast at Puddies Meadow B & B.  The breakfast was particularly good. There were fresh berries, and we especially liked the thin toast which was toasted with a grid pattern. Our host Trish offered to make us some sandwiches because we wouldn't find any at the village shop, and we gladly accepted. Her husband Rob showed us the way to the path, and Olive the dog demonstrated how we should leap over a short fence onto the path, but we left the leaping to her, and we more sedately stepped over the fence and began our uphill walk.

We walked through several fields and then through moorland, and came to The Drove, a wide dirt path through the trees. On either side, there was an old stone wall with trees growing on it, their old roots twisting down to the bottom of the wall.

Ken on the Drove

We set out onwards to Wills Neck (the highest hill of the Quantock range), and there were several people on horses who rode by. One woman said that the views ordinarily weren't that clear, but today you could see Wales. 

The horses (as you can see, it was a grey and sometimes rainy day)

One of the views from Wills Neck, with Minehead in the distance

We walked down one hill, then on the back of Lydeard Hill, overlooking the Vale of Taunton Deane. It was quite chilly, and we approached a car park thinking that we might find a bench to sit on and eat our lunch. Sara said she felt she must be hallucinating, because she smelled chips cooking. We were hoping that the smell meant there was a refreshment stand or van at the car park. There wasn't. It was a family with a camp stove cooking just on the side of the hill. We sat on a bench parallel to them, and when the woman cooking doled out the food and said, "Sausage, sausage, sausage" as she gave each person their sausage, we were hoping she would keep going to give us a sausage as well, mainly because we were so cold. That didn't happen. Instead, we really enjoyed our tomato and cheese sandwiches, which were delicious. We were surprised that we had two sandwiches each, so we ate one and a half for lunch. 

We carried on downhill, and a little later decided to take the (more direct) road instead of the Macmillan Way, which went far down, then back up the hill. The road was much more level but quite busy and tiring on the feet after a couple of miles. However, at a junction we were surprised to come upon the Pines Cafe.

The Pines Cafe, at a busy intersection

We stopped there, and shared a slice of lemon cake, which was fine but not outstanding. We continued on a less busy road till we got to Fyne Court, a National Trust property. It was very busy, but in a nice way. It was near the end of the day for their cafe, and the cafe had run out of some things (like scones). We were glad we had opted for an ice cream each because it was warm by this time. We sat at a picnic bench outside and watched the families. The little kids in one family were having a great time with some strands of what we call sticky weed--the weed that is long and stringy and sticks to you, and if you let it keep growing, it later forms burrs. The kids were playing a kind of tag by throwing the sticky weed onto their dad and trying to make it stay. 

Fun at Fynes Court

After resting, we set out again and came down to a valley Ken really liked.

A pastoral view as we started our valley walk

After the valley, we went on a forest path which went on for several miles. At first it was nice, but after awhile we got really, really tired, almost as tired as if we had been walking on a road (the path surfaced hardened more and more as we went until it was almost as hard as asphalt. Finally we came to the end of the forest, got to an actual road, took the second public footpath we came to, followed the path . . . and ended up at a locked gate even though we thought we were on a public footpath. We had to climb the gate, and the road didn't seem quite right after that, but Ken got us oriented and eventually to our B&B in North Petherton. Our hosts Kate and Richard were friendly and welcomed us into their home, and I got to do laundry. Ken went to a store to supplement our dinner of the sandwiches we had left from lunch. We ate in the garden and enjoyed seeing all of the plants and hearing the birds sing. Kate is an artist, and we really liked the style of their home.

B2B Day 9 Luxborough to Crowcombe--Leaving the Coleridge Way

For an OS map of today's walk (13.23 mi; 21.3 km; 1,943 ft total ascent) click here.

Today we were both tired and wondered if we would make it to our night's destination, but we did. We had several uphill and downhill parts to the day's walk.

The host at the Royal Oak had kindly dried our boots, stuffed with newspaper, by the radiator. Ken asked if people still took newspapers, and the host said that they did take two newspapers that came once a week. The inside of our boots were nice and dry, though the outside looked still wet with bits of grass and other things. Walking through the fields today cleaned them up somewhat.

We began going through fields which had thankfully mostly dried from yesterday's rain. We encountered many, many sheep, including a field of rams.

A shorn ram

It seemed to take a long time before we got to the forest path.

One of the views, showing the reddish soil of the ploughed fields

Crossing one field, it looked like there were two cows guarding their fort from intrusion:

Cows defending their hill fort

We went through Longridge Wood, which was well-waymarked (always a comfort, since forest paths can be deceptive, as we've found!).

We arrived at Roadwater and stopped at the Valiant Soldier pub, where Ken had a pint of lemonade. The publican was really nice, and we liked the feel of the pub. We then went to the Roadwater store, run by volunteers from the community.

A bench outside Roadwater Stores

We bought two sandwiches, one of which we thought was ham and tomato. When we got outside the store to a bench outside where we were going to eat (with a nice garden beside it), we found that it was cheese and tomato. I went in to mention the incorrect labelling, and they kindly gave us a ham salad sandwich and let us keep the cheese and tomato sandwich. We enjoyed seeing people come and go to what seemed like a very busy community shop.

As we were leaving Roadwater, we saw thatchers newly thatching a roof, which was fascinating to see. On one side of the house, the workers were taking handfuls of straw out of large bags and fitting them onto the roof. On the other side of the house, one worker was using what looked like a hedge trimmer to trim the straw roof, and the other one had what looked like a flat toothed instrument with which he whacked the roof to pack things down and comb out loose bits.

Thatchers at work

 Instead of going up on the official Coleridge Way, where there was a friendly horse waiting at the path entrance,

we decided to walk along a trail that was formerly the West Somerset Mineral Railway. Sara took a photo of the mineral railway waymark.

We don't watch Dr. Who, but doesn't it look a bit like a tardis?

We walked through a tunnel that took us under the railway, and up a steep uphill farm track. When we got to the top, there were dire warnings about how impassible the road was. Having walked from bottom to top, we believed it! No car or truck could get down there and return to tell the tale.

After we reached the top of this dire farm track, we decided to take a different (and we hoped, more level) path than the Coleridge Way. We began by opening a gate in a garden's fence that was like entering wonderland. It was beautiful, and the pathway was mown. The next path was nice as well: though without a path, it had a good meadow.

Ken walking through the meadow

The next field, however, had no discernible public footpath, and where the footpath should have been was full of brush, fallen trees, and other obstacles. We thought we saw a faint trail in the grass, walked along it, and came to the other side of the field. No gate or outlet. We went down a slight slope through ferns and other plants to see if we could find the path or gate, but there was nothing. We ended up turning right and walking along the fenceline to find an outlet. We ended up trespassing through a farm with quite a posh-looking manor house, up on a red muddy path to the farm road and then out. We lost a lot of time doing that. Farmers are obligated to keep the public right-of-way open, and we were not too happy that the one in whose field we found ourselves had not done so.

Once back on a path, it took us through several fields, including one of grain that felt soft to the touch if you waved your hands over it while walking:

Walking through waist-high grain

We arrived in Monksilver and stopped at the Notley Arms for a pint of lemonade. It was a beautiful pub, and the people were friendly. We sat out in the garden and heard the bell-ringers practicing. We really liked that village, and as we walked out we chatted with a woman who was one of the bellringers.

The village of Monksilver

After walking through two fields with the path bounded on one side by an electric fence, and on the other side by the ever-present nettles, we walked through a sunken lane and then on to Stogumber walking on the roads. 

At one point, we were heading uphill on a road, and we saw a man driving several cows down the road. We asked him what we should do, and he said just to talk to them as they walked down. The cows were extremely skittish, and they balked and didn't want to go past us. We were worried they would hurt themselves, because at certain points they were almost climbing over each other to turn around and get away from us. The man behind them in a vehicle managed to coax them past us. We discovered later that the cows had "lost it" in their excitement and that our trousers had been somewhat affected by the encounter.

At Stogumber, we stopped at the shop but there were no sandwiches.We went on to the pub where Ken got a pint of lemonade, and we walked along the road to Crowcombe. When we arrived in the village and were heading down the street leading to our B&B, it was a bit surreal to experience a teenager going down the street on a segue playing loud rap music. We've been out in the countryside so much it seemed out of place. We met our host Trish on her way to Yoga class, who greeted us and told us that her husband would make us at home. He did. We ate our dinner in the garden, and Rob brought us some tea. Olive the lovely black lab kept us company, and we enjoyed seeing the birds and flowers. It was nice to end so peacefully what was a long and sometimes painful day of walking.

B2B Day 8 Porlock to Luxborough—Mizzling, Muddy, Meeting Folk

An OS map of today's walk (13.1 mi; 21 km; 2,604 ft total ascent) can be found here.

The weather forecast was accurate for today--most of the day was walking in mizzle (mist and drizzle), with a few periods of rain. Because of the weather, we took almost no photos, since we didn't want to get water on the camera lens.

Note the rain on Ken's sleeve

Ken had anticipated that it would be a difficult day of walking over Dunkery hill, so he had asked our hosts if we could arrange for luggage transfer to our next place. Nigel kindly made the arrangements, and so for the first time we traveled only with a day pack which we shared carrying. It did seem to make a difference not having 13-15 pounds on our backs (depending on how much water we are carrying).

Here is Ken at the Jubilee Hut on the Holnicote estate (which we walked through):

After crossing a road near Webber's Post, we saw women on four horses, one of them a beautiful appaloosa that had spotting like a Dalmation.

Instead of walking to the top of Dunkery Beacon, which was covered in mist, we walked the Coleridge Way which circled around the side of the hill. It had the advantage of a bit less uphill walking (though there was still plenty of that), not wondering if we would get lost in fog, and meeting a few other people. It is always interesting having people become part of our story and for us to become part of their stories, even if it's after just a five minute conversation. We first met a woman with two dogs, one a Doberman on a tight lead. She was friendly and we had a nice chat about the views that we could have seen and the fact that it was beautiful even though it was rainy. Then another woman with a dog with whom we just exchanged greetings. Then a man walking by himself who passed us with a hello, and then from behind us he called out, "Excuse me, are you walking the Coleridge Way?" He had seen Sara carrying printed directions of the Coleridge Way walk, and so we came back and chatted.

Sara's waterlogged and mud/dung besmeared Coleridge Way directions

He was walking the Coleridge Way in sections, and had walked the Cotswolds Way five times. He and Ken agreed that the north of the Cotswolds was the most beautiful. We had a very nice chat, and set off in our different directions. He appeared not even to have a day pack with him, but just to be walking unencumbered from place to place.

Later on Mick's path we met two women who were friendly and said they were part of a group, and they were shortly followed by two men and another woman. One man was especially chatty, and said that we were the first walkers they had encountered on the Coleridge Way in the three days they had been walking. They seemed impressed that we were on a 26 day walk, and didn't think our distances were short. They asked if there was any place ahead to eat lunch, and we suggested that there would be some trees which would provide some shelter ahead.

We walked down to a creek and stood and ate our lunch there--half of a chicken mayo sandwich each, and Sara had a chocolate chip biscuit.

We walked uphill for what seemed a very long time. We curved around the side of the hill. At one point Sara saw blue ahead and thought it was a shed or something, but it was sheep--blue sheep! Many of the sheep have numbers sprayed on their sides for identification, so we will often say, "Hello, number 5!" as we pass by. But these sheep had their entire backs, tops of their heads, and horns painted blue.

We walked down, down, down to the River Avill, and forded a few streams by walking on stones. Ken chose a bridleway on the other side because it wasn't too steep. We then came up, up, up again, crossed a road, and went up, up, up on a muddy bridleway. We joined the entrance drive to a manor house near Wheddon Cross and met a man walking his dog. He greeted us with, "You're not walking the Coleridge Way backwards, are you?" He said that the Royal Oak (where we were going to stay) was a good place, and they had done it up nicely. He gave us advice on paths to Wheddon Cross, but we ended up taking the road. We met another man and dog with whom we chatted, and he recommended the Royal Oak as well. We stopped at the "Rest and Be Thankful Inn" at Wheddon Cross; we did, and we were.

Sara at the "Rest and Be Thankful"

We set out from Wheddon Cross on Popery Lane, then up a path with slippery rock, and then into field after field. One with cute sheep, one with curious and ever moving closer cows, one a beautiful meadow with flowers. However, with all of the rain continuing to come down, the fields were of course WET. Ken felt his feet grow damp first, and Sara eventually did too. There also seemed to be a superabundance of sheep manure everywhere.

Then a long descent through a forest, then down red muddy farm lanes, along the road, and to Luxborough to the Royal Oak Inn. We arrived around 5:30. We had a comfortable room and a delicious dinner. Because it was cold and wet, Sara wanted something with chips, so had fish and chips. Ken liked the tartar sauce, which had some unusual herb in it (tarragon?). Ken had a beef, mushroom, and ale pie with mashed potatoes. We've now had a few really good pub meals, and this was one of them. That left not much time in the evening except to rest and be thankful.

Our room at the Royal Oak, Luxborough

B2B Day 7 Rest, Railway Rides, and Tea

This morning Sara had what she had long been waiting for: a breakfast of hot buttered crumpets at Myrtle Cottage B & B in Porlock! She was not disappointed, and was glad to partake of the delicious crumpets again, a rare treat.

We had several options for our rest day, but decided to ride the West Somerset Railway from Minehead to Crowcombe Heathfield. Nigel kindly dropped us at the station as he was going to Minehead to shop.

This particular train line is run by volunteers, and the stations and trains have a vintage look. All of the stations look amazing, and you can tell that keeping the stations and trains looking great is a labour of love. When we walked past a compartment car with sliding doors, like you see in films and shows covering the periods from the late nineteenth to mid-twentieth century, it felt like we had stepped back in time.

They run steam trains and diesel trains. We caught a steam train and rode to Blue Anchor.

Ken on our train to the Blue Anchor

The Blue Anchor station was beautiful, and we thought we would walk on the beach there. It was cold and windy.

A windblown Sara at Blue Anchor

Feeling a bit too cold, we walked back to the station and admired the beautiful gardens, and went inside the station waiting room. They had various snacks, including Starburst candy for sale for 50p, and Twix for 75p. Ken hadn't had Starburst for years, so he got one, and Sara got a Twix. The Starburst flavours were a bit different from what we were used to, and included blackcurrant.

We resumed our ride by getting onto a diesel train from 1960. We got off at Crowcombe Heathfield, our favourite station for two reasons: first, we had seen the station when we rode the same train in 2015 on a trip with Sara's Dad and thought it was beautiful; second, a musician that Ken likes named Keith Chesterton recorded one of his songs at that station, "Travel Safely, Sing Sweetly."

The beautiful Crowcombe Heathfield station

We looked at the beautiful gardens and were let into the station waiting room. We knew there probably wouldn't be lunch there, as it was a small station, but we asked for tea and a slice of lemon cake each. The woman who served us was really nice, and she got us a little table and our tea and cake (the tea was in Crowcombe Heathfield station mugs). We all chatted together about walking and travel, and she told us she and her husband had taken the train from Vancouver to Jasper.

Tea at Crowcombe Heathfield station

We didn't get the woman's name until after we were waiting for the train, and we called across the tracks to learn that her name was Gina. Being able to meet people and talk with them makes a trip special and unique.

We then got on a steam train for our return trip to Minehead. After that, we waited for a mini-bus (16 passengers) to take us to Allerford Turn. The bus was a bit late, and at a later stop we saw why. The driver knew everybody, and when a man was getting on the bus, the driver asked him what the password was! She (the driver) also chatted with him about some photos she wanted to get to him somehow, through email or printing them off. I think he realized that their conversation was holding up the whole bus, so he came in and sat down. We knew that another woman was getting off at our stop, so we just watched her and then disembarked at the same time.

Ken had to take a picture of Allerford Bridge, even though he had taken some before in 2013.

Allerford Bridge

We knew that we were going to have a cream tea at Kitnors in Bossington, so we walked a short distance on the road and arrived at Bossington.

Kitnors Tea Room

The tea as a whole was lovely, but the clotted cream was outstanding--so thick that the spoon stood up in it. We each had a scone and a half, with cream and jam. It was satisfying, especially because we never really had lunch.

Tea at Kitnors

There was an adorable robin perched on a tree near us. Sara loved watching it.

Waiting for crumbs

After tea, we walked back to Porlock, about 1.5 miles. Near Bossington Street, we saw a field which was full of bunnies along one side--you could just see ears sticking up in a lot of places, or silhouettes of bunnies further away.

Once in Porlock, we picked up a sandwich to share for dinner, and then rested in our B & B before heading out to a local lecture on "An Exmoor Farmer's Wife" held in the Village Hall. We got to the hall (only a few minutes away), and there were people with dogs sitting outside. We walked into the hall, approached a lady sitting at a table who looked like she was collecting the money, and said we were here for the lecture. She looked puzzled, and said that it was always a dog management class on Tuesday nights. (Ken said to Sara that would explain why we saw so many people with dogs!) We looked at the meeting room in the lower hall, which was closed, and the lady supposed we must have got the wrong evening. We saw a poster on the way back to our B&B, which said that the lecture was Wednesday night--but a calendar at our B&B (which must have been what Sara had seen) said the lecture was Tuesday night. We were a bit disappointed.

Sara took some photos of our B & B, Myrtle Cottage, instead. It has a newly thatched roof which still looks golden.

Ken and the seals in our bedroom at Myrtle Cottage

B2B Day 6 Brendon to Porlock--Uphill Again

For an OS map of today's walk (10 mi.; 16 km; 1,562 ft total ascent), click here.

This morning after a hearty granola breakfast we say goodbye to Nigel and Annie and to the lovely shepherd’s hut. 

Sara outside the shepherd's hut

It was cloudy and threatening rain when we left. We decided to take the path through Southernwood rather than the road, even though we knew the path would be steeper. It was. We navigated our first major climb of the day, and then came down the path into sunshine and Malmsmead, where there was a Lorna Doone path, Lorna Doone Farm (a gift shop) and Lorna Doone Inn with refreshments. 

The Lorna Doone Inn

We ordered a ham and mustard baguette to go, to take with us for lunch. We did sit at a table outside for a rest, watching the cars drive through the splash. 

The splash beside the bridge at Malmsmead

We then set out down the narrow road to Oare. 

As one driver was creeping past us, pressed into the hedgerow at the side of the road, he rolled down his window and said teasingly, “Mind your toes!”

We liked little Oare church, which was small and bright. 

The interior of Oare church (west end)

After Oare church, we set out on our upwards path. It went up and up, and of course we needed to rest in order to take in the splendid views!

The view from the top

Once at the top, we crossed a major road and then could see the ocean, and took a path downwards to join the South West Coast Path section we had taken before in 2013, and enjoyed it again (especially knowing that the major climb was over). It was windy and fairly cold. 

Sheep, ocean, and a brisk breeze

We stopped and sat on a small bank at the side of the road near Parsonage Farm. There were various family members who walked up and down the road, and instead of discouraging us from sitting on their land, they made us feel most welcome. One woman kindly invited us to sit in their garden at a picnic bench, but we were almost done eating. Our takeaway sandwich came with tortilla chips and salad, and we put the salad inside the sandwich. It was all quite good.

We set off again and took photos of Ash Farm, where the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge apparently was resting when he wrote “Kubla Khan” (and was famously interrupted by a person from Porlock, as we mentioned in 2013). 

Ash Farm

As we were going on the road down the hill towards the Worthy Toll Road, a man in a car drove slowly past us, rolled down his window, and said, “It seemed like a good idea at the time.” We think he was referring to himself, and that he had found that the road became poorer the further he went, so he had turned around.

Walkers weren’t permitted on the Worthy Road, so we took the woodland path, partly following the instructions for the Coleridge Way that we had printed out. The instructions were poor, most frustratingly describing the path as going downhill when it went uphill. 

The Coleridge Way directions were poor, but the woods were fascinating

We also had some fairly steep downhill walking, and we took a zig-zag path down through woods infiltrated by rhododendrons, coming out at the bottom at Porlock Weir. 

Ken going downhill through the ferns to Porlock Weir

We had a good time looking around the weir, and we had some lemonade at the Ship Inn (the Bottom Ship; the Top Ship is in Porlock). 

Porlock weir

At the Ship Inn in Porlock Weir

Our path to Porlock began on a shingle beach, and hearing the large rocks underfoot was an interesting sound—sort of like someone clicking bricks together. 

Colourful shingle

After we left the shingle beach behind, we decided to take the road—a bit uphill but not bad. The experience was nothing like we remembered in 2013, when we had walked from Lynmouth to Porlock, were quite late, and were walking as quickly as we could uphill to Porlock, arriving at our B&B at 7:30 p.m. This time we arrived at a respectable 5:15.

We had a warm greeting from Nigel (and later from Jan), who served us tea in the garden. Yes, we have had two hosts named Nigel and two named Jan so far, and they have all been wonderful.

We had dinner at The Ship Inn (the top ship in Porlock). It was Bank Holiday Monday, but we got one of the last tables and enjoyed a delicious meal, the best pub meal by far we’ve had this trip. We thought we’d order something different, so Ken had venison meatballs in stroganoff sauce with basmati rice, and Sara had pork steak with mustard sauce, mashed potatoes, and broccoli. The portions were reasonable rather than gargantuan, and so we shared a sticky toffee pudding with vanilla ice cream for dessert—a sweet ending to the day.

B2B Day 5 A Day of Rest

We didn’t set an alarm today, knowing that we were going to take it easy, not suspecting quite how easy we were going to take it. Ken said he felt the same as the day before, and not any better. We started with breakfast—a delicious granola with milk from our outdoor cooler (a terra cotta pot with lid nestled in a larger terra cotta pot that must have ice or cold water in it), and tea. Maybe around 9:30 Nigel delivered our fresh laundry. Sara had to sniff it when putting it away—she always gets excited about clean clothes.

It was misting and drizzling on and off, and Ken didn’t feel well, so we decided truly to have a day of rest. 

Ken in bed

Sara again read from the introduction of Lorna Doone to Ken, resuming at the troublesome paddle steamers. The irony of reading about Lorna Doone and foregoing the day’s walk in Doone Valley was not lost on us. But there’s a story about that . . .

When we were first married, Sara began reading aloud to Ken at night. Lorna Doone was a book we attempted in the first couple of years, and is one of the few books that we hadn’t finished reading together (the other is Dante’s Divine Comedy—we are stuck in purgatory). Sara’s friend Frances had described R. D. Blackmore’s sentences as “Latinate”—long and torturous. The book is probably lovely when it’s read silently, but read aloud, the sentences are so long you are just begging for them to come to an end. Blackmore is also a very rhythmic writer, so that many of the sentences have the same rhythm, which (1) makes it difficult to read expressively, and (2) tends to lull one to sleep.

For the trip this year, we knew we were returning to Exmoor. Last time we visited Exmoor we didn’t go to Doone valley, so we planned for a Lorna Doone day trip this time. In preparation for the trip, we restarted the novel and tried to finish it before we came to England, but only succeeded in getting about halfway. We also rediscovered that the rhythms and sentence structures make the novel rather sleep-inducing--two to five pages are enough to put Ken to sleep every time.

So it somehow seemed fitting that we didn’t end up going on a walk in Doone valley but resting sleepily at home instead, though we will be visiting Oare Church and Malmsmead tomorrow, both of which are locations in the novel.

Instead of walking, we napped. And chatted. And ate. For lunch we ate things we had on hand, including a fresh loaf of bread.

At 2:00 we listened on the radio to one of our favourite shows that we listen to in Canada online, Gardener’s Question Time. The panel was at the Chelsea Flower Show, which is currently going on right now. It was fun to be listening to our show while actually being in England!

In the afternoon it did pour rain, so that the flag at the campground across the street was wet and sad, but the wind later dried things and restored the flag to life. 

The wet flag at the campground

 

The flag flies again

At 3:00 on the radio there was an adaptation of William Makepeace Thackeray’s Vanity Fair (1847?) which was quite funny and very effective, taking a long novel (which Sara had a difficult time getting through) and capturing the humour and tone while greatly shortening the action.

Our view all day was through the half door of the hut, watching the rain come down in varying amounts. 

Our day's view outside the half-door of the shepherd's hut

After more reading, chatting, and dozing, we were ready for Nigel to drive us to the Rockford Inn, where we had a 6:00 dinner reservation. We would then walk home (about 45 min.). We got to the Rockford and read a notice in the window that said there was no food that night because of an electrical problem. We managed to flag Nigel down before he left, and we decided to go to the Staghunter’s Inn again, if they had space. We got the last table. Food was served starting at 6:30, so we ordered a Sunday roast each (Sara got the half-size), with beef, gravy, potato, sweet potato, cabbage, turnips, parsnip, carrots, Yorkshire pudding, and cauliflower cheese. It was good and satisfying, and the people who serve there were again friendly and kind.

We had a shorter walk home than anticipated—about ten minutes, and enjoyed hot chocolate and digestive biscuits while Sara typed up two days’ blogs (since there is no Internet here, or at least, we didn’t ask if there were any), and Ken is reading a book entitled The Worst Journey in the Midlands, which must be humorous given the occasional bursts of laughter Sara is hearing.