Day 52. Stawell to West Bagborough

Samaritans Way Day 3.
Distance today: 18.5 miles.
Total distance: 1039.1 miles.
Accommodation: campsite.

Sometime during the day, I got a text from Jackie, thanking me for my money and suggesting I could pick up my £2 change anytime I was passing. Somewhat cheekily (not to mention, still slightly annoyed), I replied saying that if she liked, she could go to my JustGiving page and make a donation. No reply and no donation.

It took me about 3 hours to walk to Bridgwater along yet more country lanes, passing through the villages of Stawell and Chedzoy along the way. I got caught in a burst of heavy rain on the outskirts of the town but thankfully it didn’t last too long. As I walked over the bridge with the M5 below, it felt strange to cross another motorway. When was the last time? I think it might have been crossing the M6 near Carnforth. Way, way up north.

And so to Bridgwater. Another town another Wetherspoons. There was a lovely moment as I searched for a table that had a nearby power socket. An old guy, I’m guessing in his 80s, asked me what I was looking for. I explained I was on a long walk and I needed somewhere to charge my phone. He asked me where I was going and when I told him John o’ Groats to Lands End he replied: “oh, how far have you got?”. After a moment’s hesitation, trying to process the question and how best to diplomatically respond, I replied “Well, erm, I have got to here.”

After a wander around town, I managed to find a Millets to stock up with a couple of dehydrated meals. With little other reason to hang around, it was time to leave the metropolis and head for the (Quantock) hills. I was still sticking to the roads because, quite frankly, I couldn’t be bothered with the frustration of trying to follow the minor trails. I’m sure I was missing out on some beautiful landscape but at least I was holding onto my sanity.

For the next 9 miles, the road steadily climbed until it reached the top of Lydeard Hill. The surrounding scenery had a gentle pastoral feel to it – there was even a bucolic hold-up as sheep were led down from a field, along the road to a farm (sadly, it was too far away for me to capture on my phone).

From Lydeard Hill, the road descended steeply for a couple of miles on its way to West Bagborough. Ever a man whose glass is half empty, I did a couple of geographical calculations and determined that tomorrow morning I would have the pleasure of climbing back up the hill. My campsite for the night was Quantock Camping and it was a mile or so beyond West Bagborough, before the road joined the A358. First impressions, it looked like a lovely set-up. It was a family-run business and they had a variety of glamping pods, shepherds huts, and even the option of ‘outdoor’ rustic tin shack showers. The dad, who must have been in his 70s, was the only one around at the time I arrived and we had a good chat as he showed me an area where I could pitch. I’d asked him if there was anywhere close where I could buy essentials like milk and beer, and he said he would sort me out. Half an hour later, he returned with a bottle of beer and a 2 litre milk bottle for me to pour enough for a couple of cups of tea. And even though I tried, he wouldn’t take any money for it. Very kind.

A bit later, Karen, the daughter, came to take my money for the pitch. According to her Dad she was an ex-corporate lawyer who’d returned to the business after working out in New York where she’d made a lot of money after renovating a brownstone. I could see that. Anyway, she took my £20 but returned 5 minutes later and handed it back to me, supposedly having deduced – possibly with some help from her Dad – that I was doing my trip for charity. Doubly kind. According to my complicated rules, that meant I would donate the £20 to the cause. Had they not charged me in the first place, that money would have been all mine. Damn my honesty.

One of the outdoor showers I was allowed to use was out of commission but I was told if I wanted the outdoor experience I could use the tin shack attached to one of the currently unoccupied shepherd huts. It definitely had that Australian outback vibe about it.