South West Coast Path Day 1.
Distance today: 25.6 miles.
Total distance: 1088.2 miles.
Accommodation: campsite.
There was a possible shortcut to get to the South West Coast Path without going all the way back into town but ever the completist, I chose to ignore it. I suspect I will only be doing this once so I may as well do it properly. I stopped off at Wetherspoons for tea and porridge and thought I was going to have a repeat performance from yesterday’s whinging couple but thankfully after initially sitting nearby, they moved to a table further away.
And so to the SWCP. Section 26, my final section. This was a genuine milestone. All the planning, all the dodgy linking routes I’d used to get from one established trail to the next, and it had finally come down to this one last path. Keep the sea on the right and follow the waymarkers. How hard could it be?
As is traditional, I started the trail with a 5 mile ascent. For the first part, I was walking through what seemed like a sub-tropical forest where the ground was covered in ferns. Further on, the landscape became a more open moorland with a mixture of grass, bracken, heather, and the occasional wild pony. Around this time I bumped into a veritable onslaught of multi-day hikers. 4 to be precise. The young European couple were planning to wild camp the whole trail, a young woman on her own who was seeing how far she could get in a couple of weeks, and the older British guy who was concentrating on giving off a nerdy weirdo vibe. And no, that wasn’t me. I left them to it but we passed each other at various points down the track.
At the top of the hill before the descent to Porlock, the skies suddenly darkened and within seconds, it was hammering down with rain. That was scarily quick and a reminder of just how easily you could get caught out in bad conditions.
Heading down to Porlock Marsh there were already indicators that however iconic the SWCP may be, the waymarkers were not always going to be clear when there was a choice of multiple paths. The marsh itself was a strange graveyard for an army of blackened tree stumps, poisoned by the salt water apparently. It was certainly an eerie sight. If only had my proper camera, etc. etc.
Once I’d stopped for a coffee and a pasty at Porlock Weir (the gallery having a nice side-line as a café), I had a decision to make. I’d completed the first stage in the guide book so did I stay or carry on? As it was still early enough in the day, I decided to push on. Lynmouth marked the end of the next stage and that was ‘only’ 11 miles away.
I think there was a bit more hill work in the second leg. Maybe it just felt more because I’d already done the morning shift. The scenery was a similar mix of woodland and moorland with the addition of some paths skirting the cliff tops. Forgive me if I end up saying this many, many times but I do love being by the sea. There is something about the movement of the waves, the ever-changing coastline, and the sheer vastness of it that sooths my soul. I don’t need to be on it or in it, just next to it.
I arrived in Lynmouth around 7pm and treated myself to a large portion of fish and chips. I was going to need the fuel because, guess what, I had booked another campsite a mile up a steep hill. I hate to be pedantic but if you cant guarantee that it is going to be sunny, you shouldn’t be calling yourself Sunny Lyn Holiday Park. Suffice to say, when I reached the site, it was raining heavily and I pitched my tent in record time. Knowing I was going to arrive late, the management had kindly marked my spot with a road cone complete with welcome pack attached. I got chatting with a couple who were also walking part of the trail. I think their names were Catherine and Nigel, cant be sure, but they deserve an honorary mention for the fastest online donation. I’d barely finished speaking to them and I’d got a ping on my phone to confirm they had given £10 which, as I reminded myself, is actually worth £20 due to the fund-match. Thank you both. Eagle-eyed, I’d spotted the Cottage Inn just down the road and it seemed like a good place to shelter from the rain, enjoy a pint, and cheekily – with permission – charge my phone.
