Tuesday 03rd June 1997 - Day four, Leddon Farm, Devon/Cornwall border, Bude Prev Next

I woke up to a light spray on my face. The inside of the tent was soaked in condensation and each time the tent flapped in the wind a gentle spray was shaken off over me. I cooked breakfast of pasta with chicken and mushroom sauce with the sleeping bag over my knees to keep warm. I then packed as much of the rucksack as possible before doing the bit I was not looking forward to, taking off the nice warm dry clothing and putting the cold damp stuff back on again. It was disgusting but it had to be done.

As quickly as I could I finished the packing and washed up. I know it was going to look silly but I put the gaiters on as well after the previous day. The weather forecast had been for more of the same. At least it was dry at this point. I felled the tent, rolled it into a soggy lump and was ready to go. At one point it started looking brighter. I went and saw the farmers wife again. She didn't want paying and it turned out she had done a lot of walking in her youth around the local area. She wished me well. I went to the shop next door and stocked up - this stage was going to be a tough one. My first steps on this morning had been agony and I nearly fell over when my legs hadn't done as I had asked with a searing pain in my calf muscles. Back down the road and the hill I arrived at the Devon and Cornwall border again and stepped permanently into Cornwall. One descent and my legs didn't feel very strong at all, and there in front of me was this big hill to climb. I got into a rhythm which was to last the rest of this day of climbing 50 steps - lean forward and rest - 50 steps, lean and rest, and so on.

The land at the top had fields and only the steep sides were left uncultivated. I turned and said goodbye to Devon and continued. The weather was still very grey. Even the relatively flat tops still consisted of small up and downs. A little further on one climb in particular became a little scary. The path climbed a ridge with steps. On one side a steep heather covered slope which would be quite easy to roll from top to bottom into the valley I was climbing out of, on the right an equally steep slope perhaps 10 feet wide then nothing except a big drop. I focused on the steps in front carefully trying to disregard the emptyness each side whilst feeling twinges of vertigo until the path changed direction in and became a proper path on the edge of the field. At the top were a couple with binoculars looking out to sea. I wouldn't have sat so close to the edge as they were. A little further on I chanced to come upon Hawkers Hut. Down a few steps, built into the hillside was the hut made out of driftwood by the Rev. Hawker where he would often come and write poetry and the like.

A little bit further on was the Tidna river or stream as it appeared to me, and beyond that was Higher Sharpnose Point which had, as described in the route book I had read, 'giddy heights'. These heights were nowhere as giddy as the last one but did have notices saying Danger - cliffs liable to subsidence. I always wondered whether the bloke banging in the danger sign might cause the cliffs to shear off at that point, it would be a bit unlucky if he did.

At the corner of a field on the climb out of Higher Sharpnose Point I stopped for a rest. The sun had been out but it was now a bit cloudy with a light wind, ideal walking conditions and to complete it I had dried out. I had a drink and a snickers, got out the GPS and was disappointed to find I was only a third of the way to Bude. Never mind, I took my boots and socks off and used the opportunity to powder my feet now they had dried and I still had plenty of time, things weren't so bad. Suddenly from my left hand side came a crack, banging, whooshing and tinkling of rock. I didn't see which part of the cliff fell away but suddenly I didn't feel so safe, boots back on double speed and march on quick although I suspect the bit I had been sitting on will be there for a few decades yet.

Down and up and I was alongside a place with lots of huge dishes. The path then turned outwards and downwards to the cliffs again. As it wound down it went through gorse bushes and beside it here and there were deep holes, foxes or badgers I thought. Around the corner and going up slightly I saw a badger. He was nose down digging hard at the ground for something and he hadn't seen me. I think it is the first badger I have ever seen in the wild which isn't that surprising I suppose as they are nocturnal and I'm not. I slipped off the rucksack and got out the camera then stalked him. He was so intent on digging and presumably not used to having people about that I got very close to take a picture. Click! he looked up and saw me, would he charge? would he run off? I don't know what badgers do when they are taken by surprise. I ran off in one direction, he ran off in another. It was amazing, without the backpack on it was like walking on the moon as I leapt in huge bounds from grassy hillock to grassy hillock until I arrived back at the pack.

A little further on I passed an old couple out for a stroll and then began the steep descent to Coombe. People, there were people everywhere, more than I had seen all day. There must have been a dozen of them. Down one side and up the other, 50 steps, pause, 50 steps, pause. From the top I could see the path still undulated but was going to be easier. Further on I stopped for another rest, drink and snickers. A really fit chap came running by going away from Bude. Watching him run up and down the hills made me feel inadequate. I could see Bude now so it wasn't too far although my legs were seriously complaining when I stood up. I met another chap with a rucksack going the other way. 'Come far' I said by way of conversation. 'Bude to the border...twice, although that's enough for one day' he said. 'Ah yes, bit hilly isn't it' I said, suddenly feeling even more inadequate than ever.

The path continued through some more National Trust gorse land and down the final set of steps of the day to a pebble beach. Some of these steps must have been 18" high and with tired legs and a thirty five or more pound rucksack it was no joke. It was just a gentle rise and fall then into Bude. At the first corner were some hotels, inns, guest houses, all of which looked promising but I wanted to explore a bit more first, after I had an ice cream. Further on I saw the sea swimming pool then turned into the town centre. The road was lined with bed and breakfasts, but in the town I couldn't find anywhere to eat, not a fish & chip shop or a pizza place open. At the top of the hill were some phones and a bench. I sat down.

It was then that I spotted a sign saying 'Food - The inn on the green'. I rounded the corner where the sign was to see two things. A supermarket or civilisation as I know it and the same inn that I had seen originally. I was going full circle. As I walked down to the green I saw another establishment called 'Buffalo Bills', open I noticed from 'High noon 'til 10pm'. I could have just moseyed in through the bat doors and had a drink in the saloon, yee-harr.

I decided on the Crooklets Inn as it was close to the sea and ordered a pint of orange juice and lemonade, a room with en-suite and a gammon steak at the same time, yummy. The room was at the top of the building which was good except that climbing the stairs was painful, but the view was good and more than made up for it. After the meal I showered and caught the weather forecast. Serious rain was on the way for the day after tomorrow which meant no more walking - I needed to give my legs a day anyhow. What that really meant was an end to my holiday. I wasn't going to walk over high headlands with a metal framed pack & tent poles with lightning forecast, or sleep in a wet tent, or take off and put on wet clothing again. Bude was going to be the only place for a long time where I could catch an Exeter bus and I would prefer to travel in good weather and wish for more holiday than go home fed up.

I lay down on my bed which had the sleeping bag airing on it and closed my eyes for 5 minutes. The next thing I knew it was 2am and it was dark outside. This 'five minute' rest thing was becoming a bit of a habit. I changed, drew the curtains and got into bed, then next woke at 7am, a very respectable hour for me.

Next page, Day five, 04th June 97, Bude, Exeter, (Home).

Previous page, Day three, 02nd June 97, Clovelly, Hartland Point, Devon/Cornwall border, Leddon Farm.

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