the injury – 18 Aug, 2018
Day 14 Land’s End to John O’Groats – Minehead to Holcombe
Distance: 20km
Cumulative distance: 347km
I had a cracking couple of nights in Minehead. Met a couple of Sheffield Wednesday lads on the Thursday and played a bit of pool which was great. They were sound, despite being Owls, but it was good craic and we ended up teaming up to play (beat) a few others that were keen. I had a productive day on Friday getting through the usual chores, then found a magnificent pub that night called the Old Ship Aground, which I’d discovered had live music every Friday night. The staff were super friendly and only too happy to have me along, and the band was superb, playing for more than two hours and just ripping out a heap of classics. I chatted to a local fella for a while and he bought me a pint – he and his wife were lovely. Once it was all over, another local managed to rope me into going up to the Wetherspoons at the top of town, which had some kind of late night club on its second floor. I quickly discovered the place was an absolute dive. Like it made that old place on top of the Royal in Queanbeyan look classy. The chap I was with bought me a drink of some sort which I didn’t even finish, and after about 10 minutes I told him I was done and took off for my bed.
The day off was great for the blisters on my left foot, I treated the worst of them and they started feeling a bit better. If only I could say the same about the pain in my lower right leg…I’m not sure what I’ve done to the bloody thing but I knew all about it on Saturday morning when I packed up, strapped the pack back on and headed back for the seafront.
Today’s plan was to follow the water for a while, and then head inland and stroll over the Quantock Hills which sounded absolutely stunning. I walked past a few arcades and a seaside resort called Butlins which seems to be pretty well known in these parts. One of the bar girls I was chatting to at the pub last night used to work here. It looked rather garish anyway, and I was happy to be past it soon enough. I passed a golf course, stopping each time one of the fellas lined up their tee shot, then passed through Blue Anchor where a stack of folk were fishing off the edge of the bridge.
Unfortunately I had a stretch of rock walking on the beach again which really tested the blisters and my leg, and then I pushed onto Watchet where I realised the fast-approaching Quantock Hills were well out of the question. I had a cream tea and walked over to Doniford to come up with a new plan, given by this stage I could barely walk. It looked like if I stayed close to the water that I could skirt around the base of the Quantocks and hook back around to where I needed to be going, and I spotted a campsite just past a town called Kilve which looked to be fairly ideally placed. Kilve was apparently only five miles away, so I fired myself up again and set out on my new path.
It took me back down to the shoreline, and it was absolutely incredible with small, layered cliffs overlooking these low-cut rocks that ran down to the water – much different to what I’d experienced so far. I took myself as close to the water as I could and walked along the muddy sand for a while trying to make good time while preserving my feet and my leg. That seemed to be the least painful of the available surfaces. Eventually the path took me back up to the top of the smallish cliffs and I followed it all the way to a Kilve Cricket Club home game that was in full swing. I watched a few balls then pushed past down to the farm where I was camping tonight. The farmer pointed me to a site where I pitched up, then told me there was a pub about a kilometre down the road where I’d be able to watch the football. I mustered all of my mental strength to ignore the temptation – I need to rest this leg.
