THE HARD EARNED REWARDs – 12 Aug, 2018
When the sun sets in Bude
Day 9 Land’s End to John O’Groats – Bude to Stoke
Distance: 18km
Cumulative distance: 224km
It rained all day on my day off so I timed it well as it turned out. I did my chores (laundry, shopping etc) and found a pub that was showing Leeds pummel Derby 4-1. Yewwwwww, we’ll probably just win the league. Last night was good too, I came back to my hostel and found a lady from Sheffield and a fella from Sussex in the lounge room watching a movie. We got chatting about life and had a cracking conversation about living outside of your comfort zone, and not conforming to typical societal expectations. The lady from Sheffield was traveling on her own which she’d been doing a bit since splitting from her husband, while the fella had spent the best part of the last seven years walking the different Camino routes in Spain, having sold up all his possessions to fund his expeditions. He’d landed in Bude where he was planning on settling for a little while and starting a business. Truly wonderful people, the real beauty of travel.
It was forecast to rain all day today as well, but I had virtually none until the end of the day as I started setting up my tent. The hostel I stayed in, Northshore, was really good by the way, and the owner had told me there were another 13 river crossings between me and Hartland Point where the coast veers sharply back to the east. 13!! Ahh well. Luckily, before I left, a Dutch lady I had met yesterday who was walking south gave me some deep heat for my left knee which had swelled up like a balloon due to the rigours of the coast path.
I started strongly coming out of Bude but the river crossings came thick and fast. It was very, very muddy and I hit the deck a few times which would’ve been comical to anyone else had they been on the trail. It was quite invigorating walking due north for the duration today, given that’s the direction of Scotland so I was lapping up the muddy miles, as slow as they were. The cliffs seem more eroded in these parts, and some of the geology of this section was like nothing I’d ever seen before, it was almost like the rock had been sliced evenly with a bread knife. I came to a blue rope at one stage blocking the path, but there didn’t seem to be anything wrong so I skipped around it and continued on. Eventually I came to the second blue rope and that was that. Later on at the campsite I was chatting to a few ladies who were heading south and due to do that section tomorrow. They told me there was a section on the path that had been roped off due to fears of a landslide – that explained it.
I came to Henna Cliff which I’d been dreading because I’d read it was the sharpest drop I would likely encounter on this Coast Path. I had visions of High Cliff again, but it wasn’t actually that big this particular cliff just ludicrously steep. I was no chance in the mud, and hit the deck several more times eventually opting to walk on the grassy sections adjacent to the path. The old knees were feeling it by this point I can assure you. Soon after I crossed into Devon which was exciting. Another county! I’d finally finished the walk across Cornwall, and was moving onto something new. And the landscape was starting to change, it seemed a bit greener inland, the cliffs weren’t quite so high and there were more valleys to my immediate right. After climbing up from my latest river crossing, I unexpectedly came to a hut, named for Ronald Duncan who had been an author, poet and playwright before his death. There were examples of his poetry on the wall, and the view was absolutely delightful.
After a few more river crossings, and sitting on a bench that was made from the wreckage of a ship that had met its end at the base of the cliff below, I came to a junction in the path which offered me the choice of taking another cliff or taking a valley, and I elected the latter for something different. It was stunningly beautiful, and I eventually came to a delightful 20m waterfall. Further on I walked through another field full of ewes and their (not so little) lambs and eventually made it to Hartland Quay.
I turned inland for a kilometre or so and found my campsite. Once I was set up I went into the little information room, and came across Martin – a retired teacher who was traveling the south west with his dog Archie. He immediately offered me a beer, then offered to cook me tea and then split with me a bottle of red wine. I provided dessert – tinned peaches and yoghurt. It was the best feed I’ve had all trip, and a fantastic evening. He had some cracking travel stories from all over Europe and parts of the Subcontinent. As I’ve said before, you can always depend on the kindness of strangers.
