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| Crossing the Bideford Long Bridge |
This morning was another case of grab all belongings and get indoors. No rain but I wasn't taking the chance. Probably because of this caution I managed to jinx matters and it was one of the sunniest so far. Not hard walking today, mainly flat and mostly on a bike lain stretching between Bideford and Barnstable. I hoped I'd be able to reach camp early and relax a little.
I woke at 6:30 and was out of camp by 7:30 the sun bright and dazzling over the campsite. Following small lanes I made my way towards Bideford, meeting few cars and I enjoyed a mixture of Beethovens Piano Sonatas and Concertos while maintaining an easy trot. I had plans for a big breakfast once I reached the town center. I found myself entering the town on a school street and it felt strange marching past all the school kids walking into school. Not been much of a morning person this was a reminder of just how much my sleeping habits had changed since beginning this hike.
Greasy spoons cafe found I ordered myself an English breakfast and finally found signal! I was so sick of my phone been disconnected from the world. It was one thing to wonder through a jungle and face nature's wildest places with no signal and quite another meandering along between towns and be cut off. I checked my messages, most from mother trying to ascertain whether I was still alive. She'd already phoned campsites and confirmed I'd left when I should, and I made a point of ringing to reassure her in person. There were also a few from a lady called Joanna who used to run Wilmslow Wells for Africa (the charity I am walking for). She and her husband Roger were in Devon for a few days and wished to take me out for dinner. She'd been attempting to contact me for a while but I'd gotten none of the messages. Quickly ringing back arrangements were made and I had the promise of lovely company ahead of me for dinner to spur me on.
Once across the river your on the bike lane and any navigation, if I'd not been using my app the entire time, is finished with. You follow the path for the next 7 or 8 miles until you reach the town and then climb up into the hills for the campsite. While dull walking, after the excitements of the coastal path, my legs welcomed the relief. My feet however soon took over the complaining. I was wearing my sandals again, as the boots were still wet and on my backpack, and with nothing but flat concrete underfoot my soles were getting a pounding. At one point I tried putting the insoles of my shoes in the sandals but they slid about and were no good. The only thing which helped was to start a new audio book, another Lee Child novel, and allow myself to be swept up in the narrative. Lee Child books are a very slightly more gritty American James Bond style novels, a lot more violent but equally unrealistic. The books were well read but nothing to write home, just good empty entertainment.
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| Slow Worm Sunbathing on the path |
At Barnstable I found a post office, posted home my guide book for the coastal path and made my way up to the campsite. It was the only climb I was required to do all day and while steep the campsite was a nice reward and I had plenty of time to settle in and wash before Joanna and Roger arrived.
They drove in at 630 and whisked me away to a local pub a few miles down the road. Barnstable is not a wealthy town and it was reflected in the pub but the service was pleasant and the food was good. Plus I got to know two lovely people, and talk all night which is something there's been very little of the last week. Roger probably had more tales of hiking than I did, his old job seeming to have thought up wonderful challenges for them to overcome. From what Roger said Joanna was a key part in running Wilmslow Wells for Africa for 13 years, which is no mean feat, and although she modestly refuted how big a part she played the success of the charity must owe a lot to her hard work. Wilmslow Wells for Africa seems to have a lovely family of people who give so much to it, its the first time I've played an active role in a charity and I feel very fortunate to have picked this one.
I was dropped off at 9, full to bursting and sleepy. Wishing them farewell and crawling back in my tent to sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a tough one and I was eager to, now that I'd been well fed, to be well rested as well.
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| Joanna and Me at Brightly Campsite after the meal |
I woke at 6:30 and was out of camp by 7:30 the sun bright and dazzling over the campsite. Following small lanes I made my way towards Bideford, meeting few cars and I enjoyed a mixture of Beethovens Piano Sonatas and Concertos while maintaining an easy trot. I had plans for a big breakfast once I reached the town center. I found myself entering the town on a school street and it felt strange marching past all the school kids walking into school. Not been much of a morning person this was a reminder of just how much my sleeping habits had changed since beginning this hike.
Greasy spoons cafe found I ordered myself an English breakfast and finally found signal! I was so sick of my phone been disconnected from the world. It was one thing to wonder through a jungle and face nature's wildest places with no signal and quite another meandering along between towns and be cut off. I checked my messages, most from mother trying to ascertain whether I was still alive. She'd already phoned campsites and confirmed I'd left when I should, and I made a point of ringing to reassure her in person. There were also a few from a lady called Joanna who used to run Wilmslow Wells for Africa (the charity I am walking for). She and her husband Roger were in Devon for a few days and wished to take me out for dinner. She'd been attempting to contact me for a while but I'd gotten none of the messages. Quickly ringing back arrangements were made and I had the promise of lovely company ahead of me for dinner to spur me on. 
Once across the river your on the bike lane and any navigation, if I'd not been using my app the entire time, is finished with. You follow the path for the next 7 or 8 miles until you reach the town and then climb up into the hills for the campsite. While dull walking, after the excitements of the coastal path, my legs welcomed the relief. My feet however soon took over the complaining. I was wearing my sandals again, as the boots were still wet and on my backpack, and with nothing but flat concrete underfoot my soles were getting a pounding. At one point I tried putting the insoles of my shoes in the sandals but they slid about and were no good. The only thing which helped was to start a new audio book, another Lee Child novel, and allow myself to be swept up in the narrative. Lee Child books are a very slightly more gritty American James Bond style novels, a lot more violent but equally unrealistic. The books were well read but nothing to write home, just good empty entertainment. 
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