Barnstaple to Westward Ho!
How often can you start the day with a bubble bath?
It screams DAY OFF! Don’t you think?
Having fallen into a double-decker sleep, I woke with stiff limbs and the kind of lassitude that deserves a good wallow in bed, or a deep, bubbly bath. Guess which one I chose?
One steamy prune-soaking later, I meandered down to breakfast at the wonderful No. 2 Broadgate B&B with enough time to debate the relative merits of earl grey tea over coffee, and to charm my host to wilt some baby spinach to go with my scrambled eggs (the perfect combo that really needs to be encouraged in this fair, sausage-and-bacon-loving land).
One gastronomic delight later, I hobbled back up to my attic studio where I had not-enough minutes to restrain a now-dry tent back into its bag and squeeze everything but my allergy-inducing sleeping bag into the beast.
The fate of the evil sleeping bag is an unknown. I descended from Pilton to Barnstaple with a promise from my host to donate it to charity, but there’s a good chance it went to the tip. Easter Sunday in central Barnstaple turned out to be a bit of a ghost-town, except for a smattering of homeless people. I left wishing I’d brought it with me to give directly to one cold soul on the streets. Oh, well.
You’ll notice from my surge stats that the day wasn’t step-less, but I certainly didn’t walk all the way to my next destination, Westward Ho! (For those of you not in the know, the exclamation is officially in the town’s name.)
After wandering through Barnstaple’s old market, I caught a bus to Instow – a cute little town east of the River Torridge which must be crossed either by ferry at high tide, or by the enormously high bridge a good 5 km upstream that turns the 20 km day into a 30 km hike.
Now, I know what you’re all thinking – but what about my plan to walk every step of the swcp? This is where I need to send out a special request to gorgeous Gretchen G to corroborate the fact that I have traversed the south bank of the River Taw. We rode bicycles, I must admit, but it was my feet/legs/body that put in the effort. So, you’re all going to have to get over it.
‘Nuff said.
Everyone I met said I should go to Appledore (cobbled streets, etc.), but you can’t go everywhere and Instow had a relaxed vibe that I liked. I walked the length of the foreshore before finding the Boathouse – a fab place to have a seafood lunch and a pint – and settled in to chatting with the people around me who all wanted to know where I was going with the beast. One little girl was fascinated with the idea of camping. I assured her that she could camp in her backyard, or her lounge room…or pretty much where ever she liked…so long as she had marshmallows (apologies to her mum for the sugar-fest to come).
Meandering on, I have memories of being pretty snap-happy in Instow, but this one, showing how low the tidal river drops seems to be the only one that survived my hyper-editing fingers…
This boat was sitting where the Instow-Appledore ferry picks up customers. As you can see, I got there well after high-tide. Did I care? No. Day off, remember?
The return route to the bus stop crosses an old train line and I lucked into a day when the local train enthusiasts (apologies, I didn’t note their official name) open the signal station for sticky-beakers. I took advantage and discovered all sorts of things that I never knew, and a great many things I don’t remember, about train signalling. My impression was a cute little tower box with a plethora of levers – all with specific colours/signs – and massive ‘keys’ that are handed to train drivers like a sort of relay baton to allow access further down the line. Me and the beast took up quite a bit of space, so I moved on before too long.
The bus took me to Westward Ho!, where I settled into my less-than-fabulous B&B room (view of concrete, anyone?), and took myself out for a hilarious dinner at the Hong Kong Dinner that seemed determined to fuse everything they possible could. Stir fry veg with slices of roast? Irish ballads played with traditional Asian instruments? Weird.
[Surge stats: 9.99 km, 29 floors, 14398 steps]
PenLoper 