SWCP Day 54 – 19 Oct 2018

Torcross – Dartmouth

My last day on the swcp this year was kind of bittersweet.

I don’t regret the decision to stop. Not at all. It just felt like I had to experience every step more thoroughly than I had thus far – to tide me over till I could return some time in the mysterious future. In my crazy imagination, I conceived these coast path efforts as meal courses: 2017 was the appetizer; 2018 has been the main course; and 20?? will be dessert. Let’s just hope it doesn’t turn into a degustation 😉 … though with some fine wine…hmm 🙂

In some respects I wished the path would never end, but nagging exhaustion really did put a drag in my step that even brilliant sunshine couldn’t combat – confirming if nothing else that I was overdue a multiday rest.

But first I have to tell you about breakfast.

Anyone who’s travelled an iota in Britain will be familiar with the full English breakfast: eggs, sausage, bacon, beans, tomato, mushrooms, hash brown, and maybe even black pudding, with toast, a selection of fruit, cereal, and yogurt. This is the breakfast of champions. Or so they say. Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoy feeling like a champion, but there’s only so much hangover food a loper can stomach before said feast brings a grimace.

This day – joy of joy – I was given options, and my breaky of choice was a curious open-grilled sandwich made on brioche with ham, cheese, spinach, and fried egg. The balance of slightly salty/salty sweet was totally yum. With a french presse of smooth but strong coffee, Penloper was in foodie heaven. Yummm. Wish I had a pic.

Anyhoo…on with the path.

A quick bus ride back to Torcross, and I was on my way.

This beach sweeps all the way to Strete, but the path actually follows the shore of Slapton Ley – a lagoon sitting just behind the beach.

It’s a curious geographical feature that would be prettier if the narrow strip wasn’t overridden by road works. You can’t see it in this photo, but I had to bounce back and forth between lagoon and beach in a very annoying fashion. Got sand in my shoes and everything! Huff.

I usually appreciate a flat walk to start out the day, but it can be perversely boring if it goes on too long. When I came to Strete Gate and the path lifted a little away from the beach, I was relieved. But then an unexpected thing happened – the path went off course!

I’ve met many a diversion in past weeks, but this was different. The path had always followed my A-Z South West Coast Path, Adventure edition map books. There are five in total, and I’d started on Book 4 at the western Devon border. Looking closer I’d noticed differences in this fourth book (such as no mile markers). Turns out, this was an older, 2014, edition, and the path had, quite literally, been moved in the intervening years.

Now, instead of a gentle rise up to Strete village, I was rudely faced with a steep drop foĺowed by a very tight zig-zag track up to the village. Totally unneccessary in my opinion.

Anyway, skidding down the new drop I was overtaken by a couple of guys. We got to chatting briefly – using the opportunity to rest momentarily – before they strode on ahead. Rubbery legs and rocks in your pack make steep climbs unsurprisingly difficult. This is a universal truth, just in case you weren’t aware.

Here’s the view from the top (proving I made it), looking back over Slapton Sands.

After Strete, the path is again a totally unneccessary rollercoaster ride through pastures. Beautiful though.

Opposite this sweet thatched cottage, I came across Blackpool Sands – a private beach with a well established cafe. Here the same guys I’d met on the unexpected zig-zag hailed me and invited me to join them for lunch. Perfect timing.

Bob and Ian had been school mates, reacquainted through totally random means decades after their graduation. Since becoming friends again, they’d been getting together off and on to walk the swcp.

We compared notes on the path and life in general over burgers and brownies (brownies are a totally reasonable lunch choice, right?), before I took advantage of the sugar rush to speed up the hill and through Stoke Flemming,…

…where the path passes the requisite church and pub, then does a funny little jig through someone’s lusciously green garden…

… and continues out the other side of the village on a typical, countryside, hedgerowed lane.

It turned out that Bob and Ian weren’t all that far behind me. When they caught up at the National Trust carpark near Little Dartmouth, we continued walking together…and just stayed that way for the rest of the day.

Here are Bob and Ian (sorry it’s taken me so long to get you two into Penloper)…

With only about 5 km to go, it wasn’t all that challenging to find topics of conversation to carry us through and I kind of forgot to take many pics. Sorry lopers.

I do like this one (that’s me getting artistic)…

…and this tantalizing swing that Bob was brave enough to try…

…and this fabulous boathouse in Warfleet…

…which actually came after we stopped for icecream (thanks Ian) and coffee at Dartmouth Castle (disappointingly over-touristy).

At this point, we turned away from the coast…

…and followed the River Dart up to Dartmouth Harbour where the town was in full swing for their annual food and drink festival.

I don’t think I verbally laboured over the fact that this was my last day on the path. But maybe, as a result, arriving at Dartmouth felt rather anticlimactic. Or maybe it was because I had company and was therefore pulled out of my own thoughts. Walking the swcp had largely been a solo effort, and, while I appreciated the guys’ fabulous company, it did feel weird to not reach this end-for-now point on my own. I was keen to put my feet up somewhere and celebrate.

Unfortunately, while it might have been perfect timing to see Dartmouth at its best, it wasn’t the greatest timing to find a place to stay the night. The best I could arrange had been a B&B in Brixham – a day’s walk ahead on the swcp. This meant crossing the river to Kingswear and catching a bus on from there. So I said my farewells and hopped on the ferry.

This last pic is of the steam train that chugga-chuggs from Kingswear Harbourside. Like a lot of places in Devon, there’s a connection to Agatha Christie here, but I had no time to indulge my curiosity. The bus was departing and I was happy to be on my way to Brixham – my final destination and a town that, as it turned out, had delights of its own…

…but that’s another story 🙂

Farewell for now, fellow lopers, it’s been grand.

Stats: 27589 steps; 145 floors; 19.15 km

p.s. For those of you interested, I will tally up the stats some time in the near future. Unless a friendly loper wants to do it for me…

p.p.s. …meanwhile, The Beast and I are heading to Norway! Woohoo! Bet you didn’t see that coming. The big question is – will there be loping? ???