LEJOG
Distance walked – 25.5km (15.9miles)
Total Distance – 230.8km (144.2miles)
I am the eye in the sky, looking at you
I can read your mind
The Nigel Parsons Project – Eye in the Sky
Cornish pasty anyone?
We left a deserted Bude early, passing the bakery that our guidebook said was the last chance to get a Cornish pasty before we entered Devon later today. The frankly scary Cornish pasty mannequin in the window put us off (it was closed anyway), so we continued on the now gentle coastal path out of Bude.
The first few kilometres took us along gentle rolling green hillsides through National trust land at Maer Cliff and Sandymouth. The coastline behind us stretched for miles and showed us where we had come from over the past two days. Ahead of us on a headland loomed the giant GCHQ Bude eavesdropping centre, its multiple satellite dishes and radar domes hinting darkly at Cold War espionage and nuclear threats.
GCHQ base on horizon
The serious climbing started again (the coastal path doesn’t stay gentle for long), and after the requisite ups and downs we found ourselves at the beach at Duckpool. Here we noticed some striking geological oddities which Louisa thought looked like giant sea creatures breaking through the waves.
More geological fun
We spied an inland route from here that would cut off some of the more difficult cliff walking, so set off up an infrequently used footpath that headed towards the GCHQ base. It was a delightful path through a woodland beside a stream. It twisted and turned as it wound up the hill taking us past thickets of Hawthorn covered in masses of white flowers. The path seemed to end abruptly at the high double barbed wire fence of the base. We could see some army men working in the distance, so we quietly crept along the fence, James Bond style, and eventually found a locked field gate that we climbed over to exit to the road.
Spy photos
Louisa insisted on stopping to take some photos despite my protestations and the security cameras and signs stating `No Photography’ that also mentioned the official secrets act. I scarpered for the road, sure we were about to be picked up by an army jeep and taken in for questioning. I informed Louisa that I was unlikely to hold out for long and would probably crack under the slightest pressure and implicate her as the ringleader of the spy plot. She snapped away happily. . .
In retrospect it was strange that there is a footpath that leads to the perimeter of the base with no easy way to exit or get to the road.
Road walking
We made our way along the road (no army jeep appeared) and following a road walk of many kilometres exited through the wonderful nature reserve of Marsland Valley managed by the Devon wildlife trust. This valley walk took us down and back to the coastal path at Marsland Mouth.
We have calculated that we will cross 11 counties as we traverse England, and two briefly in Wales, before entering Scotland. Today we ticked off the first as we crossed the Cornwall border into Devon. We had a small celebration and then carried on.
We followed the coast path past Ronald Duncan’s writing hut. He apparently was a famous writer and poet who wrote in this hut on an isolated cliff top. Neither of us had heard of him. Louisa suggested he probably hid in the hut all day while his wife did all the housework.
A lovely level section of high cliff walking followed past the remnants of an iron age fort, the sides of the path clothed in the white blossom of the hawthorn hedges. We saw and heard several skylarks in the field beside the path, their beautiful song echoing out as they flew and hovered trying to distract us from their nests in the field grass. We also spied several buzzards wheeling and circling overhead.
Blooming hedges
After lunch on the cliff top, we left the coast path and headed inland again on some quiet country lanes. When studying the route last night, we found that we could cut a lot of kilometres off today and tomorrow by forgoing the coast path and striking across country, so we rearranged our accommodation for tonight. I also spied a potential tea-room stop on the way and as we wanted to get our first Devonshire cream tea on the board, we struck off that way.
We arrived soon after at what turned out to be the Fawlty Towers of tea-rooms. We walked through the most beautiful gardens, like hobbits arriving in Rivendell, to find the tearoom with tables scattered around a thatched cottage. The fairy tale setting, however, was presided over by a bumbling, slightly grumpy man who entertained us with his antics while we ate our scones. The quiet of the countryside setting would have been wonderful if it hadn’t been for his dog, which was in a kennel by the tables and let out an ear-piercing bark every two or three minutes. The owner constantly went over and yelled at it to shut up, and finally threw a glass of water over it at which stage it retreated into its kennel.
He appeared later with a used jam jar which he threw into a open recycling bin. It bounced out, the lid flying through the air, hitting an elderly lady who was sat behind us. By this stage we were chortling into our Earl Grey.
I then made the mistake of asking him about paying. He indicated in an exasperated fashion that I should obviously go into the kitchen. We paid up and escaped back to the road.
A few more kilometres past thatched houses and then through a beautiful bluebell wood brought us to the village of Hartland, our destination for today. Tomorrow will be a short day, so we are looking forward to a sleep in and the full English breakfast.
Today’s route
7 Responses
I’m surprised you weren’t taken into the base for questioning by the Brigadier. Or possibly Captain Yates…
I said it looked like UNIT!
That was a scary, rather dry looking Cornish Pastie 😱 no wonder you didn’t hang around
Sounds like a lot of fun. Keep warm and big hugs😻
Wish you were here! xxx
A interesting Devonshire tea!!!! I trust the scones, jam and cream were good. Poor dog😲
We love a cream tea! xxx