LEJOG
Distance walked – 8km (5miles)
Total Distance – 238.8km (149.2miles)
I’m a travelling man
Trying to make sense of the world and its many sights
Ishmael Ensemble – Polestar
Attention!
We had an easy day today. Our crafty shortcut yesterday had meant we only had a little under 8 kilometres to walk today, so we treated ourselves to a later start. I was able to catch up on the blog, we had breakfast at the pub, and we took our time packing up, before checking out and setting off at about 10:00am.
The first part of the walk was out of the village of Hartland, past the village school where Louisa spied some Royal Coronation propaganda, and onto a footpath beside a stream.
We then followed a public bridleway through a farm, where the farmer had kindly blocked the route with a locked gate and tractor necessitating an awkward climb, before we reached a beautiful but wet National Trust woodland. The rain had started just before we set off from the pub and continued for the entire morning, gentle but persistent.
We walked for several kilometres through the woodland which was carpeted in bluebells and other pretty spring flowers. Despite the rain it was an enjoyable walk, mainly on a graded track, saving our feet from getting too wet at this stage. Most of the trees are not fully in leaf yet but as we traversed the forest, we could almost feel the anticipation, knowing that any day now they will all spring back into life. We are looking forward to marking the slow change of the seasons as we spend the days outside in our journey across the country.
The woodland ended and we headed back into farmland, crossing two large grassed fields. We thought we could hear some cows but didn’t spy any as we made our way to a gate and farm lane on the far side. On closing the gate, we were surprised to see a bull warning sign facing the way we had come. Luckily it hadn’t been on the gate at the other side or we would have had a nervous few moments as we crossed the field. It reminded me of a more humorous sign on a farm gate I saw many years ago which said `Entry is free, bull will charge later’.
The lane brought us out into the grounds and then the long driveway of Clovelly Court, the main house of the enormous Clovelly Estate. We continued on to the village of Clovelly, a picturesque fishing village entirely owned and run by the Estate (which in turn is owned by one family). We passed the coast path junction, where we will head off tomorrow, before descending into the village via the visitor centre (where we avoided the rip off entry fee as we are staying overnight).
Arriving in Clovelly
We have been to Clovelly many years ago and know that it is usually thronging with tourists. We were surprised to find it almost deserted today; its picture-perfect cobbled street devoid of the usual crowds. Maybe a cold wet Thursday in April had kept everyone else away.
The mean streets of Clovelly
It is a car free village all set around a single narrow steep cobbled street that winds down to the harbour below. The houses perch above one another in a haphazard fashion, all with different shapes and colours. There are twisting side passages that lead off from the main street and reappear down lower. Many of the houses have small, perfectly kept, courtyard gardens. It is all impossibly beautiful and almost too much, like a movie set, or a disneyland interpretation of an English fishing village.
We had arrived too early to check into our B+B, so went spent the afternoon wandering around the village, down to the harbour, reading all the history displays, and talking to several locals. It would seem that our initial impression that it is a very weird artificial place was wrong and that it does actually consists of a living thriving community. It has a rich history as a centre for herring fishing for hundreds of years into the early part of the 20th century before turning to tourism from the 1920s onwards.
It certainly wouldn’t be the kind of place I would want to live. I think it has an air of over-imposed order that makes you want to do something subversive like leaving your gate open, or hanging a picture crooked but I’m sure others would disagree and obviously do as the village seems to be fully occupied.
Harbourside
We checked into our accommodation and after a pub meal, decided on an early night. We finished the day, sat by the window of our bedroom, looking down on the harbour and out to sea, mentally preparing ourselves for tomorrow – our final on the coastal path and our last before a rest day.
3 Responses
Small villages like Clovelly make me think of ‘The Wickerman’ style cults. Good luck 😆
Clovelly sounds a beautiful little place. Sorry I never got to vist it when I was in Devon many years ago. Love the photos
You would love it Jean, it’s a magical place.