So back to Fremington Quay, this time with Damian and this time we cross the bridge and carry straight on along the Tarka Trail.

It’s a dull day but at least it’s not raining and we make good progress. On the outskirts of Instow we pass another overgrown railway track and a very well preserved signal box – now a listed building.

Instow is a pretty little village with a wide sandy beach, independent shops and a well stocked delicatessen. We decide to stop for a cream tea from a van parked overlooking the beach. As luck would have it, a few minutes after sitting down the heavens open and there is very little shelter around – stuffing down scones in a rainstorm is not really what I had in mind.

Anyway, the rain is short-lived and we are soon on our way. A while later (it’s so long ago my memory fails me) the path takes us though a patch of woodland and rounding a bend we are treated to the sight of a large boat which has been hauled up onto the mudflats and showing clear signs of human habitation. An extraordinary sight – very Dickensian.

We tiptoe past, feeling like intruders.

From here on we share the path with joggers and cyclists – it is long and straight with no surprises. There is a sculpture.

And soon we are crossing the bridge into Bideford and straight into the tumult of a motorcycle rally.

On our way to our BnB we walk past at least half a mile of motorbikes and their owners – of all shapes and sizes. A constant worry for me is that my daughter is a motorcyclist – she would have loved it.

Distance: 8 miles