Leaving the car at the Beach Hotel we set off for the short walk to Bude across the top of the cliffs. It is a beautiful morning, the bright sunshine lighting up the yellow sandstone cliffs.
Continue readingGone are the days when I could just set off for a quick walk in Kent or Sussex – North Cornwall, with its dearth of public transport is a long long way from London. Anyway, we arrive in Crackington Haven in the middle of the day, leave the car in the car park and after a cream tea top up, set off up the cliff path.
Continue readingFrom the infamous Severn Bridge we follow a cycle route heading south and we have PLENTY of water. Coming down a hill onto a long straight stretch of coast road we walk past some wonderful metal garden ornaments.
Continue readingOur lovely Airbnb host gives us a lift from Magor back to the sea wall where we finished yesterday. Turning left we set off eastwards on the grassy raised bank. It’s going to be another hot day.
Continue readingNewport must be one of the few cities that has not updated its docklands and as the bus trundles through Pillgwenlly (Pill for short) to the hotel where Damian and I are planning to spend the night, my heart sinks.
Continue readingI don’t really know where I got the idea from that Weston-Super-Mare was a tacky, run down seaside resort full of amusement arcades, dodgy theme pubs and screaming children. Yes there is a little bit of that but actually it is quite harmless, especially early in the morning.
Continue readingIt’s been a long absence but here I am again, joining a few dots from last year.
Continue readingA patch of blue sky and an optimistic forecast. We leave Bideford and carry on northwards up the west bank of the River Torridge. The shore is littered with derelict vessels of all shapes and sizes but at one point we climb up into a lovely stretch of woodland with a photo opportunity.
Continue readingSo back to Fremington Quay, this time with Damian and this time we cross the bridge and carry straight on along the Tarka Trail.
Continue readingOnce upon a time, a long long time ago, I set out for Barnstaple in North Devon to go walking – since then I have not had my boots on – work is a curse.
Continue reading
