Last night I went along to Lerwick library to listen to Gavin Francis talk about his two books. I can't believe I'd not heard of him before as I consider myself to be quite aware of all the travel writing books on the Arctic and Antarctica. I only knew about last night's talk because of an article in the Shetland Times promoting the event. The article mentioned he'd started his Arctic journey in Unst which is another reason I'm surprised not to have come across him before as I'd thought I'd read all the travel writing books which mention my favourite island in my favourite archipelago.
Gavin Francis is a medical doctor who had spent some time working in East Africa and at the end of his stint he felt the need to go somewhere completely different to the heat and crowds of Africa. The Arctic is a bit different to Africa so this was where he headed using the Great Bear as a defining boundary (he visited places the constellation can be seen from) and concentrating on the European Arctic rather than the American.
He followed a route that led him from Shetland to the Faroes and into Iceland and Greenland, before exploring Spitzbergen and Scandinavian Lapland. To add extra interest to his journey (as though these places aren't already interesting enough!) he followed routes documented by early writers. Shetland, for example, was written about over 2000 years ago by an early Greek traveller, Pytheas, who visited around the time the brochs were being built. As his journey went on he followed the writings of far more up-to-date and modern explorers e.g. the Vikings.
Obviously he didn't get cold enough in the Arctic because not long after he headed off to Antarctica to spend a year working as the resident doctor on British Antarctic Survey's Halley Base. It took a while to get there on a boat that went via the Falklands, South Georgia and Bird Island. Once there it was all hands to the deck unloading two thousand drums of kerosene. A couple of weeks later, when the unloading was done, the ship left and it was time to settle in to life with just 13 other people.
About half the people on the base are scientists of various disciplines and the rest are support staff, such as the doctor, a chef, mechanics and engineers. He says he hasn't gone into much detail about his role as doctor due to there being so few people it would be too easy for people to know who he was talking about and this would of course break medical confidentiality issues. Instead he talks about his time spent partaking in non-medical activities, such as trips out to visit the neighbours; a colony of Emporer penguins. With the onset of 24 hour darkness there was plenty of time to observe the night skies and become familiar with constellations and blase with auroras. He also found time to write 'True North', his book based on his Arctic travels. Since returning home to Scotland he has written his second book; 'Empire Antarctica'.
His talk last night, was divided into two half hour sessions, one for each book, with a 15 minute break between and a Q&A session at the end. The talk was engaging and interspersed with a few short readings from his own books and those of relevant others. He also passed around a few artefacts, such as his boots and gloves (big, bulky, heavy) and an Emperor penguin egg (pointy, bumpy, slightly larger than a duck egg). The library was full, with people even sitting upstairs in what would have originally been the choir (it's in an old church). Many of them were older and although there were a lot of locals present, there were tourists other than myself. I sat next to a Dutch lady who was in Lerwick with her husband on their yacht. They have sailed all over the world, including all the places Gavin spoke about. They funded their nomadic, floatational lifestyle by running a yacht business and the lady also wrote books and magazine articles on sailing and their travels.
Now I have even more ideas buzzing around inside my head. I love all the inspiration I get up here from all the amazing people I'm constantly meeting. I hope I continue to get ideas and inspiration from Orkney, though I'm sure I will. I leave on the ferry tonight.
Wednesday, 7 August 2013
Monday, 5 August 2013
Already thinking about next year ...
I might have only just started out on this year's summer holiday but I'm already getting ideas for next year.
I've been following Helen Lloyd's blog on her travels to Central Asia which have included getting the Trans-Siberian Express and going to Mongolia, and this has got me wondering if, in six weeks, I would have time to get the Trans-Siberian Express from Moscow to Beijing and the Trans-Mongolian Express for the return journey, whilst still having time to actually see things. If it's possible I would get to tick two challenges off my list in one go.
Yesterday morning I was chatting to an Austrian women at the campsite in Yell. She has travelled all over Europe in her van and this includes Norway. She told me I shouldn't be worried about Norway being expensive as the UK is the most expensive place she has travelled in. She said fuel is more like regular European prices than UK prices (we seem to pay in pounds what others pay in euros) and it's easy to wild camp and many towns have council provided showers. Taking my van I'd be able to take a lot of my own food and so wouldn't have to worry too much about food prices. So now I'm also thinking about Norway for next summer. Of course if I go to Norway I have to go to Hell and so that would also be a challenge ticked off my list.
I've been following Helen Lloyd's blog on her travels to Central Asia which have included getting the Trans-Siberian Express and going to Mongolia, and this has got me wondering if, in six weeks, I would have time to get the Trans-Siberian Express from Moscow to Beijing and the Trans-Mongolian Express for the return journey, whilst still having time to actually see things. If it's possible I would get to tick two challenges off my list in one go.
Yesterday morning I was chatting to an Austrian women at the campsite in Yell. She has travelled all over Europe in her van and this includes Norway. She told me I shouldn't be worried about Norway being expensive as the UK is the most expensive place she has travelled in. She said fuel is more like regular European prices than UK prices (we seem to pay in pounds what others pay in euros) and it's easy to wild camp and many towns have council provided showers. Taking my van I'd be able to take a lot of my own food and so wouldn't have to worry too much about food prices. So now I'm also thinking about Norway for next summer. Of course if I go to Norway I have to go to Hell and so that would also be a challenge ticked off my list.
Wednesday, 31 July 2013
Getting some inspiration
When I'm at school, I get so overwhelmed with the amount of things I need to do and the amount of my time that is taken up, and I'm so 'in the moment', life outside of school seemingly ceases to exist and all the plans, ideas and hopes I have come to a standstill. As soon as I take time off, get away, give myself chance to meet interesting people (actually, ordinary people like myself except they have done something with their dreams, instead of just filing them away) and before I know it, I'm filled with inspiration and ideas are buzzing inside my head and what's even better, they all seem feasible.
Today I've had two inspiration boosts. Firstly, I visited Foord's Chocolate Factory on Unst. This in itself is inspiring - an English couple started a connoiseur chocolate factory in buildings which are part of the old Saxa Vord complex. (Saxa Vord was built as an RAF base in the days of the cold war.) Not content with merely making delicious chocolates, they have made the most of both their product and their location by making themselves very attractive to tourists. It's possible to wander down the corridor in the factory observing the chocolate making as it happens. There is a room with a display on the history and geography of chocolate and the chocolate making process. Another room taps into the historic associations of their location and has a big display on the RAF connections including uniforms and lots of photographs. At the front of the factory is a cafe selling not only chocolate experiences, but also a range of savoury food. On an island with not many places to grab lunch (the hotel has a restaurant and two of the shops have cafe areas where you can get a cup of instant coffee, a bowl of soup or heat up a pie from the pie counter), and since the Northern Lights Cafe and Bistro closed down (please, somebody buy it and re-open it in exactly the way it was before), having a cafe here is a good way of attracting extra business.
But this wasn't the main source of my first bout of inspiration today. No. At the back of the factory is a room where they sell locally made crafts. Two years ago, on the day I was leaving Unst, I was at the Skibhoul shop and bakery stocking up on their wonderful, thick, chilli-flavoured oatcakes (special ingredient: sea water) and I spotted an old, but very well kept Morris Minor in the car park. I have a thing for Morris Minors having grown up with one. If I was in the position of being able to own a fleet of cars, and if I had the knowledge, time and ability to 'do up' and maintain old cars, I would definitely have one. Along with an old Landrover Defender and an ancient VW combi. But I'm not and I don't. But that just means I'm even more fascinated when I see other people with them. As I left the shop a lady was unpacking her shopping into the Morris Minor. Of course I went over to admire her car and, as happens in places like Unst, we ended up chatting for quite a while.
Heather had recently moved to Unst from Nottingham having taken early retirement from her teaching job. She seemed disillusioned with the way teaching and schools in general were going, and so with redundancies and early retirements on offer, she jumped. Along with her husband, she'd bought a house in Westing on the west side of the island called 'Da Peerie Haa' - Shetlandic for 'the small manor house'. When I met her she was about to leave on a long drive in her Morris Minor to the Isle of Wight. She was doing it for charity and referred to it as 'Westing to Wight' - sounds much better than John O'Groats to Land's End. Being unsure as to whether or not the Morris Minor would make actually make it, her husband was driving a campervan as a back up vehicle. Although I read something about the trip in the Shetland Times that week, I never found out the end of the story. I don't know if the Morris Minor made it or how the journey was.
Heather had told me to pop in next time I was in Unst, so I decided to take her at her word as I really wanted to know how the story ended. I drove out to her house yesterday but no-one seemed to be about and there was no sign of the Morris Minor. Was this a bad sign? Did it mean that the Morris Minor hadn't made it and was now relegated to life on a scrap heap? Or did it mean that the dream retirement on Unst wasn't so dreamy after all and they'd returned to the mainland (as in mainland UK and not mainland Shetland)? The lady in Skibhoul told me she was still living on the island though she didn't know if she was at this moment in time. She also didn't remember if the Morris Minor had made it to the Isle of Wight.
Today, in the craft room at the Foord's Chocolate Factory, I looked round the handmade scarves, hats, gloves and so on, and was just about to leave when I spotted an interesting stand half hidden behind the door. The stand was displaying an array of colourful knitted bags, each one individual. The sign at the top said 'Bags by Heather' and there was a woodcut of her house which was labelled 'Da Peeried Haa'. It had to be the same Heather, it had to be. I bought a very unusual bag for £10 and asked the man (Mr Foord?) if she was on the island at the moment. She's not because she's back in Nottingham for a wedding in which the Morris Minor is being used as a wedding car. So I know she's still living here and I know the Morris Minor is still living here. I also know it made it to the Isle of Wight because Mr Foord told me so. What I don't know is how the journey went. As she's not due back until early August I'll probably miss her (unless it's very early August, as in tomorrow, aka August 1st).
So this was my first bout of inspiration today. She's been living here for over two years, has started a little business and has completed her dream 'expedition'.
Leaving the chocolate factory, I headed for the brewery (is this a dream island or what? Lightly inhabited, stunning views, amazing wildlife, fascinating history and geology, pretty much as isolated as you can get in the UK (apart from Foula and Fair Isle) and yet it has its own chocolate factory and its own brewery. And there's talk of a distillery setting up too. Should it be renamed Paradise Island?).
The Valhalla Brewery, Shetland's one and only, has moved since I was last here. Owner, Sonny Priest, has expanded from a barn outside his house into much bigger premises at Saxa Vord. He makes six beers and I always buy a selection to take home. I called in on the off-chance that he would now take card payments (he never did before) and I could stock up now to save coming back later. He doesn't. But I was just in time to go on a tour (£4.50 including a bottle of beer of your choice at the end). It was interesting to see the workings and hear how the six beers are made with different combinations of the various grains. But his own story of how he came to own a brewery is what provided me with my second bout of inspiration for the day.
He left school at 15 with no qualifications and trained as a joiner. After several years of joinery he went to sea for three years on a North Sea trawler. This was followed by a job at Baltasound Airport (a tiny strip of runway with a few sheep grazing on it and not much else) and in the attached firehouse. Redundancy led him to to wondering what to do next with his life. He toyed briefly with the idea of opening a launderette, but following a drinking session with some of his soon to be ex-workmates, he found himself promising to start a brewery in order to keep them drinking. This may have been a drunken comment but the seed (of barley presumably?) had been sown and it germinated and lo and behold, he found himself in 1997 setting up a brewery and hiring a master brewer as he had no idea about brewing himself.
I'm planning my hostel and planning a sandwich bar / coffee shop, and all these other things and I keep on planning and not doing, as I feel I'm not ready; I don't know enough; I don't have the right skills; I need more money; and excuse after excuse. Here's a guy who didn't have a clue about the business he was starting, but jumped in, did what he needed to do to get it up and running, and learnt what he needed to know as he went along. I am most definitely inspired by this. Now, I only have to keep hold of all this inspiration once I'm back at school and getting bogged down in marking, planning and beaurocracy.
Today I've had two inspiration boosts. Firstly, I visited Foord's Chocolate Factory on Unst. This in itself is inspiring - an English couple started a connoiseur chocolate factory in buildings which are part of the old Saxa Vord complex. (Saxa Vord was built as an RAF base in the days of the cold war.) Not content with merely making delicious chocolates, they have made the most of both their product and their location by making themselves very attractive to tourists. It's possible to wander down the corridor in the factory observing the chocolate making as it happens. There is a room with a display on the history and geography of chocolate and the chocolate making process. Another room taps into the historic associations of their location and has a big display on the RAF connections including uniforms and lots of photographs. At the front of the factory is a cafe selling not only chocolate experiences, but also a range of savoury food. On an island with not many places to grab lunch (the hotel has a restaurant and two of the shops have cafe areas where you can get a cup of instant coffee, a bowl of soup or heat up a pie from the pie counter), and since the Northern Lights Cafe and Bistro closed down (please, somebody buy it and re-open it in exactly the way it was before), having a cafe here is a good way of attracting extra business.
But this wasn't the main source of my first bout of inspiration today. No. At the back of the factory is a room where they sell locally made crafts. Two years ago, on the day I was leaving Unst, I was at the Skibhoul shop and bakery stocking up on their wonderful, thick, chilli-flavoured oatcakes (special ingredient: sea water) and I spotted an old, but very well kept Morris Minor in the car park. I have a thing for Morris Minors having grown up with one. If I was in the position of being able to own a fleet of cars, and if I had the knowledge, time and ability to 'do up' and maintain old cars, I would definitely have one. Along with an old Landrover Defender and an ancient VW combi. But I'm not and I don't. But that just means I'm even more fascinated when I see other people with them. As I left the shop a lady was unpacking her shopping into the Morris Minor. Of course I went over to admire her car and, as happens in places like Unst, we ended up chatting for quite a while.
Heather had recently moved to Unst from Nottingham having taken early retirement from her teaching job. She seemed disillusioned with the way teaching and schools in general were going, and so with redundancies and early retirements on offer, she jumped. Along with her husband, she'd bought a house in Westing on the west side of the island called 'Da Peerie Haa' - Shetlandic for 'the small manor house'. When I met her she was about to leave on a long drive in her Morris Minor to the Isle of Wight. She was doing it for charity and referred to it as 'Westing to Wight' - sounds much better than John O'Groats to Land's End. Being unsure as to whether or not the Morris Minor would make actually make it, her husband was driving a campervan as a back up vehicle. Although I read something about the trip in the Shetland Times that week, I never found out the end of the story. I don't know if the Morris Minor made it or how the journey was.
Heather had told me to pop in next time I was in Unst, so I decided to take her at her word as I really wanted to know how the story ended. I drove out to her house yesterday but no-one seemed to be about and there was no sign of the Morris Minor. Was this a bad sign? Did it mean that the Morris Minor hadn't made it and was now relegated to life on a scrap heap? Or did it mean that the dream retirement on Unst wasn't so dreamy after all and they'd returned to the mainland (as in mainland UK and not mainland Shetland)? The lady in Skibhoul told me she was still living on the island though she didn't know if she was at this moment in time. She also didn't remember if the Morris Minor had made it to the Isle of Wight.
Today, in the craft room at the Foord's Chocolate Factory, I looked round the handmade scarves, hats, gloves and so on, and was just about to leave when I spotted an interesting stand half hidden behind the door. The stand was displaying an array of colourful knitted bags, each one individual. The sign at the top said 'Bags by Heather' and there was a woodcut of her house which was labelled 'Da Peeried Haa'. It had to be the same Heather, it had to be. I bought a very unusual bag for £10 and asked the man (Mr Foord?) if she was on the island at the moment. She's not because she's back in Nottingham for a wedding in which the Morris Minor is being used as a wedding car. So I know she's still living here and I know the Morris Minor is still living here. I also know it made it to the Isle of Wight because Mr Foord told me so. What I don't know is how the journey went. As she's not due back until early August I'll probably miss her (unless it's very early August, as in tomorrow, aka August 1st).
So this was my first bout of inspiration today. She's been living here for over two years, has started a little business and has completed her dream 'expedition'.
Leaving the chocolate factory, I headed for the brewery (is this a dream island or what? Lightly inhabited, stunning views, amazing wildlife, fascinating history and geology, pretty much as isolated as you can get in the UK (apart from Foula and Fair Isle) and yet it has its own chocolate factory and its own brewery. And there's talk of a distillery setting up too. Should it be renamed Paradise Island?).
The Valhalla Brewery, Shetland's one and only, has moved since I was last here. Owner, Sonny Priest, has expanded from a barn outside his house into much bigger premises at Saxa Vord. He makes six beers and I always buy a selection to take home. I called in on the off-chance that he would now take card payments (he never did before) and I could stock up now to save coming back later. He doesn't. But I was just in time to go on a tour (£4.50 including a bottle of beer of your choice at the end). It was interesting to see the workings and hear how the six beers are made with different combinations of the various grains. But his own story of how he came to own a brewery is what provided me with my second bout of inspiration for the day.
He left school at 15 with no qualifications and trained as a joiner. After several years of joinery he went to sea for three years on a North Sea trawler. This was followed by a job at Baltasound Airport (a tiny strip of runway with a few sheep grazing on it and not much else) and in the attached firehouse. Redundancy led him to to wondering what to do next with his life. He toyed briefly with the idea of opening a launderette, but following a drinking session with some of his soon to be ex-workmates, he found himself promising to start a brewery in order to keep them drinking. This may have been a drunken comment but the seed (of barley presumably?) had been sown and it germinated and lo and behold, he found himself in 1997 setting up a brewery and hiring a master brewer as he had no idea about brewing himself.
I'm planning my hostel and planning a sandwich bar / coffee shop, and all these other things and I keep on planning and not doing, as I feel I'm not ready; I don't know enough; I don't have the right skills; I need more money; and excuse after excuse. Here's a guy who didn't have a clue about the business he was starting, but jumped in, did what he needed to do to get it up and running, and learnt what he needed to know as he went along. I am most definitely inspired by this. Now, I only have to keep hold of all this inspiration once I'm back at school and getting bogged down in marking, planning and beaurocracy.
Wednesday, 24 July 2013
Jammin', jammin' (hope you like jammin' too)
I should be on the boat to Shetland now. Instead I'm making jam in Manchester.
I want to avoid driving in the heat so had intended driving up to Aberdeen yesterday evening and then catching tonight's overnight ferry to Lerwick, but, the best laid plans and all that ... I keep finding things to do here and although I'm aware that my time for travelling in Shetland and Orkney is ticking away, I'm feeling good about getting so many things sorted out at home. My life is usually completely chaotic with far too many things going at once, and so I end up with piles of papers, books, camping gear, etc, all over my house and feel completely disorganised. For once, I'm working through those piles and getting everything sorted out. I've even been picking all the fruit from my tiny garden (white currants, blackcurrants and gooseberries) and had a go at making jam. For the last few years I've tried this without success, as I always misjudge the setting point and it turns to toffee. This year I've bought a jam thermometer and it seems to work. Finally I have my own home-made jam.
I've had chance to catch up with a few friends as well. Yesterday a friend called round with a bag of goodies for lunch and we were able to sit out in the yard and enjoy a relaxing few hours round a table of salads, garlic bread and home-made lemonade (yep, even had time to make my own lemonade!). And then this morning I was able to have a nice chat on the phone with my friend who lives in Oman. She's just arrived in the UK to spend a few weeks with her parents and if I had left on time, I wouldn't have been able to chat with her. Unfortunately we won't get to meet up, but I'll be seeing her soon enough when I go to Oman in October. I'm already getting excited about that holiday and I've not even got started on this one yet!
I want to avoid driving in the heat so had intended driving up to Aberdeen yesterday evening and then catching tonight's overnight ferry to Lerwick, but, the best laid plans and all that ... I keep finding things to do here and although I'm aware that my time for travelling in Shetland and Orkney is ticking away, I'm feeling good about getting so many things sorted out at home. My life is usually completely chaotic with far too many things going at once, and so I end up with piles of papers, books, camping gear, etc, all over my house and feel completely disorganised. For once, I'm working through those piles and getting everything sorted out. I've even been picking all the fruit from my tiny garden (white currants, blackcurrants and gooseberries) and had a go at making jam. For the last few years I've tried this without success, as I always misjudge the setting point and it turns to toffee. This year I've bought a jam thermometer and it seems to work. Finally I have my own home-made jam.
I've had chance to catch up with a few friends as well. Yesterday a friend called round with a bag of goodies for lunch and we were able to sit out in the yard and enjoy a relaxing few hours round a table of salads, garlic bread and home-made lemonade (yep, even had time to make my own lemonade!). And then this morning I was able to have a nice chat on the phone with my friend who lives in Oman. She's just arrived in the UK to spend a few weeks with her parents and if I had left on time, I wouldn't have been able to chat with her. Unfortunately we won't get to meet up, but I'll be seeing her soon enough when I go to Oman in October. I'm already getting excited about that holiday and I've not even got started on this one yet!
Wednesday, 3 July 2013
Duke of Edinburgh Weekends
Last weekend was the last of my four Duke of Edinburgh Award expedition weekends. I've been wanting to get involved with this for years and it has been every bit as good as I was hoping it would be. Of course losing four weekends in close succession means I'm knackered and behind with everything else, but I think it was worth it. Even when it's been chucking it down and nearly blowing me off the tops I've still enjoyed it. I've worked with a good team of people and the kids have all been great. We've dealt with issues and problems as they've arisen and I think we've dealt with them well. I'm so glad I've had the opportunity to do this before starting my BELA (Basic Expedition Leader's Award) course in September as I feel really confident about it now. I think I really could enjoy doing this kind of thing full-time - I just have to think of a way of actually making a decent living out of it!
Thursday, 6 June 2013
Bude to Crackington Haven
Sunday 26th May, 2013
I'd slept in a layby just outside of Crackington Haven. Yesterday evening I'd driven down into the little village to scout out parking and had hoped to spend the night in a car park with a view and where I could leave my van the next day. It wasn't to be as both car parks had 'no overnight parking' signs. The main car park was £5 for all day and was a pay and display with a coins only machine. As I didn't haven't £5 in change this would be no good to me. Slightly up the hill I'd just come down I'd noticed a sign pointing down a rough track saying parking £2 all day. I checked it out and it was basically a field with a couple of picnic tables and an honesty box. It was run by a local charity. I'd much rather give £2 to a local charity than £5 to a commercial enterprise. And I did have £2 in change. And it was an honesty box, not a pay and display, so even if I didn't have £2 in change I could have changed a note during the day and paid before I left.
Crackington Haven is a tiny place nestled in a hollow between hills and cliffs and with a tiny beach, a big pub and a shop. The light as the sun went down was wonderful so I took a couple of photos before heading out to the layby I'd spotted earlier. I slept really well and this morning was back down in Crackington Haven, parked up, breakfasted and kitted up ready to catch the 9.07 bus to Bude.
Arriving 20 minutes later I wasn't sure what to make of Bude. On the one hand, it was quite pretty with a canal running down to the sea, complete with its own lock. On the other hand, it looked like a tacky tourist trap, with a big fairground covering rather a large proportion of the car park.
The path went uphill to a tower viewpoint, then followed the top of the cliffs all the way to Widemouth Bay. This was a busy place, with cafes, a big car park, a surf school, ice cream van and toilets. As it was such a glorious day there were plenty of people about, many of them in wetsuits in the water with surfboards, though there didn't seem to be much surf.
I crossed the beach and the path headed back up again. I followed the grassy cliff tops for a while before having to detour to the road about 1km before Wanson Mouth. The cliffs have really crumbled away here, necessitating the detour. At times the road seems to be almost on the cliff edge and I wondered how long until it slips too. The sides of the road were lined with hedgerows in a way typical to this part of the country. Although it was lovely walking between them and seeing so many wildflowers in bloom, it was a bit frustrating not to be able to see more than the odd glimpse of the sea that I knew was so close. And it was very frustrating to have to walk on a tarmac road. Fortunately there weren't many cars. 
Arriving above Millook, I looked in wonder at the lovely, little bay down below; and I looked in shock at the almost vertical drop to get down to it. My knees hurt just at the thought of it. Fortunately there was a conveniently placed bench, so I sat and ate lunch and gave my knees a pep talk.
The path zig-zagged up the road from Millook, though it wasn't long before it left the road. I now walked through some lovely woodland, with bluebells and wild garlic and stunted oak trees. This was Dizzard Wood and apparently the many lichens covering the trunks are of national importance.
The path dipped down several times to cross babbling streams before climbing back up again. One descent was even worse than the one into Millook. Rough steps had been cut into the side, shored up by deeply embedded planks of wood. Some of them were so steep I had to go round them. The ground was shingly and moved underfoot. I spent a long time descending. At the bottom it was over a footbridge and then a stile. All day I've had kissing gates. But after a descent like that, when my knees don't want to work anymore, can they put a kissing gate? No. They put a stile.
I wasn't the only one who'd taken the descent so slowly. A couple were behind me and we stopped to chat at the bottom. They live in Dorset and have walked the final 100 miles of the path. Now they're starting at the beginning and, bit by bit, trying to so the rest.
They were followed down by a woman a bit older than myself, but twice as sprightly. She'd walked the whole path years ago, with her mum driving a back-up vehicle. Now she comes back for odd weekends and just does her favourite bits. And over 630 miles there are a lot of favourite bits. We walked back to Crackington Haven together. There were a few more ups and downs, but none as bad as the one where we'd met, or as bad as the one into Millook.
Once back in Crackington Haven, it was back to my van and a drive to the campsite in Stoke in the Hartland area where I planned to base myself for most of the week.
Tuesday, 4 June 2013
I've got a hole in my walk
I had hoped to walk to Cornwall
The final, last, right in the bottom corner, county in England. Ok, I wasn't going to walk all the way from here, but I was going to walk from North Devon along the coastal path and was quite excited at the thought of walking across that county border.But things don't always go to plan
I did walk in North Devon and I did walk in Cornwall, but I didn't actually walk across the border. Over the last couple of years I've walked from Minehead in Somerset to Westward Ho! (yes, the exclamation mark is part of the spelling) in Devon along the South West Coast Path and this year I planned to walk from where I'd left off in Westward Ho! to Crackington Haven in Cornwall. When I crossed the border from Somerset to Devon, it was nice to know I'd got to my second county, but not really a big deal. Maybe because I'd not walked end to end of the Somerset coast and because Devon isn't in the end, sticky out, bottom bit of the country. Walking to Cornwall, however, did seem like a big deal and yet that actual border crossing is the only bit of the walk I didn't get to do. So I now have a gap in my walk which I'll have to fill next year before I carry on from Crackington Haven.So why the gap?
Well, the sub-title for this post could be 'My Van Doesn't Like Bank Holidays'. I'd planned to drive down to Devon on the Friday night so I could go to Lundy Island on the Saturday morning, but was way too tired and so just went to bed instead. I drove down on Saturday afternoon, arriving in Crackington Haven just before the sun went down. Because of the dearth of buses on a Sunday in this part of the world, the only bit of my walk I was able to do on a Sunday was the last bit. I wanted to check out the parking situation and find the bus stop before the following morning so wound my way down narrow, bendy lanes. It looked really pretty in the nice evening light and I took the first couple of photos of my trip. However, just before I'd arrived I'd taken a wrong turn and had to do a three point turn. As I turned into the reverse part of the three point there was a horrible metallic scraping noise. If I'd been near railings I'd have assumed I'd scraped the side of my van down them. But there was nothing like that nearby and nothing underneath the van either. Once I straightened up and drove off I realised I had a problem with my steering. It was very, very stiff. I took bends and turns really slowly, putting all my weight into making the steering wheel move and worrying that it might seize up completely on me and I wouldn't get round the bend and would crash into the side instead. I've never hoped to be round the bend so much before!I parked up for the night
In a layby on the main road above Crackington Haven that was set back from road, and the next morning slowly drove back down to park for the day. I caught the bus to Bude and walked back. I then had to drive to the campsite in Stoke near Hartland where I was planning to base myself for the rest of the week. I had no idea what was wrong. I'd checked everything I could think of checking, which with my limited mechanical knowledge, is not a lot, but couldn't spot anything obviously wrong. I spoke to the farmer at the campsite about my problem and he recommended a local garage. Of course being bank holiday weekend there was nothing I could do till Tuesday.On Monday
The weather forecast proved accurate and it was horrendous with rain and wind. I'd already decided not to walk on Monday as I didn't think it would be particularly safe on the coast and anyway, it was a bank holiday and so there were no buses. Instead I'd planned to get out and about in the van and be a tourist. As I didn't want to risk driving anywhere I spent the day in the van catching up on reading.Tuesday morning
Dawned bright and beautiful and so I drove the couple of miles to Hartland and found the garage. I had to leave the van with them for a few hours and so wandered off to Hartland Abbey for a poke around. The gardens were lovely, as was the house - it had started out as an abbey but over the years had been turned into a stately home. The people were also lovely and various members of the staff reassured me that the garage I'd taken my van to was the best around and told me if I was going to break down I was lucky it had happened here. The ladies in the café let me use their phone to ring the garage when I couldn't get any mobile reception and the lady who collects tickets gave me a lift back to the garage at the end of the day.I needed a new steering pump which had to be ordered
As well as being expensive this meant I also couldn't use my van on Wednesday as it had to go back to the garage to have the pump fitted. So on Wednesday I wandered off to Docton Mill. This mill has been turned into a lovely private home with extensive and gorgeous gardens. The gardens are open to the public and there's a bit of an exhibition on the mill, a turning water-wheel, and a café which won an award for having the best cream teas in 2007. It didn't say why they hadn't won it again since so, in the interests of research, I tried one. It was delicious. If there is a better place that's been scooping the award for the last six years, I'd love to know about it.On Thursday
I could finally get out walking again. I walked into Hartland and caught the bus to Clovelly. This touristy, but delightful little village hewn into the rock face, I explored last year. So this year I started my walk straight away and walked back to Hartland Quay and then up the lane to the campsite. It was exhausting but wonderful.Friday morning
I parked in Clovelly and caught a couple of buses to get me to Westward Ho! to do what should have really been the first part of my walk. For some reason I wasn't expecting the walk back to Clovelly to be that challenging but was I wrong. I had planned to do the only missing bit of my walk on Saturday before driving home, but as this would be the most challenging and longest walk of the trip (over 15 miles of hills, plus almost 3 miles to get from Hartland village to Hartland Quay to even start the walk), I decided this would be too much for me to do after two already full-on days of walking (my knees had swelled that much from all the descents that they seemed to have developed 3 kneecaps each) and the need to do a long drive home straight afterwards.So I went to Lundy Island instead
I picked my van up at Clovelly and drove to Ilfracombe where I found a lovely parking bay in Hele overlooking the rocky coastline to spend the night. I hadn't booked but it was no problem to get on the ferry and I had lovely sunny boat ride and a walk round the island. I'm pleased I finally got to Lundy, but it is disappointing to have this glaring gap in my walk.Ah well, there's always next year, and I did get to see a couple of places I might not have seen otherwise.
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