Coleridge Way and South West Coast Path

Saturday 5th September 2020

During these few days that I had in the Exmoor National Park I had been walking along the coastal path that is part of the South West Coast Path and had completed about half the Exmoor coastline covering the distance from Combe Martin, in the west, to just after Foreland Point. This was my last day in Exmoor on this holiday and I thought I would go to the eastern end of the Exmoor coastline and walk along the coastal path from Minehead, but eventually I decided I would simply continue my trek along the South West Coast Path starting from my furthest point, just after Foreland Point. Leaving the Caffyns Farm campsite, where I had been staying while in Exmoor, I drove through the tortuous bends and steep roads of Lynmouth and up to the car park near Foreland Point, beside Barna Barrow. Crossing the road I took a bridlepath that gradually descends around Holden Head before plunging into the woodland at the bottom of the East Lyn valley. Three days before I had walked from Watersmeet, a short distance down the river from this point, along the course of the Coleridge Way, a long distance trail that runs from Lynmouth to Coleridge Cottage in the Quantock Hills. Now I resumed my trek along that trail following the East Lyn River upstream.

Initially it was rather overcast as I descended into the valley, but the sun soon came out with the woodland providing me with some speckled sunshine as I headed through the valley. After passing Rockford and Alderford I eventually reached Brendon where the path climbs the northern bank of the valley that had now widened and was no longer wooded. It wasn’t too long before the path started to descend again as I approached a sharp right turn in the valley where the valley narrows delectably through Ashton Cleave. Back down beside the river I was in awe of the surroundings but frustrated at not being able to take a good picture of it due to some cloud cover. The valley soon opened up again near Lorna Doone Farm and Malmsmead where the river splits into Badgeworthy Water and Oare Water. The Coleridge Way soon leaves the Oare Water and heads uphill, but I left the trail to follow a path through Derry Combe. Most of the way it seemed to be a good route, but before reaching the top I crossed a fence and found very boggy ground and no path so it was only by dragging myself through bogs, briar and steep slopes that I was able to reach the top of the combe.

Looking back I realised it would have been better to have climbed the ridge on the Coleridge Way and then branched off to the top of Derry Combe. From there the Coleridge Way heads over the main road and down the hill to the South West Coast Path, which is also what I was doing, but on a different path over Yenworthy Common. Soon I reached a path coming in from the right that is marked as being the South West Coast Path, but is an inland alternative and is not marked on my Harvey map of the route. As the skies cleared of the lingering cloud the path descended increasingly steeply through gorgeous woodland scenery to reach the official coast path. Turning left I proceeded along the wide track all the way back to my car but this was initially very dull with no views out to sea and on a tedious path. A steep climb up this dreary track exhausted and frustrated me as I toiled up the unrelenting slope until eventually the coast path came off the track after leaving me absolutely worn out. Not long after that the coastal path finally left the wide tracks behind to head off along fabulous, narrow paths that cling precipitously high above steep slopes that fall all the way down to the sea far below with stunning views across the Bristol Channel.

Unfortunately my view was often obscured by thick rhododendron groves that despite previous attempts to cut them back had returned as thick as ever. This fabulous path continued through gorgeous woodland above Glenthorne Cliffs until eventually I came out of the woodland beside the service road for Foreland Point lighthouse that I had climbed three days before. Once again, I left the coastal path, climbing up this road all the way to Barna Barrow where I had parked breaking one of the rules of circular walking. You shouldn’t park at the top of a hill because then you have to climb up to your car at the end of a long, tiring walk, but this is a rule that I break annoyingly frequently. This was an enjoyable walk with some lovely moments such as in the wooded valley and along the terraced path above Glenthorne Cliffs, but it was also very exhausting. I had finished the walk early, about two o’clock, because I had a long drive ahead of me, though it was disappointing that the weather was now good after poor weather had blighted most of my time in Exmoor. I had originally planned to spend more time in Exmoor, but that didn’t happen, so after just four days I had left plenty more to come back and see, which hopefully would not be too far in the future.

Holdstone Down and Great Hangman

Friday 4th September 2020

After failing to do my intended walk the day before, because my car wouldn’t start, now thanks to the A.A. I was able to drive to the Heddon valley and the Hunter’s Inn where I parked. I had hoped the rain of the previous day would be gone, but it was still persisting when I headed down the valley and joined the South West Coast Path once again and climbed ridiculously steeply out of the Heddon valley. The coastal path is very tiring with a lot of ups and downs to negotiate so that even though I wasn’t climbing any mountains it felt as if I had. As I toiled up Heddon’s Mouth Cleave the rain stopped and the sun came out making me think that I would be getting some good weather again, but my hopes were soon dashed as it clouded over. Eventually the terrain eased and I was able to enjoy the walk around the headland above Heddon’s Mouth passing Peter Rock before climbing to a fence with farmland on the other side. The path crosses the fence for a brief spell here due to erosion on the path above East Cleave, though it was clear that some people had still tried to walk on the cliff side of the fence, but this is so dangerously close to a very high, steep drop down East Cleave that it felt very scary for me, even from the far side of the fence.

Eventually I left the edge of the farmland and entered Holdstone Down where I found a gorgeous, colourful display of the yellow flowers of gorse and the purple flowers of heather with the green leaves of bracken mixed in amongst them. Unfortunately it started raining at this point so I wasn’t able to fully enjoy the moorland flowers as I skirted around Holdstone Down until the deep valley of Sherrycombe came into view and my heart sank at the prospect of another steep descent and ascent. With my knees complaining I dropped straight down the side of the valley before climbing, stupidly steeply, back up the hillside. This was really exhausting, though fortunately by this time the rain had stopped, so half way up I took off my waterproofs and struggled up the path slowly climbing Girt Down to the large cairn at Great Hangman. For some reason there was a gathering of a dozen men at the top, which made it difficult for me to keep my distance while going around them, but once on the other side I was able to head back down the hill with extensive views ahead of me that led all the way down to Combe Martin Bay.

I was walking along a low ridge above the sea cliffs to my right and farmland to my left that led me towards the prominent peak of Little Hangman. The coastal path doesn’t quite go all the way up to top, merely skirting close by, but I couldn’t resist the short, steep climb up to the top of Little Hangman where I had good views across the bay and back along the coast. Returning to the coastal path I followed it down very narrow paths where it would not have been possible to maintain social distancing while passing other people, but fortunately I only needed to do that where there was just about enough room. This brought me all the way down to the popular seaside resort of Combe Martin on the edge of the Exmoor National Park. The coastline beyond Combe Martin, outside of Exmoor, is not quite as spectacular without the high cliffs that characterise the stunning Exmoor coast so I was more than happy to turn around at this point and start heading back. After having my lunch I climbed steeply out of the village on a deeply gouged path with high earth banks onto a road that prolongs the climb up Knap Down until eventually the gradient eased and I rejoined the coast path on Girt Down. Unfortunately the deep valley of Sherrycombe was in my way and I had no way of avoiding that stupid descent and ascent again until finally I came off the coast path to head up to the top of Holdstone Hill.

Earlier, while on the coastal path, I had skirted around Holdstone Down, but now I was able to head straight up to the large cairn and trig point that marks the top of Holdstone Hill. On the far side of the moor I could see Trentishoe Down and my map marks the summit as Trentishoe Barrows so, not able to help myself, even though there is hardly any path to the top and the path I wanted goes nowhere near the top, I headed out across the heather down to the ancient burial mound. Since there was hardly anything to see there I soon turned around and headed back the way I had come until I could take the wide track that I should have been on across the southern slopes of Trentishoe Down gradually descending into woodland in Trentishoe Coombe. Near the bottom of the valley I came across the excellent path of Ladies Mile that serenaded me along the side of the valley before turning downhill to the bottom of the valley where I followed a path that took me back to Hunter’s Inn.

Although the weather improved on this walk after the mid-morning rain it remained overcast all day and was never particularly warm. The walk was very exhausting with having to steeply descend into and climb out of Sherrycombe twice and it had just not enthralled me for some reason. It is understandable that I didn’t enjoy the walk in the rain the day before but that doesn’t explain this walk and that is a shame as it is a lovely area.

Heddon's Mouth

Thursday 3rd September 2020

The weather on this walk was terrible. Over the Bank Holiday weekend in Dartmoor I had been blessed with great, sunny weather, but since moving to Exmoor the weather had deteriorated. It had started raining when I got back to the campsite after my walk the day before and it was still raining when I got up, which was not making me enthusiastic about going for a walk. I was sitting in my car, sheltering from the rain, thinking I don’t want to go, I don’t want to walk in this weather, but eventually I got all packed to go and was back into my car ready to drive to the car park for the start of the walk, and my car wouldn’t start. It was just the battery, but I didn’t want to be calling out the A.A. in this weather so I was really unsure what to do. I didn’t want to do anything in this weather. After much delay I decided that I would go for a walk from the campsite and finish early so I could call the A.A. in the afternoon. My plan had been to drive to Hunter’s Inn, in the Heddon valley, and walk along the coastal path, but since I could no longer do that I decided I would start the coastal path from the campsite heading to Hunter’s Inn. Heading down the hill I entered Caffyns Heanton Wood, just as I had done the day before, but whereas then I had turned right towards Lynton now I turned left descending steeply through the wood until I reached a picturesque little valley with the stream of the lee running at the bottom.

Taking a track on the other side I soon reached a wood-lined road along with the South West Coast Path and walked along the road for a while, which is what I had planned to avoid as this section of the coastal path just follows the road, until events had conspired against me. Eventually my surroundings improved as I reached Woody Bay where the lovely orange flowers of crocosmia decorated the entrances to driveways. There I turned off the road onto a path that crosses the bay above Martinhoe Manor and led me through West Woodybay Wood until finally I emerged out into the open coastline with views out to sea from the bracken and gorse covered hillside. Unfortunately, because of the rain, the visibility was very poor when otherwise the views would have been fabulous walking along a narrow path high above the Bristol Channel, and instead I had to content myself simply with the walk. After passing Great Burland Rocks I swung round the headland and entered the long, narrow valley of the River Heddon where the path gradually descends to the bottom of the valley.

When I reached the bottom I saw a sign for Heddon’s Mouth so I left the coastal path and turned north past the raging river, swollen by the rain, and came out at the mouth of the river where it meets the sea in spectacular surroundings. A stony beach and fantastic rock formations provided me with lots to look at, though the rain was not making it easy and the rocks were very slippery. When I got fed up with slipping on the rocks I headed back inland, this time staying on the western side of the river, passing the coastal path as it crosses the valley until I reached a road not far from the Hunter’s Inn where I had planned to park. While wishing it would stop raining I had my lunch before setting off back towards the campsite taking a slightly different route branching onto a path that takes a higher route up the hillside and it wasn’t long before the rain finally stopped and as I climbed into the side valley of Hill Brook the air cleared down the valley affording me with views that I had not been granted earlier in the day.

After rounding the headland I passed the remains of a Roman fortlet, called the Beacon, and I couldn’t resist climbing the muddy, eroded path up to the top where I now had relatively good views down the coast. Back on the path I now had a much more pleasurable walk along the path with better views and without the rain, but eventually the path brought me back into West Woodybay Wood and robbed me of the views. This led me onto a road that took me back onto the coastal path at the point where I had earlier left the road. Not long after this point the coastal path has an alternative route that heads out to Crock Point and I was tempted to take this route now, but I needed to get back to the campsite so I could call out the A.A. to get my car fixed, so instead I branched off the road to climb through Bonhill Wood, crossing the Lee, and climbing, once again, all the way up to the campsite. It is amazing how much nicer it is to be walking when it isn’t raining. The views are so much worse when it is raining and you are keeping your head down just trying to get to your destination as quickly as possible. Without the rain you take your time and enjoy the views and your surroundings as you slowly stroll along the path. However, since this is Britain you have got to get used to the rain.

The Valley of Rocks and Watersmeet

Wednesday 2nd September 2020

After four days in Dartmoor I had driven north to the Exmoor National Park, which is a place that I had visited only once before, in 2007, when I did a walk across the moor passing over the highest point in the park at Dunkery Beacon and completely ignored the spectacular coastline, but now I had a chance to correct that and spend a bit more time in the area. I was staying at the Caffyns Farm campsite near Lynton and decided that would be my first target, so under overcast skies I set off from the campsite into the Caffyns Heanton Wood. After enjoying four days of fabulous weather in Dartmoor conditions had now deteriorated as it inevitably does in Britain, but I wasn’t about to let a bit of rain spoil my holiday as I descended steeply through the wood. However, I couldn’t help thinking that it wouldn’t be enjoyable to have to climb all the way back up to the campsite at the end of a long, tiring walk, so I was already trying to come up with an alternative way back, though I was on a walk that was not yet completely planned even though I had already started it. My first goal was just to walk along the coast path until lunchtime, so after a brief visit to Lee Bay I walked along the road past Lee Abbey to the Valley of Rocks, which is a place that I had heard a lot about and was looking forward to experiencing, even if it wasn’t to be in the best of weather.

On crossing a cattle grid the coastal path leaves the road to a viewpoint above Wringcliff Bay that looks into the Valley of Rocks with the Castle Rock prominently the view. The rocks are much shattered leaving very low, but steep hills, while the most striking feature is the proximity of the sea with sheer cliff faces falling straight down. Some people were climbing up to the top of Castle Rock, but the path seemed too narrow to be able to follow them up so I instead took a clear, tarmacked path that passes to the seaward side of the line of hills and provides spectacular views up and down the coast while walking on a good footpath. Despite the poor weather the misty views across the Bristol Channel towards Wales were tantalising and the views up and down the coast were enthralling as I made my way along the path while trying to keep a social distance from the other people passing me. At a branch path I climbed steeply to the top of the ridge where I had a great view along the line of hills and was tempted to scramble all the way along, but although I was enjoying being at the top of the ridge I didn’t linger and instead reversed my steps back onto the coastal path.

Soon the path entered a wood and widens into a road as it enters Lynton, which is a popular tourist resort that is composed of two, twinned villages with Lynton at the top of the hill and at the bottom of a steep hillside, at the coast, is Lynmouth. A cliff railway links the two and the path crosses it three times as it slowly zigzags down the hill so I had three opportunities to see the railway carriages that are propelled purely by water as they travel up and down the hill before finally, and much to the relief of my aching knees, I reached the bottom. Quickly passing through Lynmouth while doing my best to avoid the crowds, I kept on the route of the South West Coast Path crossing the river and was soon climbing steeply out of Lynmouth. The main road follows the path up and must be a big test for car and driver, and it was very exhausting for me as I toiled up the path constantly climbing until finally the terrain eased and I could now enjoy the terraced path high above the sea that passes through the gorgeous vegetation of heather and gorse below Butter Hill.

Soon the path started descending towards the Foreland where a path signposted as being dangerous heads off to the lighthouse at Foreland Point and maybe with hindsight I should have tried that path as instead I followed the path along the top of the Foreland where I was exposed to violent winds that threatened to blow me over. Eventually I returned back along the ridge to the coastal path and followed it down into the sheltered Coddow Combe where I had my lunch. At the bottom of the valley is a tarmacked road that goes to the lighthouse and I followed that uphill even after the coastal path leaves it to continue along the coast as I climbed back up along the zigzags of the service road onto the heather covered moor to the east of Butter Hill. Soon after I veered off towards the top of Butter Hill it started raining and, thinking the rain was going to be here to stay I got all my waterproofs on before continuing to the trig point and radio mast that is at the top of Butter Hill. Turning south I came to the road at the small community of Countisbury where I took a path that after crossing a few fields starts to descend steeply through woodland to the popular tourist attraction of Watersmeet at the bottom of the East Lyn valley.

This is the spot where the East Lyn River and Hoar Oak Water meet and where there is an old fishing lodge that is now owned by the National Trust and run as a souvenir shop and café. The rain stopped soon after I reached the bottom of the valley but would return periodically throughout the afternoon much to my annoyance as I didn’t know whether to wear waterproofs or not. I still didn’t have a route for the rest of the walk and dithered around for a while trying to decide whether to climb the southern bank of the valley until eventually I decided that I would stay at the bottom of the valley and walk along the northern side of the river following the course of the Coleridge Way. This initially climbs the northern bank before descending back down to the river, but is a delightful woodland path and was very popular so I constantly had to keep my distance from people as made my way along the path until eventually I returned to Lynmouth just as it started raining again. My idea from here was to head up the West Lyn valley, but there seemed to be no other way than to follow the route of the Two Moors Way climbing steeply up the hillside of Lyn Cleave high above the East Lyn River and then once I had climbed all the way up to the top I was able to turn right into the West Lyn valley.

This was very exhausting and very frustrating as I soon started heading back down the hill passing through gorgeous woodland to the West Lyn River at Lyn Bridge where a permissive path continues up the valley through lovely woodland to the village of Barbrook. To get to the campsite I followed the track of a dismantled railway for a short distance before a stretch of road walking brought me back to the Caffyns Farm campsite. The weather had not been too bad on this walk with the rain holding off for most of the day except for a couple of occasions. The scenery was spectacular with a lot of very steep ascents and descents that left me feeling very exhausted at the end of the day, which I feared might be the norm with walking along the North Devon coast, but with scenery as stunning as this I wasn’t going to complain.