So far along the walk I’ve not had any aches and pains. This morning I woke up to find my hands stiff and difficult to move. Strange. And then I remembered just how tightly I had gripped my poles over the last couple of miles of the previous day!

The winds of yesterday had abated and there was a good deal of blue sky overhead. The landscape around Hartland Quay may not have looked as menacing as it did last night but wow, it was beautifully dramatic. I’m really not sure I’ve ever seen anywhere this striking.

Coast at Hartland Quay

Extraordinary rock formation at Hartland Quay

I’d had a very comfortable night at the Hartland Quay Hotel. It was converted from the old customs houses and warehouses in 1886. Today the old stables are The Wreckers Retreat Bar, while the hay and corn lofts are now bedrooms. There’s also a museum telling the tales of traders and smugglers, as well as shipwrecks and lifesavers. I loved the sign for the pub. From 1950, when Disney filmed ‘Treasure Island’ to 2010 with the filming of an episode of ‘Top Gear’, the area has been a superstar location.

The sign for the pub at the hotel

Inevitably, the walk started with a climb. But the views were so spectacular I barely noticed my calves complaining. The first ten minutes of the day are always the worst. At the top there was a grassy area with sheep grazing. And a ruined tower which I can find nothing about, despite my interrogation of Mr Google.

Ruins of Hartland Tower above Warren Cliff

On the walk today the compass pointed south east at one point and I wondered about the sense of following the National Trail, rather than heading due north on roads. But I reminded myself that I’m not doing this walk simply to get there as fast as I can but to enjoy the journey. And besides, if you believe Wikipedia, today’s stretch of the South West Coast Path is supposed to be about the most spectacular. It didn’t disappoint.

Hartland

The path down to Blackpool

Not surprisingly given the amount of rain yesterday, there was a lot of mud to contend with today. It made for a lot of slipping and sliding, making progress slow.

Unavoidable mud in the valley. There’s the sole of a shoe in there .. can you spot it?

Breathtaking coastline

The coastline continued to take my breath away. Not for the first time, I wished Silvia and Doug were with me to give me the full explanation of just how such distinctive rock formation can exist.

Crumbling clifftops

There were continuing signs for crumbling clifftops but then just beyond Blegberry Beach there was a flat section to the walk called Smoothlands. Signs warned about pregnant sheep and young lambs and the need to have dogs on leads. I came across a small clutch of sheep with their lambs, who could barely have been more than a couple of days old.

Twins

Looking back

Remembrance stone

Coming to the corner of one of the fields I was astonished to find a memorial to those who had given their lives in the hospital ship Glenart Castle, which was torpedoed in the early hours of 26th February 1918. The ship lies 20 miles out to sea from the stone. Among the beautiful messages left on the wreaths was this one:

A poignant link between Australia and England

Lighthouse at Hartland Point

A couple of miles beyond Hartland Point I stopped for a much anticipated cream tea. I’d managed to walk through the whole of Cornwall without having one. I was not going to leave Devon making the same mistake. Besides, there’s a major controversy being reported in the Daily Mail (must be true!) at the moment, about the order in which the jam and the clotted cream should be applied to scones.

Cream and jam .. or .. jam and cream?

Verdict?

Quite frankly, to me they tasted just as good no matter which way round the jam and cream was put on!

My destination today was Clovelly. I don’t know the UK Clovelly at all, but I do know the little, sandy beach in Sydney that was named after it in 1907. It knew it would be interesting to check out how alike they are.

Arriving at Clovelly, walking down its knee-crackingly steep single street, I can see some similarity with the Sydney beach. The 1:4 descent for one thing and also the horse-shoe shape of the bay. Clovelly in Oz is affectionately shortened to Cloey, like most names in Australia. I can’t imagine that’s the case here. The slope down the hill passes by mostly wattle and daub cottages and is so steep that wheeled traffic isn’t allowed into the village.

Cobbled Clovelly street

In fact, sledges are used instead for the movement of goods. Very quaint until you start to consider the practicalities of the weekly shop, moving house or even emptying the bin.

Sledges used to bring down the Tesco shopping

Devon Clovelly is exceedingly pretty with its listed buildings and I’m surprised to learn that it’s completely privately owned. For over 800 years only three families have been associated with the ownership of the houses. Number 53 is called ‘Crazy Kate’s’ and I hope this is an English term of affection by the rest of Kate’s family. It’s not difficult to see why the village attracts painters and in fact even the best of the best, JMW Turner painted Clovelly in 1822. The painting’s in Dublin.

Picturesque Clovelly

In ‘A Message from the Sea’ (1892) by Charles Dickens the village of Clovelly is called Steepways: “The village was built sheer up the face of a steep and lofty cliff. There was no road in it, there was no wheeled vehicle in it, there was not a level yard in it … No two houses in the village were alike, in chimney, size, shape, door, window, gable, roof-tree, anything.” Dickens wasn’t the only literary figure associated with Clovelly .. Charles Kingsley also wrote ‘The Water Babies’ while staying here.

However, even pretty places can harbour low life .. think ‘Midsomer Murders’. ‘The History of John Gregg and his Family of Robbers and Murderers’ explains that Clovelly was once home to a tribe of cannibalistic bandits. They were said to have lived in a cave on the coast and murdered over 1000 people. Well, I don’t think so .. even if there is a bay close by called The Devil’s Kitchen.

My bed for the night is at the Red Lion Hotel, right on the little harbour. From my room I can hear the waves and look back up the hill at the houses with the lights on at their windows, like softly glowing yellow slabs of butter. I feel like I’m enveloped in a children’s picture book. I shall sleep soundly.

Black Dog Tails
Meet Kaze. This little star rescued a woman in a coma.