{"id":1181,"date":"2018-03-14T00:01:01","date_gmt":"2018-03-13T13:01:01","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/julesforth.com\/walkingtheblackdog\/?p=1181"},"modified":"2018-03-15T09:26:16","modified_gmt":"2018-03-14T22:26:16","slug":"day-12","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/julesforth.com\/walkingtheblackdog\/day-12\/","title":{"rendered":"Day 12"},"content":{"rendered":"

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From: <\/strong>Bude to Hartland Quay
\nDistance: <\/strong>15.5m \/ 24.8km
\nCumulated distance: <\/strong>129.2m \/ 232.8km
\nPercentage completed: <\/strong>14.07<\/p>\n

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Today I had to say goodbye to my companions, Alex and Maisie. I had such a lovely time staying with them .. eating Alex\u2019s delicious cooking, enjoying conversations from the serious to the frivolous and revelling in cuddles with Maisie, one of the sweetest and busiest little black dogs I\u2019ve ever met. On Monday during our 13km walk her Fit Bark showed at the end of the day, that she had clocked up an impressive 39km, with her industrious racing around! I doubt there was a rabbit hole that was left unchecked that day!<\/span><\/p>\n

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St Genny’s church<\/p><\/div>\n

On my rest day Alex took me up to see Genny\u2019s Norman Church. We\u2019d been just about able to see it through the mist from the Coast Path on Monday, as we walked to Bude. It has the most enchanting churchyard, with wildflowers and umpteen types of lichen, which are famous for their rarity. Many of the gravestones are covered in its sage green crispiness and there were carpets of primroses, crocus and daffodils. Being so close to the ocean it\u2019s not too surprising that many of the stones are inscribed with anchors, one dedicated to a Swedish captain and his crew, who were all ship-wrecked at Crackington Haven in the nineteenth century. The serenity in the churchyard was palpable.<\/span><\/p>\n

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Lichen-laden gravestones<\/p><\/div>\n

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Crocus<\/p><\/div>\n

For centuries Cornwall’s rugged coastline was a haven for wreckers and smugglers. The darkly secretive activities reached a peak in the 18th century. Ordinary folk and even the clergy, seized the opportunity to supplement their meagre earnings by plundering wrecked ships and smuggling. Although much is made in TV dramas about Cornish Wreckers, there\u2019s no evidence to suggest that men did actually lure ships onto the rocks, using lamps or fires. Given the frequency of ships being wrecked by natural means, there was no need anyway. Most vessels that were wrecked close enough to shore would have not only its cargo removed, but every last saleable item on the ship too, right down to the timber and sails. <\/span><\/p>\n

The reason smuggling reached its peak in the 18th century was simple. The Continental wars meant there was a shortage of able-bodied men for home service and that, together with official corruption meant that smugglers could do pretty much as they liked. Smuggling jobs would be conducted in open defiance of the Law. Kipling\u2019s lyrics in \u2018The Smugglers\u2019 Song\u2019 goes like this: \u2018Them that ask no questions isn’t told a lie. Watch the wall, my darling, while the gentlemen go by\u2019. It alludes to the fact that smugglers got the locals to turn away from passing looters so that they could truthfully say if questioned by the Law, that they \u2018didn\u2019t know nuffink\u2019.<\/span><\/p>\n

My rest day was a beautiful sunny day. We ate outside at the pub and there was a glorious sunset to end the day.<\/p>\n

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Crackington Haven at sunset<\/p><\/div>\n

Today however, was a whole different story. Gales and lashing rain greeted me as my walk got underway from Bude. I put on all my wet weather gear and prepared to do battle.<\/p>\n

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No takers for the beach huts today ..<\/p><\/div>\n

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.. nor the outdoor ocean pool<\/p><\/div>\n

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Wet stone beaches<\/p><\/div>\n

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Very evident Crackington Formation<\/p><\/div>\n

Today I reached my first significant milestone as I crossed counties, from Cornwall into Devon. It felt exciting to have made such progress. Somewhere I read that Devon \u2018is a delicious county, benignly bringing joy to all those who live in it, visit it or retire to it. It has cider, smugglers, clotted cream, coast on two sides \u2026 what\u2019s not to like? It\u2019s a softer version of Cornwall\u2019.<\/span><\/p>\n

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Leaving the Cornish chough for Devon’s galleon<\/p><\/div>\n

I did not see this soft side today. I was batted from pillar to post as I tried to make my way along the South West Coast Path, not meeting a single other person all day. Once I arrived at the turn off for Morwenstow, I decided enough was enough and headed inland to the 13th century Bush Inn www.thebushinnmorwenstow.com<\/a>. I could not have had a warmer welcome as I bowled in, looking like a drowned rat. The ladies of Bush Inn urged me to the open fire, with wonderful words of praise and encouragement for my endeavour. They donated generously to SANE and then introduced me to their sweetest little pup .. Treacle. She’s a 12 week old black and tan miniature dachshund. Otto, you would adore her!<\/span><\/p>\n

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Cuddles with Treacle<\/p><\/div>\n

Lunch was delicious and I was reluctant to leave the cosy fireside for the driving rain and gusting wind outside .. but there was no choice but to go on, so that I could get to my bed for the night in Hartland Quay. I decided to leave the Coast Path and make my way using various lanes and inland footpaths. It was a rewarding decision as I came to walk through Marsland Valley, a pocket of land that nestles in a steep-sided valley on the border between Devon and Cornwall. It’s full of gnarled, twisted oaks .. home to a plethora of birds and wild animals. Christopher Cadbury of the big chocolate family, bought the land to save it as a refuge for wildlife. After days of coastal walking it felt almost mystical to be walking in the woodland.<\/p>\n

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Lichen clad walls ..<\/p><\/div>\n

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.. and primroses clinging to wooded banks<\/p><\/div>\n

After the quiet interlude in the woods it was time to return to the Coast Path, for the last three miles of the day. And that’s where I made my mistake. The South West Coast Path signposted that I should go into the valley, which was so muddy I could see it taking me till Christmas to get there. Instead I chose the ‘Cliff Path Footpath’, which would take me to Hartland Quay directly.<\/p>\n

I took few photos of this stretch. I was convinced that my phone would be blown away .. along with me. When I was planning this walk last year, one of the hopes I had for it was that it would force me to dig deep. Well, on day twelve it certainly did. I found myself on a knife-edge cliff, up high with a slippery path and gusting gale winds. I was truly terrified .. heart beating sixteen to the dozen, forced to talk out loud to myself so that I would get safely to the other side. Sitting in the bar writing this it all feels rather surreal but I can also say that it puts a smile on my face to know that I did it.<\/p>\n

The landscape around Hartland Quay is staggeringly dramatic. I wish I could show you photos of it. But my phone ran out of juice and the thought of stopping in the wind and rain to plug it in to my portable charger would have been just .. silly. I’ll take more tomorrow morning when I’ve had a good night’s sleep.<\/p>\n

A million thanks to all of you lovely subscribers who have been sending through such encouraging messages .. they really do the trick! x<\/p>\n

Black Dog Tails<\/strong>
\nLittle Tol Taylor was supported through his leukaemia by Atraya, the gentle giant Newfoundland.<\/span><\/p>\n

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When I was planning this walk last year, one of the hopes I had for it was that it would force me to dig deep. Well ..<\/p>\n

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