{"id":1198,"date":"2018-03-15T00:01:57","date_gmt":"2018-03-14T13:01:57","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/julesforth.com\/walkingtheblackdog\/?p=1198"},"modified":"2018-03-18T08:17:34","modified_gmt":"2018-03-17T21:17:34","slug":"day-14","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/julesforth.com\/walkingtheblackdog\/day-14\/","title":{"rendered":"Day 14"},"content":{"rendered":"

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From: <\/strong>Clovelly to Westward Ho!
\nDistance: <\/strong>11.5m \/ 18.4km
\nCumulated distance: <\/strong>168.2m \/ 270.6
\nPercentage completed: <\/strong>16.36<\/p>\n

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Gentle Readers .. today’s instalment will be a little delayed! I had the biggest and best surprise today when my husband, Patrick arrived from Sydney out of the blue to surprise me! More tomorrow! x<\/p>\n

Yesterday started with a beautiful sunrise over the harbour at Clovelly. It woke me up at 6.15 as I’d left the curtains undrawn.<\/p>\n

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View from one window ..<\/p><\/div>\n

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.. view from the other<\/p><\/div>\n

As I looked down below\u00a0 to the pier, I watched a local man empty the cinders from his bucket into the sea. And then half an or so later I noticed the smoke rising from his cottage, as his fire took light.<\/p>\n

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Cinders in to the sea ..<\/p><\/div>\n

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.. smoke rising from the freshly lit fire<\/p><\/div>\n

The Red Lion Hotel treated me very well and it was difficult to leave such hospitality. And it also took me a while to make my way up The Cobbles, as photo opportunity after photo opportunity presented itself.<\/p>\n

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Walking up The Cobbles<\/p><\/div>\n

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Decorative doorways<\/p><\/div>\n

At the top of the hill I looked back down to see the sun lighting up the meadow of daffodils in the pretty garden of remembrance.<\/p>\n

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Remembrance memorial in Clovelly<\/p><\/div>\n

Once on the cliff tops I got to walk along The Hobby Drive. This pretty stretch which also has the advantage for my calves of being flat, was created during the Romantic Movement by residents of Clovelly, at the beginning of the 19th century. It was originally intended as a scenic carriage drive stretching 3 miles and to run beneath the leafy canopy of ancient trees. Not so many leaves today as spring is yet to arrive but I can imagine how picturesque it can be once winter has passed. It feels somehow comforting today to be surrounded by trees, rather than on the bare and exposed cliff tops.<\/span><\/p>\n

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Looking down to Clovelly from The Hobby<\/p><\/div>\n

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Ancient trees along Hobby Drive<\/p><\/div>\n

The walking was easy .. level and dry and I made quick progress. So much so that when I reached Buck Mills I even turned inland for a mile to buy a sandwich. The postie came by to empty the postbox as I was munching my lunch. We got into conversation about long distance walks, of which he was also a fan. He ended up generously donating a fiver.<\/p>\n

There were many woods to walk through .. Barton Wood, Kievell’s Wood and Worthygate Wood. The banks were thick with bluebell plants, yet to bloom. And then on to soft meadows.<\/p>\n

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Soft Devon fields<\/p><\/div>\n

Thinking that I was at least half way through my walk I almost sauntered for a while, enjoying the birdsong. And then looking at the map, I realised that there were many ups and downs on the rest of the way to Westward Ho! The beach below looked flat and tempting. However, a closer look revealed that it was covered in large, irregularly shaped pebbles .. perfect opportunity for a twisted ankle or two, so I kept to the Path. Peppercombe Castle proved to be just a pile of stones along the way and not nearly as interesting as its name would suggest.<\/span><\/p>\n

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Stone beaches<\/p><\/div>\n

And then the Path became increasingly more demanding. Lots and lots of mud and many, many stairs. As time past I realised I was barely making a mile an hour, it was so slippery with the mud on steep inclines. My spirits were lifted with the sight of seals swimming in the swells below and I smiled at the craziness of a couple of surfers riding the waves.<\/p>\n

Time wore on and I started to become concerned at my slow rate of progress. The weather closed in and the rain started to fall. It was not at all pleasant. For the first time on the walk I felt fed up with the constant ups and downs. No sooner did I get to the top of a flight of stairs than I had to slide down the other side, with very little control. My childhood self would have just sat down and slid down but all I could see were the dangers of doing that. I was cross with myself for not reading the map correctly and leaving such limited time to get to Westward Ho!<\/p>\n

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Weather closing in<\/p><\/div>\n

There was evidence of the damage that Storm Emma had recently wreaked when I got to the bottom of a particularly steep hill: a broken bridge. The planks of wood were scattered all over the beach. It took me an age to negotiate the stones and gushing stream. As I climbed up from the beach I met another walker, who jested about me just having walked the plank! He agreed that there were just three miles to walk\/climb\/scramble\/slip before reaching my stop but warned that there was a good deal of slipperiness to come.<\/p>\n

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Broken bridge<\/p><\/div>\n

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Very wet and very tired<\/p><\/div>\n

And then the light started to fail. I can’t deny that the sunset was beautiful and I did take a few snaps .. but I was getting ready to get my head torch out of my rucksack, as each down was followed by yet another up.<\/p>\n

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Back towards Clovelly<\/p><\/div>\n

At 7 o’clock my phone rang and I knew by the barking ring tone that it was Patrick. It was so good to hear his voice and be able to whinge to him about the interminable ups and downs and the slipperiness that was making my progress glacially slow. He was reassurance itself. I knew that he was at the airport in Frankfurt about to board his flight for Sydney, so I said I’d try to speed up and get to the town before he left. Somehow I found a second wind and eventually walked into the outskirts of Westward Ho!\u00a0After the cuteness of Clovelly and with the distinction of having an exclamation mark at the end of its name, I thought Westward Ho! would be much more picturesque and appealing than it turned out to be. In fact the first building I came to was a rather menacing derelict house, which at dusk took on an almost surreal tone.<\/span><\/p>\n

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Welcome to Westward Ho!<\/p><\/div>\n

I phoned Patrick’s number, hoping I’d reach him before he boarded. I was in luck. I asked him to look at my itinerary and remind me of the name of the place I was booked in for the night .. it was on my pc but the thought of dragging it out of my pack at this stage, in the rain, was all too much. He comfortingly told me I only had a ten minute walk before I could relax and have a hot bath.<\/p>\n

And then, as I was walking down the road, looking like a drowned rat, a familiar-looking man started coming towards me. He had to ask me, ‘Is this the way to John o’Groats?’ before I realised .. open-mouthed .. that it was indeed my husband!! I have never, ever been so wonderfully, so blissfully, so happily surprised in all my life!<\/p>\n

Black Dog Tails<\/strong>
\nThis is Windy with his 22 year old bomb detect handler in Afghanistan.<\/span><\/p>\n

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Gentle Readers .. today’s instalment will be a little delayed!<\/p>\n

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