Day 3 Lynmouth to Combe Martin (13 miles / 21 km)

This day was going to be a back to back testing run for my legs as Day 3 marked the longest day to be spent in Exmoor before ending this chapter.    It ended with me doing 27km and not the 21km I had thought but I was nothing but exhilerated as it was the kind of day you didn’t want to end.   The introduction to this walk has to be one of the greatest starts to a trail I’ve ever done.   It has surpassed anything I could have imagined.  As if to salute my exit from Exmoor the sun broke through an overcast beginning so the day unfolded under a cloudless sky with a slight breeze to just take the edge off the sun.   It was perfect hiking weather.  

I woke in my North Cliff Hotel to an excellent start before I even got up.   I have for years watched with envy my dancer daughter be able to crack her back by lifting one leg lying face down and twisting her waist over to create the best back crack when she needs to stretch.   Try as I might I could never do it myself so this morning at 6am when I naturally woke in the running man position and turned to check the time on my phone I inadverdently did the Charlotte twist and my felt my back crack all the way down .   Oh the feeling!    Last nights  post pack carrying tightness just disappeared and I sprang up feeling like 5 years had just been cracked away!  I went to bed a 52 year old but went down to breakfast 47!     I am going to attempt to recreate it again in the morning – by the time I reach Padstow I should be 21.   

The lovely greeting of the night before continued at the excellent breakfast included situation.      As I was finishing my second pot of tea – knowing another wouldn’t be coming for this whole remote tea-less day, I was handed my North Cliff sandwich.    I could already tell this was going to be a great, great sandwich and I carefully placed it in my back pack protected and ready for the pre fueling before todays biggest climb.   This has been such an excellent stay both the people who run it and its location sitting right on the path with the road in front being the starting point for todays section.  

 After breakfast I went up the hill to explore Lynton before leaving it behind me.   With Lynmouth at the bottom of the cliff and Lynton at the top , the two combine to form the biggest settlement in Exmoor.  It is nicknamed Little Switzerland because of it’s beauty, tranquility and the gradients of the country side around it.    Lovley Lynton was just waking and this beautiful little town,  peaceful  and. full of gorgeous shops, laneways and potted wellies – a lovely alternative to the hanging basket,  in each doorway.   A story book village.    A man walking his black spaniel in a flat cap and tweed coat was whistling what I think was Mull of Kintyre as he smiled and walked past.   This has been song of the day,  I’ve belted it out round every turn.  Such a rousing choice for a whistler,  I could of done with his back up for the final chorus.

I returned to the path and still fresh I started out in long sleeves and zip up to my chin ,   I passed through shaded woods before emerging into the dramatic Valley of Rocks.    Huge rock formations in a combe running parallel with the coast that makes you feel tiny as you walk through it .  As I emerged so did the sun.   I had thrown in a t shirt at the last minute and did a quick change in a field with no one around only a few sheep to heckle me.    It was like this for the remainder of day – the bluest sky with no one to be seen.    I felt I had the whole glorious landscape to myself.     Through the stunning woodland of Woody Bay with the sparkling water appearing through gaps in the trees it was skip along walking – British birds chirping and waves hitting the rocks below being the only sound.    Heading toward the River Heddon I added a bit on by droppping down to see Heddon’s Mouth – where the river meets the water and the rocky beach was full of people lying in the sun eating picnics .  These were only signs of life I saw all day.    

I stopped futher up the river to eat before the steep, rocky up that leads to the trail wrapping the cliff edge .   I found a shaded spot and the ground cover created a moss table cloth for this great, great sandwich.   Thick ham off the bone , salad and lashings of English chutney – chutney!!!!   This one was photo worthy.  

  Up I went like a mountain goat after this and then the most spectacular walking along narrow cliff paths navigating the massive V- shaped valleys forming a line of spectacular cliffs – on this day the views along the entire coast line were stunning.    In the distance I could see the days crowning glory- the highest point of the entire South West Coast Path and the highest sea cliff in England.   Named Great Hangman after local legend states that a sheep stealer was legging it over the hill carrying a stolen ewe slung over his shoulder and when he stopped to rest – (as you would , given that a back pack is hard to get up it never mind a ewe )- the stuggling sheep caused the cord tied around its legs to tighten and slip around the mans neck , strangling him.    I am baffled to think where the man had his head in this scenario but nontheless the name stuck.    Without another story as good they obviously just went with Little Hangman for next towering peak that follows it.     Up I went and my climb kept on heading up on a rocky track to the summit maked by a massive cairn and staggering panoramic views of the whole coastline.   I was feeling all windblown and ecstatic up the top – I popped my own rock on the top of the cairn and headed to the inevitable down.   

It was steep.   I lenghtended my poles as long as they would go, practically my height, and picked and slid my way down.   I was thinking of Miss Lilly in Angelina Ballerina saying to Ang and her mates “Grace and Beauty Girls!!  .   I was the opposite and felt more like a baby giraffe dipped in caramel.  Luckily no one about to witness – where is everyone?!   .   Thank goodness the roller coaster of this landscape means downs lead to ups.    Poles readjusted and the joy that is uphill walking, it was a long long climb.      The rhythm of  feet,  poles and breathing – quietly thanking my Knee surgeon and incline 15 on my treadmill.     

I was rounding the final bend over the moor landscape and up popped Little Hangman.   The waymarker for the trail marks the turn for the descent into Combe Martin but another sign points to the climb to the Little Hangman summit.   I knew what my Dad would say.    The great , great sandwich had been burnt off so I grabbed a protein bar from my pack and took off up – it was a crystal clear day with views forever and I thought how lucky I was to be in this place in these conditions.    These things might never coincide again.   I was rewarded with the most spectacular view …all along the cliff path showing where I’d walked and into the distance to show where I’m going.    Smiling my head off I finished off with the long down hill into Combe Martin.  

 It was now 6pm and too late for a damn scone – it has not escaped me that I have been in Devon for a day and a half now and am yet to have a Devonshire Tea.   I plan to rectify this tomorrow.    Sconeless, I headed straight to my stay for the night  – I couldn’t miss it –  a guest house of the English traditional style, a  bright turquoise entry to create the sea side aesthetic and with bright coloured bunting framing the path to the porch the Channel Guest House was a picture in the sunshine.   Michelle flung open the front door to welcome me in with a beaming smile.       The two of us took an end each of my pack up the  narrow stairs to the 3rd level of this Victorian house to the top single room.    Sea shell wallpaper over my bed, the wi-fi code – Sandy_Toes and when I asked where she recommended I eat she of course said The Dolphin ,  her recommeded dish – the seafood stew!   I did exactly that.  I love a theme!!  

Perfect end to a perfect day of wild , rugged hiking beauty complete with chutney.        

 

                                                      Lovely  Lynton