Day 9 Hartland Quay to Bude (15.5 miles / 25km )

Day 9      Hartland Quay to Bude   (15.5 miles / 25km ) 

Today – and Part B of this incredible section – was the stage of this walk that most people  I have met up to now have talked about the most.  At each accommodation I’ve had  when chatting about the trail everyone  mentions this bit.   The guide book say it is the hardest day of the whole South West Coast Path and with nothing in the way of stops, food or shelter it is the most remote.    But I now realise why this section has the reputation that precedes it – it is just truly spectacular and it is so uniquely dramatic that I think it’s why it is so talked of.   It is an iconic walk in that once done I don’t think you forget ..     It is that magnificent.   And it is truly up there in one of the best days walking I have ever done.   

 I woke up feeling a little bit jumpy as I packed up – I just wanted to get going.  It is said to take 9 hours and with my Anchor Inn packed lunch only I didn’t have food for any longer.

I left the Anchor after a quiet (because I was the only one there ) breakfast .   Special mention to the Anchor Inn egg poacher.   Top 3 position.   It felt like the whole building had a collective hang over after the sea shantiers ended up on the piano for a good old sing along late into the night.   Ed  dropped me at the trail where I had left off yesterday.    He was lovely and quietly reassuring – saying in his opinion its the best days walking on the whole path and also that the wind was an onshore wind.   It would blow me away from cliffs and Ocean and not towards it  – he finished by saying with resoluteness I would not get blown off anything.   I thanked him for this excellent and very kind pep talk because as I got out his warm car it was wet, grey blustery and no one about .  He drove off – I headed up.    

The first section of this walk is a gentle warm up for the first 5km  and it was lovley walking in the mist and rain.   Perfect to get circulation in early morning legs, this beginning is quiet and lush and gives small sneak peaks at the rolling cliff line ahead that stretches on and on topped with English green all but for a thin vein cutting through where the narrow path leads.   

Then it all starts to change at Speke’s Mill Mouth where a crashing waterfall at the base of the valley marks the start of the first ascent.    And from that point it is the famed up and down of the next 18km .  10 dizzying drops ,  then immediate ascents continue on with views that are simply breathtaking.  Each one briefly interspersed with moments of meadow to get your breath back .  l pass inlets at the bottom of towering cliffs where I have decided smugglers have now joined the list of my most respected professions after nures and teachers.  

This walk wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for the smuggler.    It is from them that it owes its origins.   By the early 19th Century smuggling was so rife that in 1822 Her Majesty Coastguard was formed to patrol the entire British coastline on foot.   A coast hugging footpath was created to enable guards on patrol to see into every Smugglers nook and cranny.  Coves, inlets and hidden beaches were watched until smuggling started to decrease.  But the path remained and it became eventually this famous walk trail of magnificent scenery… and wind.   

I lost the battle with trying to control my hair but the wildness was breathtaking.   I loved the variation in the path and especially as a weirdo up-hill walking lover this was as exhilerating as it comes for me.    I saw the couple from yesterday coming from up behind and we actually got to stand and chat a while as yesterday was not for chats.   She said she had lost her insulated seat pad  for keeping you dry when you sit in grass – that it was tied to her pack but blown off on the rock.   I told her it went flying past my face but I coulnt lift a hand to grab it.    There are probably  a coule of sheep perched  on it right now saying “good catch old mate” 

After just having this conversation and on the 4 th ascent a gust of wind lifted off my back pack rain cover and off it flew.   It landed in a patch of dense prickly bushes 20 metres away  I tried but could not get to it without prickles in both my socks and shoes and up my legs .  My first attempt was a mess I had to let it go.    Not worth the prickle to the foot damage.    The weather had taken a turn and was windy but not a bit of rain in sight so I put my foot down to get finished while the weather stayed .   The path crosses over now from Devon to Cornwall .  A new chapter of the walk.

Today has been a tribute to my walking poles – they seemed to be an extesion of my body and consequently are now my favourite body part.   They have been the star of the day.   Sat at dinner tonight after getting in to the room for long hot shower, I ordered a glass of red to celebrate a magic day and realised my fingers were the sore part of me.  Not my legs or my feet.  I’m thinking why on earth do I have sore fingers??   Then i realise its from gripping my poles,  I’ve over gripped!  I’ve got Grippers Hand!  

It has been a special day – I finished walking into Bude totally on air and exhilerated.   I pondered today as I walked and climbed that If a day could sum you up what would that day look like…what you love to do, what you love to see and how you love to feel …   this would be that day for me.   xx

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The beautiful path ahead

There they are .    They deserved to have their moment today.