She Hikes The South West Coast Path

Day 1: The journey down

Perhaps the strangest way I’ve ever spent a birthday: six hours of coaches to get me down to Minehead.

I spent much of the evening thinking “oooh, it’s a bit chilly, and this time tomorrow I’ll be in a tent”. Ate fish and chips in a park as preparation for living outside for the coming days.

Day 2: Minehead to Porlock

Ascent: 1063ft Descent: 984ft

As soon as I’d started (having hung around slightly awkwardly at the SWCP monument waiting for a passer-by to take my photo!) I felt ridiculously excited and sprung off far too speedily, practically skipping up the hill out of Minehead. Before too long, I realised there was going to be a lot of uphill in the coming days, and perhaps needed to pace myself.

The walk across to Porlock involved a fair bit of gorse, a few cows, and remarkably few people. Glorious.

The first campsite was an agonising mile long walk off the coast path, but really well set up when I got there, and friendly fellow campers (although no one else actually foolish enough to be in a tent, all motorhomes/campervans). One man came over to compliment me on my “tent erection” (his actual words) and I felt smug at having made it look such a slick procedure.

My campsite meals were not exactly the most appetising affairs, although everything tends to taste significantly better when eaten outside after a long day stomping. My light-to-carry night time menu was some form of pasta or noodles, accompanied by a hot chocolate and marshmallows for pudding!

What followed shall henceforth be known as the GRIM NIGHT.

That first night was brutally cold and I was honestly fearful I might have to call off the rest of the week, or at least book in to B&Bs. However, thanks to some expert googling from an amazing friend, a solution appeared that would rescue all further nights: THE CROTCH BOTTLE. We’ll come on to that.

The following formed my night time attire:

A pair of tights

Two pairs of socks

Thermal long Johns

Fleece leggings

Waterproof trousers

Thermal long sleeved top

T-shirt

Jumper

Waterproof top

Buff

Wooly hat

Gloves

Once all of that was on, I’d climb into my emergency foil blanket and then into my sleeping bag. Cozy!

Day 3: Porlock to Lynmouth

Ascent: 2854ft Descent: 2477ft

This day was most definitely Type 2 fun.

Looking back on it now, I’m so overly nostalgic for it. Despite being acutely aware that much of the day itself was spent huffing and puffing, wanting to cry when I turned a corner to see YET MORE HILL and bemoaning coast path diversions due to fallen trees, there was something about how remote this day felt that really captured everything I’d hope this trip would entail.

I walked for 7 hours that day and passed four other people! It was bliss. My own private coast path.

The final descent into Lynmouth felt like it might never end, but eventually made it to yet another campsite for the night.

More noodles, more hot chocolate, the cycle repeats.

And so…on to the crotch bottle!

A surprisingly simple idea, but one that had never crossed my mind. My two 1L drinking bottles were filled with the hottest water I could find at the washing up station and shoved down in my sleeping bag. It was absolute heaven. Until they’d inevitably go cold a few hours later and I’d have to crawl out the tent at 1am and 4am to repeat the process!

Day 4: Lynmouth to Combe Martin

Ascent: 2434ft Descent: 2874ft

The first of my two favourite days (see also: Day 6). Whether it was the knowledge that I would be sleeping in a bed at the end of it, or the simply stunningly remote and dramatic scenery, I’m not quite sure.

This day did, however, make me acutely aware of the unreliability of some of the coast path mileage signs. At Heddon’s Mouth, having dipped down into the valley to cross the river, I was met by a sign declaring “Combe Martin 8.5 miles”. Twelve steps later, across the other side of the bridge, “Combe Martin 7 miles”. It then became something of a game I’d play when approaching a sign, to guess how many miles it would say. Combe Martin remained 4.5 miles away for a very long time!

All jokes aside, however, the waymarkers were incredibly well maintained and frequent so I never had any fear of taking the wrong fork in the path. The little acorn sign was littered everywhere along the way.

Climbing down into Combe Martin, I think I was almost delirious. Poor Christopher, the friendly B&B owner, who had to listen to my euphoric telling of the day’s walking when I arrived at Newberry Beach Lodge. My welcome there was incredibly warm.

Day 5: Rest Day

Crosswords, reading, sea glass hunting, lying horizontal on a bed. This day was bliss.

Day 6: Combe Martin to Morthoe

Ascent: 2480ft Descent: 2175ft

You’ve got the idea by now. There was a lot of walking. This shall go down in my memory as the day the toenails died. But you don’t need to hear too much about that. So instead, I’ll just let you enjoy some photos. This stretch was stunning.

And that evening, I was treated to just the most incredible sunset.

Day 7: Morthoe to Braunton

Ascent: 512ft Descent: 823ft

My least favourite day, if I’m honest. It involved a lot of walking through sand dunes. Lugging my pack and in walking boots. And it was incredibly airless, the refreshing coastal breeze a thing of the past.

Treated myself to a pasty for lunch, however. Also got to my campsite fairly early so was able to enjoy sitting in my tent doing endless sudokus (the one book I’d allowed myself to pack was a little pocket book of sudoku, deeming it lightweight enough to make the cut!). As ever, hunkered down for the night around 8pm, before the sun had even set.

Day 8: Braunton to Barnstaple

Ascent: 72ft Descent: 92ft

A delightfully flat way to finish Leg 1, walking along the estuary cycle path into Barnstaple. By this stage, I don’t think I believed I’d ever make it to Barnstaple, the buildings seemed to be glistening in the distance and never creeping closer.

But eventually, it was there….the bridge. I knew the bridge meant the end. Or at least, a bridge. Turned out I’d got the wrong one! But a few steps later, and I was done. 68 miles completed.

The amazing Jane at No.22 Bed and Breakfast allowed me to check in early. And the rest of the day can simply be summed up by these two photos:

And so, my first leg is complete. What have I learned? So so much. I am pleased and proud that all my planning paid off. Glad I packed blister plasters. And eternally grateful for my introduction to crotch bottles!