It took Mick and I three more days to reach Minehead and the end of the Southwest Coastal path. Day 16 we walked from Morthoe to Coombe Martin across moorland, along the coast of Exmoor national park and up Great Hangman, the highest point along the coastal path. Dramatic high cliffs with wooded valleys, contrasting the low vegetation of heather and moorland grasses. Scenery worthy of romantic novels such as Lorna Doone.
Now, Mick initially took issue at the (in his words) "wiggly monkey" nature of the coastal path. After purchasing an OS map, he began to plot short cuts, cutting off the headlands and potentially miles from the route. However after I suggested that this was the whole point of the path, he quickly succumbed to the inevitable wigglyness and the sublime nature of the path.
Walking with Mick is a different experience again. He brings familiarity and therefore a sense of security. I have to admit that although I enjoy the excitement of the unknown, I was happy to take a back seat, enjoy Micks company and his marvelously quirky sense of humor.
Unlike Mike (it seems as though you have to be named Michael to walk with me) he doesn't keep me entertained with constant chatter but when he does say something it is invariably hilarious. His brain works in mysterious ways, constantly making the most obscure associations, voicing them with impeccable timing and perverse use of words and often breaking out in a perfect song to match the occasion. He really does make me laugh.
Day 17 we walked from Coombe Martin to Lynton across more cliffs, moorland, wild grazing ponies and ended up at a brilliant bed and breakfast. Brilliant because all the rest of them were full and brilliant because they provided a pot if tea with a plate full of half covered chocolate digestives and Ginger nuts.
Day 18 we walked to Porlock Weir. After more cliffs and such we entered the ancient woodlands of Culbone. We seemed to walk for miles, sheltered by it's ancient oaks, and cooled by the dampness and gentle water falls that trickled down into the sea.
These woods led us to the most beautiful church I have ever seen. In fact my words cannot adequately describe the beauty of this church, said to be the smallest intact parish in the country. The pews seat only 33 worshipers and services are still regularly held by candle light. You have to sit in it, touch it, feel it's coolness, smell it and hear it's silence to fully appreciate and experience this little church.
As with most churches, a centuries old, sacred yew tree, grows in the church yard, signifying that it was once a place of pagan worship. Tilted graves lie under the tree, names obscured by time and creeping mosses but left forever to sit amongst the buttercups, daisies and unkempt grasses of Culbone church. Timeless, spiritual and beautiful.
Once in Porlock, after having walked 14 miles or so we decided to take a bus to Minehead. It was only 5 miles but apparently a little boring and anyway the bus was waiting there at the bus stop. We then waited patiently for the missing driver. Obligingly, the missing driver, followed by a bunch of middle aged tipsy women piled out if the pub opposite and loudly boarded our bus. We then experienced a very interesting drive down the skinny lane to Minehead. We squeezed past cars attempting to travel in the other direction as the driver and the bunch of tipsy women, affectionately swore and banged on the windows at the terrified "bloody tourists" stuck between the bus and hedgerows.
We are now in Minehead, a seaside town, home to Butlins (a bizarre part of British culture that I will expand upon later) and a major metropolis to us. It also has a curry house.
I think I have walked about 200 miles now but I will confirm that at a later date when I have added it all up.
Off for a curry now, to celebrate and to stuff my face with popodums, veggie masala, aloo gobi (spellings?) naan breads, big beers........
Oh, and just to let you know that I am extremely happy :)
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Location:Kerry St,Montgomery,United Kingdom
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