St. Catherine's Chapel

At the moment, I'm sitting beneath St. Catherine's Chapel above Abbotsbury. Its a ruin, though remarkably preserved. A pilgrims chapel built in the 1300's. It sits at the top of a pyramidal hill, all alone. There is nothing else on the hill, not even trees.  The inside smells like a man made cave I used to play in as a child, musty and earthy. I noticed the floor was strewn with lavender, drifts of purple line the walls, and the faintest hint of it can be smelled mixed in with the dust and age.

I am always surprised at the austerity of old country Christianity. This chapel alone on this hill, overlooking what is most of the year, a rainy and dangerous coastline. Well maybe that isn't so, but in my imagination I see dark clouds and roiling seas, bitter sea winds beating against it. On the other side, in valley protected from the weather by this hill, is the town.

What kind of god inhabited this chapel. One above you always, looking down coldly. Not a warm and inviting presence,  an austere one that stands firm in the face of nature. There would have been suffering walking unprotected up this hill in a howling wind, and when you reached the stout, but doubtless chilly interior, you might have felt protected, but not comfortable.

More from seaton to seatown

There were some ruined houses on the land fall. And I found some leaves, I tried to show how big they were by putting my head next to them. They looked like they were from the Jurassic, they were the size of wagon wheels. And after I left the forested land fall I got an ice cream. Yum!

Seaton to seatown

I hardly know what to write. The walk was supposed to be 14 miles, according to the literature. I got up this morning to pay for camping and was met, not by the older gentleman (I use that term very loosely) who I met when I arrived the previous evening, but by Tim and Tina, a couple my age. Tina offered me a cup of tea, and while I drank it we talked about their absolute madness for American cowboys. A love which led them to visit Texas the previous year.
While we talked two kids, goat not human, suckled Tina's fingers and tried repeatedly to climb up Tim's shorts. I can only assume it was unsuccessfully attempting to get at his underwear. Goats on TV are always eating underwear off of laundry lines. After my tea, Tina offered to drive me to the top of the first hill. At first I thought, "no, that's cheating" but I eventually relented when I thought of the 14 miles. I thought I could shave off a mile of hill and arrive earlier.
In reality, due to many land falls, the path was rerouted 3 times and 14 miles turned out to be more like 18 miles. Ending in a climb to the top of Golden Cap, the highest point on the south coast. And I ran out of water at the bottom. I really thought I might just stay there, half way up. 620 some vertical feet might seem like small change, but after 17 miles of rugged terrain and uphill walks on single lane roads, it was brutal.
The first 3 hours were spent on a very uneven path through a wood on an old landfall from 1839. It was very craggy as a giant part of the cliff fell to the sea and broke up into giant clods. When it happened, there were still crops on it and the residents went down and harvested their crops off the newly fallen land. Two famous geologists of the day witnessed it happening and it was the first event of its kind to be recorded scientifically. Today it is densely wooded and is a nature reserve. Only the coast path goes through it and there are dangerous fissures and crevices even after so long. While an interesting story, the reality of 3 hours walking was rather boring with no views of cliff or sea and just dense thicket on either side and very strenuous because it was all roots and boulders and many short series of stairs to get over the jagged landfall.
At the end of the day, after Golden Cap, I reached Seatown, which blessedly had a lovely campground and pub right on the beach.
That's me at the top of Golden Cap,  alive and more or less in tact

More from sidmouth to seaton

Just more pictures from yesterday's walk. That butterfly had a big red body the size of a cigarette butt. Weird. And the church was not actually on the coast path, I was lured there by what I thought was live musicians practicing a lively tune overr and over. It turned out to be an ice cream truck. But the church and town were nice anyway.

Sidmouth to seaton

The highlights of this days walk came at the beginning and end. The first being that since I had walked up that brutal hill the night before, I didn't have to do it this morning. I cut down to the coast path from my camp site. And when I got there it was amazing. There was soft short grass and wildflowers covering little hills and depressions, and all this on top of a high cliff overlooking the sea. And the weather was perfect: sunny but not too hot. I wore my shorty shorts and no sunscreen. I bet you know how that turned out.
Then the path entered an area of bushes which were just overhead, meeting and different flowers blooming,  as well as trickling streams. The path was steep here, winding steps down toward the beach below. And I discovered something I hate to admit. All those years I secretly thought my mother was being a bit dramatic always talking about her "bad knees," well, god damn it if I didn't inherit them. I guess either I am getting old or I just never walked down so many hills with a fully loaded pack, sigh, I hate it when I find out I have been being an insufferable brat for years. You'd think I'd be used to it by now.
Finally I reached an all but deserted beach, stretching off in both directions. I rested there looking at the blue water and throwing stones before an equally steep climb up to the next hill. This one was also covered in wildflowers, meadows of them. And I happened to overhear a National Trust worker saying they were going to have to move the coast path back from the cliff cause the cliff is receding,  falling away into the sea below. You can bet a stayed as far from the cliff as possible. One off-cliff adventure was enough for me.
I only had mature cheddar and some almonds when I left camp so I was beside myself with joy when I came to branscombe mouth, and the cafe there. I had cream tea, which as I mentioned before is scones, jam, clotted cream and a pot of tea. It was wonderful, and after I took a little nap on the grass at the edge of the beach.
I really think I am in love with this place. Everywhere I go its like I am walking into my imagination,  or a BBC special (my imagination, in fact, looks very like a BBC program).
All day the people I passed kept saying, "wow, that looks like a heavy load."
"Yep"
From my nap I continued past some impressive cliffs and rock formations to the town of seaton, where I stopped at a pub to have a cider and use the internet. The publican looked like a pirate and jovially harassed all the women who walked by. He let me taste all his ciders for free and gave me a small plastic union jack so I "wouldn't feel left out of the Diamond Jubilee celebration." If you don't know what that is, look it up.
He also found a Asian style straw hat, you know, the ones that are a very wide cone. He put it on and put shot glasses in his eye sockets then walked around saying "you need flied lice?" It was pretty special. But when I left he asked me if I was sure I'd be okay,  with real concern, and told me if I needed anything to just knock at the pub door, he's always there. So friendly.
Now I am in my tent settled down for the evening. For dinner I had tinned oxtail soup I heated with my alcohol stove and unsliced white bread. Again, I must just be starving all the time cause it was fracking delicious.

Extra photos exmouth to sidmouth

Sometimes I think my blogging app ( I just gagged after I wrote that) doesn't like it if there are too many photos, so here are some more from my first day walking.

Exmouth to sidmouth +

I got a bit of a late start because I missed the first train to exmouth from Exeter.  So I didn't arrive in exmouth until 10:30. I walked along the seafront which was quite busy on a Sunday morning. I was sorry I couldn't stop at a jumble sale at the community center but since it was my first day I wanted to get on my way. After walking through town I finally met up with the coast path which traversed the face of a steep hill leading up to the top of the cliff which cuts off the exmouth beach.
The start of the day was gentle up and down over rises and falls of the hilly clifftop. Nothing was open when I left town, storewise, so I stopped at the store in a holiday park to buy my very first 'pasty', curry chicken, and an oat cookie bar called a flapjack. I don't know if it was my hunger but they were the best convenience store food I have ever had.
About half way I came to a town with a lively beach which had large stones instead of sand. After that the terrain was much more strenuous,  the steepest climb being the final one before sidmouth. It was essentially stairs up to a wooded hilltop. The wood was beautiful and smelled amazing. Then a steep decent into the seaside town of sidmouth. 12 miles, and my feet were very tired.
Unfortunately,  I had another 2 miles to go to get to my first night camping place, which turned out to be 2 miles up the steepest hill yet. I saw a woman at the top walking her dog who said, "you just walked up that hill. I saw you at the bottom" she seemed impressed.
The campground was quiet and had a wonderful hot shower. My first night in my new tent was great, well the tent was great, in that it was easy to put up and succeeded in being a tent. I think i didnt inflate my sleeping pad enough, or maybe my poor body was just too tired to sleep well. But either way, I'm ready for what my guidebook describes as "strenuous to severe" terrain.