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Hike #12: Hartland Quay

​When we woke up this morning we decided we needed a day of rest and decided that Hartland Quay was the perfect place to get it. So we took the bus to Hartland, which is the closest the bus comes to the quay, and hitched a ride from a wonderful woman named Pat, who is the friend of Merlyn, who is an artist and who I will write an entire page about later.
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We get a ride from Hartland, down the few miles to Hartland Quay, then walk down to the beach.We're walking slowly. We're pretty wiped out. 
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Chunks of earth, sometimes gigundo chunks, like this one here, are always careening down the cliff.
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You can see what the centuries have done to the cliffs--turned everything on its side.
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That's granite. It's heavy. Yet it slid down like chocolate pudding or mushy Jello, There must be forces at work here. Forces, I say.
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The quay is an especially dangerous port of call. It probably made an excellent smuggling landing.

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Hartland Quay is a wild and windy little alcove off the Atlantic. Not many wander way out here. The closest bus stop are miles from the coast; food and drink and accommodations are not easy to get to; and you are miles and years away from the world. It's exhilarating. The air is different.

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Once we get some tea and food in us, we decide to head up the path.

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The path up is miserable-—the kind where you don't talk, you don't look up, you just concentrate, hard, on putting one foot in front of the other and then again and again, until you reach the top.
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Way down there is where we took those beach/granite photos.
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Except for the fact that it's missing the crashing waves, this photo captures the feel of this place. 
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But then comes this. What are the chances of it being something easy?  We decide to keep going to see how bad it is.
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​Might as well go ahead just a bit more to see round the bend, then decide whether to keep gong.
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No way. Neither of us can face it. So we turn back right here on this very spot. 
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​And lie down to rest a bit. Notice I am lying on my raincoat, because even though we chose our spot carefully, there is dried sheep and cattle and goat poop everywhere. I don't want it in my hair.
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Don't be tripping over your feet here. 
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The parking lot. A sight for sore eyes. 
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In September, 2016, we will finish this hike. (Cue Scarlett among the burnt crops, Rhett riding off into the sunset.)
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Saturday 9/21

Land at Heathrow, train to paddington, train to Exeter, train to barnstaple, walk to The Old Vicarage—where we are staying until Thursday.
Have to remember how to read these boards.
Our room.
Love the bath!
First, tea in the garden.
After our tea we walk to the bus station to pick up bus schedules. Hop the 21 to Fremington, which is where we left off last time.
On the path.
Ha! Bob wants “he was a character” on his tombstone.
Fairly uninteresting walk, mostly along marshes.
Security idea for PP@L
We’re on an old railroad line, cute tunnels and all. This looks like a tunnel from the Thomas videos.
Our first pub. This is Instow.
My new favorite drink. It’s cucumber and elderberry and so good I have two. Which means we are finished for the day! We’ll complete this stretch of the walk tomorrow.
We order fish& chips takeaway rather than eating it in the pub because (a) it’s about half the price, and (b) fish & chips taste best outside! Check out the newspaper wrapping!
Not so healthy but it’s the first night and we’re on the coast where the fish is fresh, so.

Sunday, 9/22 Morning

Ate a marvelous breakfast, then walked straight out of Barnstaple to pick up the path heading northwest.
We fill out a little form the night before, choosing our breakfast time and meal items. Plus, there’s a sideboard of granolas, yogurt, fruit, etc.
View from our table.
Walking through Barnstable before hike.
The path. Heading first to Braunton.
The path is flat and fairly unremarkable. Sky is threatening.
We reach Braunton, almost pass right by this, then decide to stop for a short break.
Lovely inside, nicest people.

Sunday, 9/22 Afternoon

We walk Braunton to Saunton, intending to catch bus at Saunton, except I read Saturday’s bus schedule instead of Sunday’s because it’s so easy to do that and we soon find out there is no Sunday bus service in Saunton.
This Is looking back to Braunton. Path leads along this estuary. I think it’s an estuary.
Blackberry bushes are everywhere!
We’re right next to military training grounds.
Lunch break. Sandwiches. Forgot to pack dessert.
Ha! We see this sign as we close the gate after walking across the field.
It’s here that we realize that no bus will be coming. Luckily there’s a golf course right next to the path and we bum a ride to Braunton, which we know for sure has Sunday buses.

Saturday, 9/22 Evening

Our main goal on Sunday every time we come to England is it to make it to a Sunday Roast Dinner. Usually we miss it. Today though we are lucky: we find a good place in Braunton and end the walk on a full-belly note. Total miles today: 11.5.
Roast beef, potato, assorted fresh veggies, gravy, and Yorkshire pudding. Yum.
Waiting in the rain for the bus back to Barnstaple.
The Vicarage at last! We are both exhausted.
This waits for us every afternoon. That’s fresh cream on top.
Washed our clothes though not very thoroughly.
Choose breakfast and go to bed!
  • 2019 Trip Blog
  • Our Hikes
  • Town