Day 18 - Withypool to Simonsbath, Sat. 20th Sept.

Last night I had a good shin beef casserole with mini roast vegetables at the Royal Oak - chef knew what he was doing.

Breakfast not until 8:30, but it didn't matter, I had only seven miles to do with the pleasant knowledge that I was already booked into the Exmoor Forest hotel at Simonsbath.

I dawdled all the way. A distant mist prevailed so views were restricted, but atmosphere enhanced. I was soon up onto what they call a moor around here, all very pleasant but no relation to Ilkley or Goathland. Here it is largely reeds, gorse, bracken and a bit of heather, and because of its suitability for grazing animals, close cropped grass. Ponies, cows, and sheep, and their leavings were the order of the day.

A long length of the path was well evident but only about eight inches wide, and occasionally disappearing. I lost it once and ended up about fifty yards off. Even with map, gps and compass it was quite difficult to get back again across the rough terrain - you can be only ten or fifteen feet away without being able to see it.

Dropping down off the moor the attractive River Barle came into view and was then followed into Simonsbath on good paths.

Once again I have ordered a packed lunch in lieu of breakfast to be given to me tonight and I aim to get away for 7:00 am to do the last stint to Lynmouth. Getting home may be a challenge, there is no railway, and it being Sunday not much in the way of a bus. I may resort to hitch-hiking to get me to a railway station. We shall see.




A different take on dry stone walling


Very steep - there's lots of this on the TMW





Typical vegetation on the moor. The path was more established here



Typical narrow path - lose it at your peril


River Barle


Close up with the Barle


A bit of the orange string I keep moaning about. Here the string was the only thing holding the gate post up. When I untied it the gate post just fell over


I sat here in peace for a while, then after I had things to myself all morning various parties seemed to appear from nowhere and so it continued into Simonsbath


My bed at the Exmoor Forest hotel - you could have a game of tennis if you could stand up


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Day 17 - Witheridge to Withypool, Fri. 19th Sept.

Was the early start a good idea?. I left The Mitre after battling with the mighty front door again at 6:00 am. It was dark. I was sporting my head torch, something I have hardly ever done before. The brightness of the screen on the iPhone mapping killed my night vision. Consequently I turned up a track leaving the village parallel to my route and wasted ten minutes or so backtracking. Stumbling across a sort of path over a ploughed field, but feeling I was making some effort at moving quickly a young girl with dog came skipping past and vanished into the distance. Fortunately it became lighter, and then I was into a long stretch of road where I really did march.

A lot of the route was on roads, but the paths were mainly on ancient bridle ways in sunken lanes, or following higher ground in other places - the sort of tracks where I was imagining the possibility of finding a medieval hoard with a metal detector. That was all a lot better than yesterday's contrived paths round fields.

Halfway through the morning light rain started and persisted until mid afternoon. At one point I sheltered, munched and regrouped in the church at West Anstey (churches offer a good facility for weary weather stricken backpackers).

I arrived at the tea shop in Withypool nine and a half hours after starting out this morning. The book says it is twenty two miles, but I have my doubts. I intend to measure when I get back home.

Tomorrow I could walk the book stated nineteen miles to the finish at Lynmouth, but have opted to walk only seven miles to Simonsbath where I have already booked in courtesy of the landlord here at the Royal Oak. The forecast is better and I prefer to enjoy two shorter days rather than have another big slog.


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Day 16 - Morchard Bishop to Witheridge, Thurs. 18th Sept.

I had a monster meal at the London Inn last night with quantities that would defy anybody and I had to leave quite a lot. The pub was run by mum, Vera behind the bar, and daughter Sarah, on cooks. There was lots of family banter and village gossip about, and later I got the full thing from Vera about when she was a lass and they walked three miles each way to school, and how she had to milk the cows before setting off etc., etc.

By the time I left the village it was 9:00 am. I was lethargic and still weary from yesterday's efforts and walked very slowly the eight miles to Witheridge - 5.5 hours for eight miles. The walking was dreary, much on agricultural, lumpy, cow fields, and hate of hates TRACTOR TRACKS (like walking endlessly over buckled corrugated iron). There were also many bad gates lashed up with orange string, almost impossible to untie; once the indispensable Swiss Army knife was put to use. Another time the farmer had destroyed the TWM signpost with his hedge cutting leading me to a false trail down a steep, lumpy grass hill and back again. There was nothing to note of the scenery and you could have been anywhere in the country. I hope things will improve when I hit Exmoor.

I am booked in at The Mitre. Witheridge is an attractive, quintessential English village.

Got showered then set off for village. My pub closed, but door on latch, but I couldn't open it (massive door). Knocked on all locked doors in hall. No response. Returned to room where I had a faint Vodafone signal armed with pub visiting card and phone number. Tried number, " this number not yet issued".

Went back down, heaved on mighty door again and it suddenly came open nearly knocking me over.

At the village tea shop I researched logistics for tomorrow, and to be sure of accommodation I will have to walk to Withypool. 22 miles!

I had no signal but the kind lady at the tea shop let me use her landline and I am booked in at The Royal Oak. I have arranged for a packed breakfast which I will get tonight and I aim to set off early in the morning. This afternoon it is incredibly hot in the village.




The balcony path below Castle Drago yesterday


Castle Drago under restoration wraps


From Sharp Tor on the same path


One of the better bits of today's walk


The same farm where the farmer had trashed the TWM sign and tied up gates with orange string. Goodness knows what he had been up to excavating this eyesore



This one just to show some boring, lumpy field scenery. You readers have got to suffer too


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Day 15 - Chagford to Morchard Bishop - Wdnesday

Breakfast was at 8:00 and I had a most interesting conversation with John who took over this pub, The Chagford Inn last January and is in the process of fully refurbishing, and already providing interesting food way beyond the average pub grub. John has cycled from LA New York dipping down into the south. That was a three month trip. He is also a keen photographer. I could have spent a long time chatting there, but I had a twenty mile day in front of me.

Pleasant riverside and old woods walking took me onto a fabulous balcony path running under the ramparts of Drago Castle ( the story of its ongoing overhaul is worth looking at - I'm sure Google will provide. There was a good tv documentary about it sometime ago).

After leaving the northern boundary of Dartmoor Nat. Park the quality of the walking degenerated into farmers' fields, nettles, stiles, and the like. Also the path now became comprehensively waymarked.

I walked hard, by my standards all day but I was well done for during the last five miles.

At the village shop I enquired about b and bs. There was nobody home at one, but Mrs Snell at Shippens had room. I misunderstood the directions turning right from the shop and walked down one fork of the steep village street and back up the other adding another half mile to my total, then returning to the shop for more directions. When I make a route mistake I tend to march hard to redeem myself, and so I did on my second attempt.

Mrs Snell is a great elderly lady, sharp with her repartee and a good conversationalist. The house is a large converted barn completed several years ago - her husband died shortly after completion, "...he wasn't a lot of help to me". After a welcoming tea and cake I showered and went back up the hill to the London Inn. Mrs S had booked a table for me, but when I entered I was already famous having been seen doing my redeeming route march past the pub earlier on the way to Mrs Snell's - they were all impressed. I could just as easily have fallen over with exhaustion when I marched past them.


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Day 14 - Widdecombe to Chagford - Tuesday 16th Sept.

Venton Farm at Widdecombe was an excellent B and B; a sixteenth century farmhouse still run as a working farm, all cosy and comfortable.

A climb up onto the ridge was chilly and then I was in mist on the tops for a while but the sun appeared and there were miles of enjoyable ridge walking.

I came across the massive stone circle marked as Grimspound on the map. A party of school children were being shown around and I took a quick snap. I was then questioned politely by one of the leaders who wanted assurance that I wasn't going to publish the pic. I never thought about the implications thinking it would make an interesting point for various people who read this blog who have an interest in education. What a sad changed world we live in. I have deleted the pic.

The TMW is proving to be a classic. It would suit someone who is fed up with trudging round the perimeters of farmers' fields but doesn't want the rigours of a full high level mountain thrash, but I would stress the need for competence with map and compass and the advisability of having gps ( I know there are some who would disagree with the latter point).

There were not many people on the path today, but three of the four pubs in Chagford were without vacancies, and the fourth is a £100 a night job and I didn't enquire there.

Fortunately John at the The Chagford Inn who was in the middle of having all his rooms refurbished let me have a half finished room, and here I am now with full wi-fi, and just had a hot shower.





I don't know why this wall was so massive. It was still under construction


Typical Dartmoor ridge walking - easy under foot and great views


More heather and gorse. Can't resist it.


Zoom to ponies on summit


They were still there when I arrived. Hameldown Tor, complete with trig


The massive stone circle - Grimspound




Hookney Tor


Another take on drystone walling. Single thickness of stones, daylight can be seen through


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Photos for day 13 - Holne to Widdecombe

The Shepherd's hut, and inside below





River Dart, easy walking


Heather and gorse




I wonder which is oldest, cross or tree?


Zoom to a huge distant Tor. Will need to research name


The Rugglestone Inn where I ate - "...we aim to stay in the past as long as possible"


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Day 13 - Holne to Widdecombe - Monday 15th Sept.

First of all I forgot to mention yesterday that all morning and early afternoon the walk across the moor was in cloud/mist/fog or whatever you want to call it and visibility ranged between half a mile and fifty yards which better explains my travails with navigation.

I re-read the TMW guide and interestingly I quote, "...the open moorland of Dartmoor and Exmoor is NOT signposted or way marked. Not only is marking alien to wild landscape, but it destroys the experience of being in remote country". I am all for that but wish I had read that bit before embarking on day one of the TMW.

The Shepherd's Hut was ok but without mains electric pretty basic, and if it had been much colder that could have been a problem. Anyway it was better than the tent.

When I re-conceived this walk for now, i.e. later in the year, I had visions of huge expanses of purple heather on Dartmoor, and purple heather for me is like listening to a world class soprano having a memorable performance for others, although the latter wouldn't go amiss anyway.

Well, the heather has gone over, but some of it remains, but glory of glories a fiendishly deep yellow gorse over massive expanses has taken over and bits of the heather remain intermingled. It would be worth anybody's effort to get out and have a look.

Today I have walked through enchanting old deciduous woodland, often accompanied by the River Dart, which has water coloured like a good bitter, but so clear you can see to the bottom even at surprising depths, and offering the greatest temptation to taking dip one is ever likely to encounter, and I actually observed a couple doing just that.

After that the path climbed through jungle bracken to a grey stark tor and then developed into a high level track constructed for a conceited aristocrat to entertain his guests with dramatic views looking a long way down into heavily wooded valleys, which hinted at some secret river running through.

The village of Ponsworthy, enchanting as it was, offered no refreshment, but I chatted with a gent who had lived there since 1949 and we recalled bad winters of 1947 and nineteen sixty something and his running of a café on the south coast for eighteen years. The next village of Jordan had nothing to offer other than its unusual name.

Widdecombe is a thriving tourist centre with the National Trust running a shop and TI centre rolled into one. They found me a B and B about half a mile from the village, but with the Rugglestone Inn half way. I left my sack at the B and B and wandered back to the village for tea in the café booking a table for 6:30 on the way, and here I am now after meeting the challenge of a superb steak and Stilton pie. I enquired if they had wi-fi and the reply, " sorry, no, we try to keep as much in the past as possible".

By the way, I'm being haunted by a guy on this walk with a funny hat.

Could not post last night. Can't reply to comments easily. Will catch up later. This coming from Hameldown Beacon (517m) in the mist if it goes - 10.00 am Tuesday.




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