There were no coco-pops available at breakfast. This came as a welcome relief, as I had far too many yesterday (you will have to read the last blog to have any idea what I’m on about!). It was a good breakfast, and as I was sat down bang on 7:30 when it started, I got the best choice before the coach load of tourists*, hit the the hot and cold self service buffets. [*I was going to call them pensioners, but realise I am on very shaky ground.] I got away at 8:15, and for some reason I thought I’d knock out the 28 km by just after lunch. I, or at least part of me, thought it would be an easy day! The coast path followed the road outside the hotel, up a hill until it diverted into a nice park, with views over Paignton.

Dropping down to beach level, and Paignton looks like a nice ordinary town. I passed four or five swimmers enjoying a dip, and overheard them saying, that “because Roger wasn’t there they wouldn’t have to swim a mile, and could just enjoy themselves”, that’s the sort of dedication I admire (and sorry Roger if you read this – it needed to be said, haha).

The seafront looks a bit run down, but this is mainly due to a sea defence wall being built along it. It will completely change to outlook on the beach, but I suppose no sea wall would completely change the future of the town. The pier looks well used, and un-usually is up some steps to get to it, I guess that’s an indication of how low this beach is.

Paignton sea front is split in two with a small headland that rises up from a nice looking harbour, and seems to have most of the older houses safely out of the flood zone. All around are lots of palm trees and exotic plants, which is where this area, Torbay, gets its nickname of the English Riviera. It has a particularly good climate, which I think must be due to the fact the bay faces east, so is sheltered from the worst of the Atlantic, but at the same time gets the best of the jet stream.

There are more beaches on the far side of the headland, including a reminder of a previous visit to Paignton. I came here years ago with friends to go water skiing (or more accurately, I was briefly dragged behind a boat), and after a day on the boat we stopped at the water park on the sea front. We went in full geared up in wet-suits, which was odd amongst all the little kids, but made some of the slides easier, in terms of protection and some harder. On the completely vertical slide, my wet-suit was too grippy on the slide, and I had to wriggle nervously further and further over the edge of the sheer drop. I soon got going, almost free falling, this is where the force of the water went up one of the legs of my wet-suit, and burst the knee open from the inside. There had been a small defect from using it for canoeing, but it was completely wrecked after one slide (if I recall, it became a “shorty” wet suit with a pair of scissors).

The path from Paignton to Brixham was really nice, with lots of little bays. The beach and bay of Broadsands looked particularly nice with just enough services, a car park and a cafe, while further a Elbury Cove had a really remote feel and a good pebble beach. I’d really recommend it as a walk, it crosses the coves at sea level, and just goes high enough through the trees for it not to feel like too much of an ordeal. You could always get the ferry back – I’d noticed there is a ferry link between Torquay, Paington and Brixham – this has added a further quandary to yesterdays question of “when is a ferry OK”. These are clearly not, but I can’t quite put my finger on why! [Is it, because they don’t cross an estuary?]. The guy who walked “The Perimeter”, only used bridges with pedestrian paths, which I think is a purer and more understandable rule (which I won’t be adopting!) and saves any of these nagging issues I’m finding.

There are three main towns around Torbay, and I soon got the the third town, Brixham. I think that Torquay is trying to appeal to a more aspiring clientele, maybe it wants to be Nice or Monte Carlo, while Paignton seems more down to earth and family oriented. Brixton is quite different as it has quite a big fishing fleet with a commercial harbour, but beyond that it is a very quaint seaside town. It is predominately populated by sausage dogs leading brightly coloured humans from shop to shop, and hundreds of children fishing for crabs. The only shop I was interested in, was finding the Co-op and stocking up with some lunch as the route was to become much more remote from this point.

The walk from Brixham is a proper rugged coastal path. It is a perfect mix of steep climbs, remote coves, open heath land and shady wooded sections and some flat(ish) walking along the cliffs. It was a really hard walk, and in particular two really big climbs, and descent with Man sands bay in the middle. While there was a small house there (and had been in view for miles) there is no road or car park so the dedication of the few beach goers to find a deserted beach is impressive.

I think I am the only person walking westwards, as there were quite a few (lets say a handful) of coast path walkers coming the other way. I’m pretty sure I’m the only person, as the only other possible theory is that I am walking exactly the same pace as all other westward bound walkers – and I don’t think anyone can be that slow! I had a couple of chats en-route, and was able to suggest an easier way down one very steep slope that I had just climbed. At the top it is hard to see which path is the right path down.  Often, there is a choice, the direct obvious path, or an easier route that contours around. Getting down these steep dusty paths without poles, and in any style at all, is almost impossible. These were quite rare as the coast path is pretty amazing with sections of zig-zags and hairpin bends to get you down some of the really steep parts.

I met a couple, who had just moved to Brixham and the guy had done a lot of long distance walking, we compared notes, but he had not done the South West Coast Path yet. I also got chatting to an interesting guy, just after hearing some young peregrine falcon squawking and flying around (he was able to tell me they were peregrines, and not just birds!). He was walking with some friends after a life changing accident, and how walking has helped, and can help, with recovery (if you are reading this I lost your card – can you drop me the podcast details). He was also knowledgeable on the history of tennis, and as luck would have it, Brunel. He brought my attention to a station building in Dartmouth, which was built by Brunel, but the railway line was never built – carrying on my rant from yesterday. PS we seemed to have survived Elon Musk trying to blow the moon up (by accident!), but the press seems very quiet on the subject! [As I’ve been walking today, and thinking too much, this seems even more bizarre, and could be straight from a James Bond movie].

By this point, the half of me that was expecting an easy day and being able to get to Dartmouth for 2 pm for a nice pint in the sunshine, began to realise that we (both halves of me) were in a race against time. I had a drop dead last bus to Totnes leaving at 6 pm, which should, if every connection was on time, get me home by 1 am. This was clearly an undesirable plan, but the buses were only hourly and there was a ferry between me and the bus stop, so I had no idea if even the bad plan was possible. The walk down to Kingswear seemed to go on for ever, it seemed each signpost said two miles, and after 20 mintes sweating up endless stairs it would still say two miles. These distances were definitely measured from perpendicular lengths off a map, rather than with a measuring wheel taking the distance across the ground into account. The first indication of nearing my target was the magnificent view of the castles, or forts, guarding the entrance to Dartmouth. These really give the feel as to why this had been such an important naval port in the past.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t the end of the walk, but after one more slow plod up numerous steps, the path gradually turned into a road which descended through houses that became fancier, and fancier. It seem that I had made it to civilisation. The ferry was at the bottom of the hill and I started to feel confident that I may make it home today. The views across to Dartmouth, are something like you may see in on the Almafi Coast, or Greece (in my defence, I haven’t been to either) with houses stretching up the steep hillside with the river below completely jammed wth boats.

I had been hearing the steam whistles of the Dartmouth Steam Railway for most of the day, well certainly around Paignton where it starts and as I neared Kingswear, where it finishes. The station is just at the foot of the steep hill and it sounded like a train had just come in. From the angle I was standing, it was just possible to see its wheels, but with a ferry waiting I decided to resist any train spotting urges. There are two ferries at Kingswear, a vehicle ferry which I first saw and walked to, and a passenger ferry which was tucked down an alley way. I caught the ferry at 4:30 (£2.50 cards accepted) and felt confident that I should make it home tonight.

Dartmouth, unsurprisingly, was pretty busy. I think visitors come on the steam train from Torbay and cross on the ferry, but it was also geared up with buses to a Park and Ride. This means while it is busy, there aren’t too many cars about – which is nice. I located the bus stop, which was right by the ferry – talk about integrated transport, and I had 20 minutes to wait which was enough time to locate the Co-op and by a massive bottle of water, and some snack for the impending long journey. Walking back to the bus stop, I couldn’t help but notice the bright yellow station building built by Isambard Kingdom Brunel in 1857, who has clearly (not) learnt lessons from the 1848 Atmospheric Railway fiasco, (see yesterdays blog) and now built a station before getting permission to build a bridge over the river, which was refused. I’m beginning to think he may have been a bit of a chancer, and a bit like modern day property developers that keep bending the rules, little by little.

The bus turned up on time, and whisked me to Totnes railways station. I could have potentially caught an earlier train, but there was only one ticket machine on the whole station, which was on the opposite platform and with tired legs I decided to get the next train. It was really good to take the train along the shoreline, and on the track that I had walked next to over the last couple of days. Then on to to Exeter St Davids, to wait for the London Waterloo train (which is much cheaper than Paddington – especially if you only go via Clapham Junction). I had bought an off-peak return to Honiton on the way out, which allows the return to be used within one month, so I just needed to buy a Totnes to Honiton single which cost £9 (with rail card). I got home just before midnight, and it seemed inconsiveable that I had been walking on the coast path a few hours earlier. Having these mini walking breaks, even just the day trips, but especially the overnight ones, are such nice mini-adventures and are so good at disconnecting you from the day to day – I highly recommend.