I was packed up and walking by 7:30 am, so I must really be getting into backpacking! It was nice walking down the hill back towards the coast. It was steep, and long, but a cyclist coming the other way reminded me how steep it was. The irony of the Rew Campsite, is it is only about a kilometre from Soar Mill Cove, which was my target for breakfast. Unfortunately, by coast path it was over 7 km of walking.

I reached the coast path, which is just the road along this section, and started to head up again. This wasn’t unexpected, and went through some marvellous rock architecture, with jagged spikes and a path that perilously (with handrail) went around the edge.

There were a couple of biggish climbs, but the path ended up on a plateau with some easy walking. The rock formations continued to impress as I dropped down to Soar Mill Cove. I’d spotted this cove before, firstly as a potential bivvy site, and now as a suitable place to have a brew up (well, a coffee and porridge up).

It was 9:30 and the beach was deserted. This was perfect to pick a breakfast rock, and go beachcombing for a few sticks. I’d be saving paper (tickets etc) to act as kindling, but it was difficult to get the slightly larger sticks going. I dropped in a bit of a fire lighter (cheating I know, but so was using a lighter!). You can’t beat a coffee and porridge, boiled on a beach using driftwood.

People (beach people, holiday makers, normal people) started to arrive and I think they assumed I was the beach hobo. I took the view that it is weirder to lug two huge sun loungers down to the beach (the carpark was 1.5 km away and 130 metres above the beach) than to stop for a coffee – I was the normal one!

It was another stiff climb up to another plateau. Even though it was another 800 metres of climbing day, it was just a couple of big climbs, rather than the continual “ups and downs” of the previous few days. Soon, Hope Cove came into view but it was a long diversion around the headland of Bolt Tail before I got there. Incidentally, Bolt Head was the first headland as I left Salcombe. There was a signpost to Bolt Hole, but I’ve no idea what that is.

Hope Cove looks like a really nice village, very seaside-y obviously, but had a nice feel. I stopped in the pub for a quick refreshing shandy, and accidentally caused a gastronomic sensation. I decided to select a Victoria Sandwich as the accompaniment to my pint of Tribute Shandy, instead of the normal packet of Cheese and Onion. I think you will be seeing this combo in the west end before soon.

The path then headed up again (I must read my blog of walking in Lincolnshire, I’m sure I moan as much about the flat) onto the cliffs alongside a sandy, links golf course. Based on the holes I saw, I imagine a round here would be pretty energetic,  with holes at sea level and high up the cliff.

Rounding the back of the golf course gave the most amazing views of Bigbury-on-sea, with its massive sandy beaches (the tide was out) and Burgh Island, which is affectionate known as Agatha Christie Island. She stayed on the island, and based two books on it. The island is completely cut off by a high tide, but you can walk across when it is low.

The size of the beaches, and the amount of people  on them was amazing. I didn’t have time to enjoy the beach, as I could see my campsite high on the hill on the opposite side of the river. I got to the Bantum Ferry (runs 10-12 and 2-4 £4.95 card accepted) at bang on 2pm. A guy had just gone the ramp in front of me, and I think the ferryman had convinced him to wade across as it was low tide. The same proposition was put to me, and I wanted the boat. The thought of wading across with a big pack, and trying to dry my feet on the other side (unnecessarily) was unappealing. I do have a river crossing tomorrow, but that is unavoidable so I’ll have to do it.

It must be said, it was a very short ferry journey of maybe 100 metres, the remaining say 400 metres was a walk across the mud flats. To get best value from this ferry, its best to catch it a high tide, although I expect the ferryman would suggest swimming across!

The other guy jumped in as well, and he was also heading to the campsite. It was another stiff climb, but the views over the estuary were marvellous.

I’d booked, and paid, for the site but any form of administration seemed to be lacking. I suppose if you have a car they can check registrations, but as a backpacker I was just guided vaguely to a field. I chose a nice shady pitch under a tree – it had been another blistering hot day.

I did have one plan, to try to get a beer in the Pilchard Inn on the island. It was a relief to take my boots off, and put on my (plastic) birkenstocks, with socks to walk down into Bigbury. The tide had already started to cover the sand bank causeway, there is no road, so it was off with my socks for a paddle to the pub.

It looks a really old pub and the pint of Funk and Soul, Otterfest went down really well. I asked the barmaid how long before I could still wade back, and she declared an hour, or hour and a half, but the Sea Tractor leaves every hour. The tide was visibly coming in, and there was no way it would still be below my knees in an hour. I finished my pint quickly, and left at the same time as the Sea Tractor. It’s an impressive machine, and I have a vague recollection of seeing it, and being here before – but I’m just not certain.

Back on dry land, and most of the sand off my feet, they are struggling a bit and the tops of my toes are a bit sore, therefore sand rubbing on the sandal is painful. I may have lost one plaster during my wading, and I apologise to any fish or human affected by it. My next task was to think about food as I’ve only had a slice of Victoria Sandwich since my beach breakfast. There is one shop in town, which is on my route tomorrow, but I thought it best to have a look today, to avoid disappointment. I was disappointed as there are no instant porridge, I really have to think about breakfast. It was nearly 5pm so I decided on Fish &Chips on the beach, as a surrogate lunch, and I can dig into my Pot Noodle for supper – after the partial eclipse.

The partial eclipse was a bit of a disappointment (94.66% at 19.16 in Plymouth) as it didn’t get as dark as I was expecting (from the 95%) and I think maybe as it was in the evening, when you expect it to get dark anyway. I remember the 1999 partial eclipse (I’m not sure what %), when in the middle of the day I went up to Epsom Downs with my work colleagues, it was much more memorable (mainly as we had spent the morning making eclipse viewers, rather than working). I tried to capture it with a timelapse film, bug it just looks like a normal timelapse film and the lower light levels are not picked up at all.  So here’s are a couple of pictures, one from my brother (near London), and my friend Sue from Majorca (total eclipse).

I’m lying in my tent hearing people commentating on the meteor showers that always happen at this time of year, but I can’t muster the effort to get out and look. It’s Election Day tomorrow, or rather Bin Day – so remember to put your Bin out haha!