I woke up in the night for the call of nature, and before going back to sleep I turned on my phone. I have turned it off at night to conserve power, and have “managed” four days without resorting to a plug (but do have two power packs). Anyway, it was lucky I checked as there were a few messages from my niece, Beth, who was joining me today. The reception is terrible and these were obviously stuck in the system. So that was potential disaster avoided as she needed to catch a train before 7, take three trains, two buses and a one hour walk to meet me (I won’t mention she had travelling from Vancouver), that the pull of Coast Path walking (she also walked a day on the Hampshire Coast, so knows what to expect).

I was up at 7, but didn’t rush packing as the speed of the day would be dictated by the tide, for wading across the River Erme (1:30 pm), and the opening of the only shop of the day (8 am). I was camping at Mount Folly Farm, which has certainly diversified. It has a nice camping business, and a thriving milk business, with milk,  milkshake and ice cream vending machine. It seems the campers have an endless thirst for milk. I decided to join in and have an Irn-Bru milkshake for breakfast  along with a black coffee. I’m not 100% sure I’d recommend it, unless you are a supreme athlete walking the coast path!

I got away at about 7:45 and retraced my route from yesterday, except I needn’t of walked down a busy road, and could use the permissive footpath in the adjacent field. Agatha Christie Island looked like an island, with the sand bar only just beginning to show. I was heading to a tidal crossing at 1:30 pm, so high tide must have  been 2 or 3 hours earlier.

It’s so nice walking through a popular sea side resort at 8 am. The car parks are empty and the few people around seem, to me, to be enjoying the calm before the storm, just chilling and looking out to sea. I got to the Nisa “supermarket” by 8.15, and I knew from my previous visit it had nothing I wanted. However I needed walking food so scoured the shelves, and found my favourite flapjacks!! As a side note, the Texaco garage, at Kingswood on the A217, that sold these flapjack for many years, resulting in me buying £5 or fuel and a flapjack as I drove home from work for many years, has been rebounded as a Valero, and stopped stocking the flapjacks – pleas write to your MP (or Count Binface). I digress, I also bought some mini pork pies, as these foods seemed to give the best energy for size (from an un-scientific assessment).

Before I left an area with a data service, I tried to check on Beth’s progress. The train trackers suggested that all three trains were on time, which could be a record! The buses were tricky as I can’t locate a tracker, but assumed the earliest she could get to Modbury, the nearest bus stop, was 12:07 and it was a good hour plus walk to Wonwell. My signal was terrible despite switching between two sims, each alternating “Emergency Calls Only”, and No Signal. Beth was travelling with a Canadian sim, and only had a connection on WiFi. What could go wrong!

So, after what seemed like a lot of faffing, I hit the hills. It was another big hill day, with the traditional ups, usually followed by a down, although on this section, many seemed to be followed by more ups. Having read the news later, this might have occurred due to it being the hottest day of the year so far! The views were great and I started to get glimpses of the bay that the River Erme flows into.

This river is the only one on the South West Coast Path that needs to be crossed by wading. The information says it is “possible” (which I read as not definite) for one hour either side of low tide. When I arrived at 11am, it certainly wasn’t possible, with low tide at 1.30pm. I sat and waited, both for the tide, and for Beth. A few people crossed, with some of them getting pretty deep, and needing sticks, and I made some mental notes of the best route. I chatted to a young woman on day 45 of the path, who had been looking forward to it  and I must agree trying to hit the time window adds somethingto the walk/planning. There are a lot of solo women, its really good to see. I got a few hints, especially on water availability, and was able to give my standard advice on the Lulworth Ranges.

I did some back of a fag packet calculations to try to estimate the best time to walk up the road to meet her. I didn’t want to be too early, and walk to far, equally I didn’t want her to think I didn’t care and just stay sat on the beach. In the end I walked all the way to a junction, where she could have come from either way, which was over 2 km (and 100 metres climbing), with no sign of her. I set my self the target of waiting 10 minutes, as all my gear was on the beach and I didn’t want to leave it too long, and hoped she would appear. The time expired, and I thought I have to walk back on my own (which was the worst outcome, although had I been able to find some chalk I was going to leave some Tour de France writing on the road), but a last peek around a corner, and there she was.

As we walked back down the hill, I was trying to work out what the extra 4 or 5 kilometres made to my target. Down on the beach, my stuff was still there, and the river had reduced significantly and was an easy paddle across. Straight away we deviated from the path to a cafe to refill our water. It was another really posh, and expensive  eatery but did a nice coffee and had the slowest tap ever at the “water station”.

We headed off, through a couple of crowded beaches, before finding solitude on the coast path. As soon as you are 50 metres from a beach, especially up a steep hill, the bustle dissappears. I think some humans may prefer to be overcrowded, while others enjoy empty spaces. I’m certainly in the latter group.

I won’t go on about hills, but the climb up Beacon Hill was probably one of the hardest, with the addition of the heat made for very slow progress.  The map showed a water tap on the far side, which gave a bit of encouragement, but it didn’t seem to exist when we got there. It was a really disappointment as it was so hot, and especilally after the big climb, but a water audit showed we should have enough and we pressed on. I will get the map updated.

The main disappointment was that we had dropped down from the main path to investigate, and now had to contour around, before a bit of a climb onto the main path. However, we were now on a nice track which led all the way to Worswell Barton farm, where we had a camping pod booked.

I was really impressed with the farm, the pod (which had two rooms) and the general facilities (a shower with towels). It was in an idyllic location, so peaceful.

However, we needed food and it was only a 15 minute walk down a footpath to Noss Mayo. Again such a nice little village situated around the various creeks of the River Yealm. The Ship Inn provided nice local beer from Noss Beer Works, for a reasonable price (and a bargain compared to Salcombe).  It had the Salcombe nautical feel, and people messing about in the water, but had a better grasp on reality.

We walked back UP to the farm, on a slightly easier track, ready to watch the British Fireworks Championships (I’ve no idea either) on the horizon from Plymouth. They were pretty good, and only slightly eclipsed by a shooting star I saw later on.