West-ward Ho! - a visit to North Devon - 18th-21st February 2011

This year’s spring away weekend, organized as usual by the inimitable Ken, was to Ilfracombe, Devon.  About half the group travelled by car, the rest went down by train, taking in the sights of Paddington station en route, travelling via Exeter and Barnstaple to the Dilkhusa Grand, fairly close to the front.  Actually we missed the bus stop and went into the central bus station – a fortuitous move, since it took us past Dolly’s Café!  Named after the owner’s late dog Dolly, the café provided us with much needed tea and lunch sustenance, together with vouchers for future visits – if only they knew….

Ilfracombe in the mistWith some time left in the afternoon, a few hardy souls walked off the meal by climbing The Lookout, a section of the cliff that ran down to the back of town.  We discovered in passing the house of Henry Williamson, author of 'Tarka the Otter'.  While the book may be less well known these days, a 180 mile long trail which includes the area of Barnstaple, Braunton and Ilfracombe is called the Tarka Trail, after the otter in the book.  We took a look at the harbour, checked out some gone-off dead fish in baskets, and then retired to the hotel for dinner and to plan the next day’s events.

As luck would have it we had a Plan B, as Plan A for Saturday went somewhat askew when the bus towards Woolacombe (Plan A) left on time, before we were all gathered.  Nil desperandum!  Up to the High Road, stopping off in one of Devon’s excellent pastry shops for lunch supplies, then on the bus eastwards towards Combe Martin (Plan B).  The signs told us that the walk back was a mere 5 miles, no problem at all for us hardy walkers, but the day was grey and misty and the paths ... well, the coastal path was quite sticky with a very clay-like mud and this combined with quite a few upward slopes soon proved decidedly more challenging.  By the time we hit Watermouth Bay, everyone was wearing mud gaiters!  The path went down into the harbour and luckily the tide was out, as we had to cross the mud flats.  The Harbour Master then very obligingly informed us that a fallen tree had been cut down and was blocking the path ahead.  No problem, we cried, and off we went.  Except that the fallen tree blocked a set of stairs, halfway up….  Duncan, adventurous as ever, and much bigger than most of us, scaled around it using the banisters, and we then took it in turns to pass bags round and over and clamber through the railings and up the other side, except for Annick, who erred on the side of caution and went over the tree, somewhat more difficult than it sounds.  From then on the path was clear of obstruction, unless you count lots more mud, but it did go up.  A lot.

Stopping for a snackStill, what goes up must come down, and after having to nearly form a human chain to climb one extra slippy section, we hit the downhill stretch at Hele, (not pronounced Hell – we wondered…) where refreshments were partaken at a pub garden in return for the use of the picnic benches – the publican wisely not letting us muddy creatures indoors.  The pasties made another appearance, as did some interesting local cider – well earned!  After lunch we continued along Hele Bay and up once again to the cliff tops, where the views of the coast were quite spectacular in places – lots of private bays and inlets, the odd sheep or several, some kittiwakes nesting and flapping about on a cliff face and a special view of Ilfracombe harbour in the mist.  Its amazing how the speed improves when you see the destination and in not too much time at all we were in Ilfracombe and heading for Dolly’s Café for a reviving afternoon cuppa and toasted teacakes, dirty trousers disguised with backpacks and such so as not to put off the other customers.

By Sunday, the weather was much improved but there was a travel snag, no buses on Sunday.  Chairman Jim made some swift arrangements and a cab ferried us to Woolacombe in shifts, with much giggling going on in the back.  You know who you are!

Woolacombe Bay has to be seen to be believed – a huge stretch of sandy beach, seen from a long way up the hill, with a stunning head of surf – enough to bring some wet-suited braves out with their boards.  Just like Hawaii but with West Country accents!  Had the day been warmer there might have been some difficulty extracting people from the beach, but we had a job to do.  The first stop en route was at the top of the cliff; a memorial to the American Troops killed having practiced at Woolacombe for the D-Day landing, and a photo op for Chairman Jim!  Within a short distance was Barricane Beach, one of the finest shell beaches in the British Isles, and again we got diverted slightly until group leader Ken cracked the whip.

North Devon coastlineOff we went across a sheep field and at this point the group split, some electing to go up and over the cliffs, others following the path strictly and going round.  Poor Annick once again had severe problems with the path and the edges, but was helped by various group members and a passing walker who happened to be going the same way.  We met back up at Morte Point and followed the path around and up and down to the Bull Point Lighthouse, wonderfully white against the cliffs and perched on its promontory.  A short distance further on and in the face of some biting winds, we stopped at Pensport Rock Cove for lunch - more pasties – and a few trips behind bushes or rocks!

Unfortunately straight after eating there was a fairly stiff climb up the cliffs again and in the face of increasingly stiff breezes.  Like all good paths, this one went down again, into a valley where the small village of Lee nestled, but any refreshment facilities were sadly closed so the encouragement of tea was not to be had.  Upwards and onwards (again) - though along a road this time so slightly easier going - and across a field to within sight of Ilfracombe.  This was a bit deceptive – seeing something from a high point disguises all the ups and downs you have to go through to get there.  The last major high point also had two splendid traps – a wind so stiff that some of the lighter people in the group were in severe danger of being blown off their feet – where was that big wind block Duncan when we needed him?  Not sooner had we managed to haul ourselves through the gate into a more sheltered field, mainly by hanging onto the hedge and pulling, than the last surprise was sprung.  The way down into Ilfracombe was by way of a series of switchbacks with sneaky dead-ends that took far longer than we had hoped.  The path came out behind Ilfracombe’s unusually designed theatre, well placed though, for – Dolly’s Café!

In spite of the day’s travails o’er cliffs and through high winds, Annick was not put off by that evening’s entertainment and she proved a dab hand at the snooker table after dinner that night.

The weekend was rounded off before we had to get on the train back to London by our bus ride to Barnstaple and exploring that ancient town’s various delights – an excellent museum, the various old markets, tea rooms and of course the souvenir Devon Clotted Cream – much harder to walk off back home!

For more pictures taken during the trip click here

Sue Ullersperger, March 2011