Camped among the remains of an iron age fort i woke feeling awful despite having a good nights sleep. The cocodamol had obviously worn off. It was easy to rectify, a couple more pills popped and i knew I'd be good for the rest of the day.
After packing up my kit i set off towards worms head where I'd been told by roger to call in at the coastguard lookout and say hi. Arriving at the small white hut right at the point of worms head i introduced myself to Penny and roger the volunteer coastguards who were lovely and invited me in to have a natter. Whilst chatting they pointed out to me that i could see the Devonshire coastline from there. It seemed so close yet at the same time so far.
Leaving the hut i followed a combination of trails some forming the coastal path others worn into the bedrock by walkers and sheep. My knee wasn't as bad as it was the day before but i was still very conscious not to over do it so i took regular stops along the way to rest both knees. I didn't want my right knee to get any worse and at the same time I didn't want to put extra pressure on my left.
The coast was still very spectacular with many ups and downs or more precisely downs before having to make the steep climbs back up onto the clifftops.
It was late afternoon by the time i arrived at Horton and coming across a cafe i decided to stop for a chip buttie and treated myself to a tub of ice cream. The Horton lifeboat station wasn't too much further on and i was lucky to catch steve the mechanic who had been expecting me. With a smile and a hand shake steve immediately offered me a coffee and as i put batteries on charge we began to chat. Steve had recently received the mbe from the queen for his services to the rnli. He took pride in his efforts with the school parties he'd educated and talked to over the years. Before leaving Horton steve handed me about a kilo of kitkats. Although not very nutritious it was a lovely thought and would actually prove to be a welcome break over the next few days as my rations slowly dwindled.
Time as always was moving on and stopped for no man. I wanted to try and clock up a good few more miles that day before pitching up for the night. I hadn't walked very far in deed before i was distracted. Passing an elderly fella sat in his garden enjoying the views i did my usual by saying hello and complimenting him on his choice of view. John replied by inviting me to take a break and join him. Why not i thought. It was a lovely evening and it would of course be rude to just pass by.
John was a curious fella. He wore a dainty ladies watch and as i later observed had shaved his legs and wore imitation pearl and sapphire ear rings. He'd lived in the village for many years with his wife but had recently had a shock when his wife was rushed into hospital and diagnosed with cancer. The shock hit john so hard he'd suffered a little memory loss but was himself beginning to recover. As we chatted john began to tell me stories about his mother during the war. Whether or not the stories were true i could not judge but none the less they were fascinating and john told them with great conviction.
During the war johns mother had been recruited by the army for her fluent french and her long history of living in France when she was a child. She was the perfect choice for being what john called a sleeper. To you and i a spy. John recalled in great detail how his mother was sent behind enemy lines and how she had been given a cover story, money and french clothes. Parachuting beyond her rendezvous point she avoided potential capture and after a few weeks of wild camping gradually blended in with the locals collecting intelligence information from sympathisers and helping evacuate pilots using fishing trawlers who'd also been recruited. I wished I'd had a small dicta phone with me to record the encounter with john but alas i did not.
From Horton the coastal views and walk became absolutely stunning. So much so that i felt i needed to stop, relax and enjoy the moment. The skies were blue, the grass was green and the cliffs towered above me from behind. The waters were calm and the waves made a soothing sounds as they lapped against the rocky shores below. Words fail to describe the moment but it would be one I'm sure I'd look back on in times to come. The Devonshire coast was noe clearly visible in the evening light, England was witin sight and the trek would soon draw to its final conclusion with me crossing that concrete bridge in the middle of Southampton.
I carried on although where I'd been sitting would have been a lovely place to pitch and call it a day. The coastal path from there was easy going and i soon ended up walking among the trees with ramsons lining the way. Emerging from the woods i found myself self looking across a long sandy beach, people had several fires going with music playing from their cars and mobile phones. The sun was setting and it was soon to be dark. Seeing a woodland on the far side i set off in hope of finding somewhere quiet and concealed. It was a while though before i settled on a small pitch beneath some trees.
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