If you are following the 52 day schedule on the SWCP website (which has been my basic plan), this is the toughest day of the whole path, 24 km and over 1000 m of ascent, crossing ten valleys.
It's not only the toughest section but one of the best, a rollercoster along a dramatic stretch of coastline above huge cliffs and remote beaches. There are climbable crags dotted all along the coast, so I had been here many times to go rock climbing, but I had only walked short sections of the coast path. The photos shows the start of the day's walk at Hartland Quay, with the cliffs of Screda Point in the background.
I was away just before 9am on a dry but grey morning. The first section was a long gentle ascent up to Embury Beacon, the highest point of the day at 157 m, but then the fun started with a steep descent to Welcombe Mouth. Halfway down I came to a well-built stone hut perched on the edge of the cliff.
This is Ronald Duncan's hut; Duncan was a local writer and poet who built the original hut in the 1960s. It fell into disrepair but after his death it was rebuilt by his daughter as a tribute.
Inside there are chairs and a bench where you can admire the view out to sea and either write your own poetry, or get out your flask of coffee and have some cake. I expect you can guess what I did.
Soon after comes the crossing from Devon into Cornwall. On the south coast the county boundary is the Tamar estuary but here it is a small stream, crossed by a
wooden footbridge that is not quite in the same league as Brunel's
Royal Albert Bridge at Saltash.
A few miles further on is another hut; Hawker's Hut, the smallest property owned by the National Trust, a primitive wooden shed tucked into the hillside overlooking a wild beach. It was built in the 19th century by Robert Steven Hawker, the vicar of nearby Morwenstow who, depending on which story you believe, used it for smoking opium, writing poetry, liaisons with local ladies, or lighting lanterns to entice ships onto the rugged rocks below.
As you head south you cannot avoid the strange sight of the GCHQ listening station above Lower Sharpnose Point, several enormous white golf balls and huge satellite dishes that can be seen for miles around. It's on an old airfield where my mother was stationed for a time in World War 2.
The area between Clovelly and Bude is known to climbers as the Culm Coast. I like to think of the rocks as a giant geological millefeuille, with layers of hard sandstone (the culm) interspersed with shale, mud and assorted choss. In most places the strata lie back from the vertical, giving slab climbs suitable for old men with weak arms like me, but Lower Sharpnose Point is completely different - here the millefeuille is lying on its side and the softer layers have eroded away, leaving three huge vertical fins sticking out into the Atlantic. One of the fins is about 40m high and sticks out for 60 m, but is only about 2m thick. It is an extraordinary sight.
Most of the climbs are well above my pay grade, but there are a few routes that I could manage on a good day. This photo was taken on my last visit with Nick Foot in 2021.
Today I stayed well above all this on the coast path before descending to Duckpool and the first signs of civilisation for a long while, even if it was just a car park, toilet block and a couple of houses. After one more steep climb and descent to Sandy Mouth the going became much easier, a pleasant stroll above low cliffs before coming into Bude past the tidal swimming pool. Unsurprisingly there were no customers on a dull winter day.
I reached the B&B at 4.20. The landlord seemed rather surprised when I told him where I had come from. This was the view from my bedroom window looking across to Compass Point.
Distance today, 24 km.
