North Walk: Ho Hum - it's off to Clovelly

Westward Ho at first light.

Saturday October 25th
Another early trip up the North Devon link road. I had worked out a cunning plan with regards to bus links and parking for the weekend. Once I reached Clovelly and beyond to Hartland, the Sunday bus service was non existent, so I would stay the night in Clovelly. It was going to be day of great contrasts - starting at Westward Ho, a famous family resort named after the novel of the same name by Charles Kingsley and ending at one of Devon's most scenic and well preserved old villages.

Meantime, the first bus to catch was the 7.42am from Bideford to Westward Ho. I was going to leave my car at Bideford , as I knew I could catch a bus back to there from Clovelly, which was my target for the day. It would only be 11 miles from Westward Ho - but quite alot of ups and downs as usual. I struggled to get out of bed that morning - it was below freezing, although the forecast wasn't too bad, but I was convinced that I would miss the bus, which wouldn't have been a disaster, but the schedule was tight for the day in order for me to get the right bus back from Clovelly later on. As it happened, as I rolled into the Quay car park at Bideford, the bus turned up opposite. In a bit of a rush, I put the wrong amount of money in the Car park ticket machine, and fumbled about for more change - ended up buying two tickets, hoping the warden would see that if he added them both up - they would amount to a later time in the day!!! - are traffic wardens that clever? - I doubted it - meanwhile, the bus was sat there waiting for the right time to depart, so I needn't have rushed - in fact I still had time to go back to the car for my walking pole. Anyway - it was a beautiful if cold start to the day - and Bideford Quay looked very scenic with the sun rising and lighting up the cottages across the estuary.
At Westward Ho, I grabbed a couple of warm croissants from the Co-op and was on my way.
Once away from the beach huts and caravan parks it was a climb up onto the green clifftops and then a straightforward path heading for Peppercombe Beach. I could see my destination, Clovelly away in the distance, the other side of the large curved ark of Bideford Bay which stretches from Baggy Point to Hartland Point. As the guide book said, it was further away, than it looked, and I would appreciate that more later on in the day!


One of the features of this part of the coast is the number of Lime kilns situated close to the shoreline scattered along the coast.

Another feature was the enormous number of Game Birds. Now, I have met a few game birds in my time - but this was ridiculous. They were springing out of the vegetation in all directions.

At Babbacombe mouth the path went right down to the stoney beach which was strewn with sea litter, mostly plastic of course. It was well away from the tourist route - so I imagine that no one bothers to clean it up.

From here it was a nice stretch to Peppercombe. I was quite pleased that my new boots were holding up well - always a risk, although I had been walking them in all week. Unfortunately, the day's walk was one of the muddiest after all the rain - so they didn't look new for very long. By mid morning, I had warmed up sufficiently to break out the knobbly knees and from Peppercombe headed up through some scenic woods towards the isolated village of Bucks Mill - a poor mans Clovelly. Apparently there used to be alot of inter breeding between the close community at Bucks Mill, so I was expecting to see a village full of half wits and unfortunates. It was a lovely approach to the village climbing down through the woods and suddenly seeing the white cottages. The path ended up right in the middle of the village and there were lots of children playing noisily outside. They all seemed to have the right number of limbs, and I wondered whether they realised how lucky they were to grow up in such a scenic, out of the way place. In fairness they probably hankered for a Macdonalds and a Go Karting track!

From Bucks Mill, it was a long lonely stretch to Clovelly, mostly along Hobby Drive which seemed to go on forever through the Clovelly Estate.

I had been to Clovelly before - it really is beautiful, but by the time I got there - the sun had disappeared and the visibility was poor. The whole village is in private ownership and you enter through a Visitors centre where they fleece you for several pounds just to get into the place. However, if you have walked there - you pay nothing. I arrived in good time for my intended bus back to Bideford - so enjoyed my first coffee of the day and deposited several large chunks of mud off my boots in their cafeteria! I felt quite knackered and put it down to the fact that I hadn't walked the previous weekend so was out of practice. I booked a B&B over the phone. The woman thought me a bit strange ringing from the Visitors centre a few hundred yards away - and even stranger when I said I was getting a bus to Bideford, picking my car up, driving to Hartland Quay, and then getting another bus from Hartland back to Clovelly. Good luck she said. I am now pretty familiar with North Devon's Bus Services and they seem pretty good.

Back at Bideford, the good news was that I hadn't got a parking ticket. So drove to Hartland Quay, where it was blowing an absolute Hooley. The seas were superb. Hartland Quay consists of a large Inn and is no longer a working harbour. The plan was to walk from Clovelly to Hartland Quay on the Sunday and have my car waiting for me. I made sure that they were happy for me to leave my car in their car park overnight and sorted out my overnight clothes. I was faced with a 2.5 mile walk to the village of Hartland to catch the bus, which I didn't fancy to be honest.
It was up a steep hill out of the quay for a starter and having walked about 11 miles....so I flagged down the first car leaving the car park - and the chap who it turned out worked at the pub gladly gave me a lift and dropped me off right at the bus stop. The only problem was that there was an hour to wait for it - so there was no choice but to head for a local hostelry for a couple of pints in front of a welcoming log fire.
Arrived back at Clovelly about 6.30pm and got shown to my room, which was very roomy and had a lovely big bath with loads of hot water - bliss - I even managed to wash my mud caked trouser bottoms as well - took them off first of course!
Spent the evening at the New Inn Hotel bar across the road and then wandered down the slippery cobbled path down to the famous harbour which was deserted. The locals use sleds to drag things up and down the cobbled path which is very steep in parts. It was nice to see it at night and particularly out of season.

Back up the path to my B&B in the New House. Now, me and locks and keys have a bit of history, so it came as no suprise when I found that I couldn't open the external door to the accommodation.
I was conscious that there was a lady having a fag outside the bar watching as I fumbled about with each of the three keys looking to all intents and purposes like a drunk trying to get back into his own house. After a few hopeless minutes, I peered at the lock and it seemed that there was a key already in it! I conceded defeat and headed for the bar to explain my predicament. The barmaid - said "Oh yes - the other guests broke the key in the door - I told them not to close it" Great - it could only happen to me - locked out of my accommodation, and it was now raining. " I'll see if I can break in" the barmaid continued cheerily and grabbed a sharp knife. For the next 20 minutes 3 of us attempted to prise open a ground floor window with a veg knife and the light from a mobile phone.
Eventually, one of the locals prised it open and clambered in to open the door from the inside.
Meanwhile the brainless culprits who not only broke the key in the lock but then closed the door were snoring away in the warm and dry of their room upstairs.
The Clocks were going back that night - I was looking forward to bacon and egg in the morning and probably a wet walk to Hartland Quay!