Day 21 - Monmouth to Pandy

5 May
Distance: 16 miles
Number of aspiring killer dogs (failing miserably in its quest): 1

I've been a walker my entire life. My parents used to take me walking before I could walk. As you may expect, all of this walking has involved a lot of peeing out of doors. So, you'd have thought that with over 30 years experience in the matter I may have learned to check for stinging nettles first. Alas, as I have now (painfully) learnt, it only takes a small aberration to find yourself with nettle rash in places where nettle rash should not be.

That aside, it was day 2 on the Offa's Dyke Path (ODP) today and although much of it was across farmland it was still jolly nice - and jolly undulating.

The ODP continued to be well waymarked and in most places well trodden. Admittedly, it was a bit tricky to see where the path went through the field of rape that was three feet tall. It was also rather tricky (impossible, I'd wager) to get through that field without getting covered from shoulder to knee with yellow pollen. However, most of that pollen was covered by the mud that I managed liberally to smear over myself later in the day.

Luncheon (hastily bought in the only grocer I could find open in Monmouth at 7am on a Bank Holiday) was eaten just below, and with a good view of, White Castle, before we continued across the fields, suddenly surrounded by families after hours of solitude.

The high cloud of the morning (fortunately) took a long time to burn off. It was warm even without the sun, but a couple of miles from Pandy the sun broke through, and golly, it was hot.

Still it was only a short stroll (with aching feet) down to Pandy and only a few steps or so up the road to our campsite, where the owner kept us entertained for a good while before we pitched the tent. Once again, we were the only tent there (and this is a tent only site), which also of course meant that we didn't need to feel guilty about hogging the shower for an unreasonable length of time.

With 21 days walked, we're now quite focussed on the rest day that we're having on Wednesday, just 17 miles away.

Day 20 - Chepstow to Monmouth

4 May
Distance: 19 miles (going on 84)
Number of mice I stepped on: 1 (by accident)

Today was our first day in our boots and the first day on the Offa's Dyke path (ODP) - and it was hard. As I sit here (next to the still smouldering Bushbuddy) typing this my feet still feel like someone's been punching the soles all day.

But back to this morning. As we left the campsite we agreed that it was the worst value for money yet. For £11 you get a patch of field and a share in a single toilet, shower and hand basin in a 'rustic' outbuilding. We couldn't grumble, mind, as the owner donated £6 of the fee to Macmillan.

As we walked back into Chepstow, at 7am, it was with the belated realisation that with today being Sunday we were very unlikely to find a grocer in the town centre open for business - and we didn't even have any breakfast, never mind lunch. Even worse, we weren't to pass another store until three miles before our destination.

As fortune had it we passed close to a Tesco petrol station in the town. I crossed my fingers that they opened at 7 and so it turned out to be. The food crisis was solved, which was a jolly good thing as I was having a particularly hungry day.

With rain falling on us (but so warm!) we set off along the (mainly) well way marked route.

All went well, despite the occasionally heavy downpours, until this afternoon, when we misplaced the ODP. I'm not sure how it came about but it took us so long to notice the error (and we were heading in the right direction, just on a parallel lower path) that we decided to vary the route slightly. I fear that the result was even more ascent than advertised and no less distance. We weren't the only people to make the same error either; we encountered eight others who had done likewise, albeit six of those were together in a D of E group.

By the time we reached Redbrook the wearing of the boots, the ascent and the cumulative mileage of the last three days was showing. Our legs were tired and the last three miles were a struggle, even though the day had dried and brightened. We again varied our route (intentionally this time, but as a side effect we missed what the guide book describes as the best view point on the whole ODP; as visibility wasn't great we didn't feel as bad about that as we might have) to take the seemingly easier riverside path.

Arriving in Monmouth every B&B looked inviting and we very nearly knocked on the door of one, but with a final burst of energy we made it to the campsite on the far side of town, where a small pitch was found for us despite the site being fully booked.

It's going to be an even earlier early night tonight, so that we'll be fighting fit and raring to go in the morning. It's a more pleasantly proportioned 15.75 miles tomorrow.

Day 19 - Easton-in-Gourdano to Chepstow

3 May
Distance: 19 miles

A week or ten days ago I made the pleasant discovery, on the eve of a long day, that there was a typo on the schedule and that the day I had 18.75 miles was actually only 17.

On the evening of Day 18 (when we could have walked a couple of extra miles without a problem) I found another typo - this one not so favourable. It turned out that our 18 mile day to Chepstow was actually 19.5 miles. It called for an early start and resistance of any long breaks.

Adrian & Deborah (of whom I'll speak separately once I've caught up with myself) dropped us back at our finish point in Easton at 7am.

It was a day that on paper looked like it was going to be dominated by motorways. Indeed, early on we walked alongside the M5, on the pedestrian walkway, across the Avon bridge. Fortunately the wind was not strong, although it was a bit disconcerting to feel the movement in the bridge, particularly as lorries went past.

Leaving the M5, I had exected to still feel its presence as we made our way along. As it turned out I take my hat off to Andy Robinson, the author of the Cicerone guide (whose route we were following in its entirety on this day), for he has managed to come up with a very pleasant route, taking in Blaise Castle (a hill-top folly built in 1766), Blaise Hamlet (which looked like it should have been made of gingerbread) and plenty of green places, woodland and parkland that gave no hint of its proximity to the motorways.

His route also passed a general store just as we were getting a bit concerned about where we would get any lunch, and once again as we pondered where to put our bananas a woman came over, put a pound coin down next to us and wished us well. I assume that it was a donation to Macmillan rather than her taking Husband's untidy beard and dishevelled appearance to mean that he was homeless and in need of a cup of tea!

A final crossing of the M5 saw us leave it for good. A few paces later an illegally obstructed ROW, together with a man on a quad bike telling us that the ROW ran around the edge of the field when it was blazingly clear from the map that it went straight across, had me ranting about ROW Officers, but my mood improved two gateways later when we arrived just as the big muddy wallow was being filled in with stone. Good timing there!

More pleasant walking took us by-and-by to another track, this time over the M4, then after a brief stop for lunch, within close sight of the 'Old Severn Crossing' we made our way up the access road to this magnficent suspension bridge.

We'd just got to the bridge when Edwina, at that point accompanied by husband Tony on a push bike, caught us up doing one heck of a lick. Chatting as we walked (she slowed down, we speeded up) it turned out that she had left Land's End on 20 April and was roughly following the Cicerone Guide route up to Scotland then taking a more direct route up to JOG. For the moment she's being supported by Tony in a campervan, but only for the next few days, whereafter she'll be backpacking.

So that's now 3 other end-to-end walkers we've met in a week. There must be quite a lot of us out there doing this (or Mick and I just have a special talent for bumping into those who are).

We walked into Chepstow as a party of three until in the centre a pub called Mick & I, whereas Edwina had a rendez-vous with a campervan to make.

For us there was no point continuing to our campsite for this was the day that we were switching tents from the TN Voyager to Wendy Warmlite, which meant that we needed to meet up with cousin Nic before we could pitch - and at 3.15 we had arrived in the town a good hour before we expected to.

After doing the equipment swap and gorging on a Chinese meal, it was quite a late night for us (9.30 to bed!) and it wasn't many minutes after crawling into Wendy that the gentle sound of snoring could be heard.

Day 19 - Holding Post

Sorry - was busy eating and drinking last night so didn't find time to blog (seemed a bit rude to get the blogging device out in the middle of dinner!).

Be assured, those who are fretting about us, that we are alive, well and on schedule.

All being well normal service will be restored tonight.

Day 18 - Congresbury to Easton-in-Gourdano

02 May
Distance: 14 miles
Number of killer dogs encountered: 1

Despite the relatively short day today we still bounded out of our sleeping bags at the 6am alarm this morning and were ready to go at 7.30.

We said goodbyes to Conrad, who had arrived at the campsite a few hours after us yesterday having taken the scenic route out of Cheddar, via the Gorge. He expects that we won't meet again, however, as our routes do coincide in quite a few places further north, I wouldn't be surprised if we do.

Out of the campsite and crossing the river Yeo we found ourselves back on the rly line, which seemed remarkably busy for the time of day. We had to leap out the way of bicycles as they snuk up behind us quite a few times.

Having negotiated Yatton, at the end of the Strawberry Line (as this excellent recreational rly bed is known), we were back across fields. Here the mud that has been building up quite remarkably on our trousers over the last 2.5 weeks was largely washed off by very wet grass and knee high crops.

A while later, back onto the levels, our route took us alongside a large drainage channel that runs between the Blind Yeo and the Land Yeo. Jolly nice walking it was too, with the sun beating down on us. I even emitted a very girly 'aah' when we spotted the first clutch of mallard ducklings so far. Do they breed late down here or early along the Trent & Mersey?

A path along the Land Yeo led us, in very close proximity to the M5 (didn't spot any Norberts, mind) to a road and to Golden Acres Fruit Farm, which was notable for its cafe with a huge selection of home made cakes. £8 seemed rather steep at first for two cups of tea and two slices of cake, but it turned out that the portions of cake were generous even for hungry walkers and the pot of tea proved to be endless.

We stayed there for far longer than we would have on any other day, but today we had a lot of hours to do not many miles.

Pulling ourselves back to our feet we continued through the fruit farm, through the gates bearing a 'no entry - staff only' signs, and into an orchard.

From the track we joined beyond the fruit farm the day just got better and better (well, except for my left foot, but we'll get to that). The views from Tickenham Hill down to the Severn Estuary were fantastic, made even better by the blue-skied clear day. They were views that we had from many vantage points as the day went on.

Various countryside paths across fields and through woodland were the theme for the rest of the day, and completely splendid they were too. Well used too; we passed quite a number of other walkers.

There were only two negatives in the day. One was the footbridge across the M5 (we've now crossed the M5 quite a few times; is it us meandering or the M5?). As a child I always hated crossing motorways on those 'tunnel' bridges at service stations. I don't mind those these days, but I do hate crossing via narrow pedestrian bridges. Today Husband mocked me as I hurried across refusing to look left or right, never mind stopping to look down at the traffic.

The other downside was my left foot. After two days of being relatively pain free it had fooled me that whatever ailed it was on the mend. Today the malady returned with a vengence. It's definitely muscular and it's on the underside, on the outside edge of the foot. In the hope that my more supportive boots will assist, I've called for them a day early. My cousin is going to make the longer journey a day earlier than intended to deliver our change of kit (boots and different tent) to us. A huge thank you goes out to Nic and Luke for that.

Back to the good stuff of today, though: as I sit and type this we're sitting in the Rudgleigh Inn in Easton-in-Gourdano. This was the one night on the entire route that I was really concerned about accommodation, what with Easton only having one B&B and with it being in close proximity to the M5 and with us heading into a Bank Holdiay weekend.

The accommodation worry has been solved for us. We're not staying at the only B&B in the village. No, we're waiting for a very kind man indeed. Adrian works for Macmillan and has offered us not only a bed for the night but also a meal and <sign of delight> a bath.

The bath will be particularly welcome tonight. There's an unpleasant smell in this corner of the pub and being the only people in this room we can't blame it on anyone else!

Week 2 - Random Thoughts

Total distance so far: 254 miles

We're now two and a half weeks in and the good news is that we're still having a fantastic time. Even on the days when the feet ache a tad, we sit in the tent at the end of it and look back favourably on the day. Long may that continue.

News on the hair front is that Husband's beard is taking on real beardiness proportions now and that my half inch locks are getting noticeably longer. I'll be needing to find a barber soon as I've got too used to not needing a hair brush to even think about growing it again just yet!

A few more thoughts on the gear front:

Tilley Hat: absolutely love my Tilley. So glad that I finally got one. It's comfy (so much so that I keep forgetting to take it off), it keeps the sun off, and as an added bonus, in moderate rain it's much more satisfactory than a hood.

OMM Villain backpack: Another item with which I'm very happy. On the whole it has, thus far, been way more comfortable than any other pack I've used. Every now and then, and for reasons that I can't fathom (I've tried all sorts of adjustments), it starts to cripple my left shoulder (only ever the left). I take it off for five minutes and it'll be fine after that. The only other downside is with using my thermarest as the back-pad - when it rains, my thermarest gets rather wet; I'm working on a way of solving that.

Inov8 Roclites: They only have to last three more days. Just 50 or so more miles. Fingers crossed that they make it, although it's certain that they will be going in a bin once I pick up my boots. If it wasn't for the durability issue I would have become an Inov8 convert over the last couple of weeks, but £65 for 300 miles of wear (assuming they get there) is a bit steep in my book.

Extremities Powerstretch Gloves: Not impressed at all. These were bought the week before Christmas. In the middle of February a finger came unstitched. I took the sewing machine to it and it was duly mended. Now I find myself with my right glove having a detatched thumb for the same reason. The sewing kit will be coming out again and next time I need a pair of gloves it will be of a different brand. No problem with Husband's Rab Powerstretch ones.

Day 17 - Cheddar to Congresbury

1 May
Distance: 10 miles
Number of waggy dogs met: 18

According to our schedule, today should be a rest day. We placed it specifically as we thought that it would be nice to spend the day looking around Cheddar Gorge, whilst we were in the area.

However, the schedule also saw us walking 24 miles tomorrow. After our string of 18/19 mile days last week, neither of us really fancied a 24 miler, so we decided to forego our day off and replace it with an easy day.

After we had picked up the disused railway line out of Cheddar (something we did after a modicum of directional confusion, but having stopped to chat to some tandeming end-to-enders) I realised that we perhaps hadn't made the right route choice. The route that I'd plotted out of Cheddar, along the old rly line, was based on us already having walked around the gorge area on our day off. It was only after a mile of walking this morning that I realised that in the absence of the day off we should have taken the more circuitous route to see the sights and scenary.

No point crying over spilt milk, mind, and I was soon cheered when we came to the village of Axebridge, with its narrow streets and colourful rows of houses. The whole place is full of character and it was a pleasure to walk through.

The rly path was rather pleasant too. This one hasn't been ruined by a tarmac surface and for the most part it doesn't run within cuttings, so we had good views of the Mendips as we went along - in between the showers at least.

One particularly heavy shower would have seen us reaching for the waterproofs, save that there was a tunnel just ahead of us. We got a little wet before we made it to the shelter, commenting that we hoped the weather would be better when we got out the other end. As if by magic, we emerged at the far end to clearing skies and sunshine.

A hundred dog walkers were encountered along the next section of the path, but all with well behaved animals (even if one did take a bit too much interest when it heard me opening a snack bar wrapper).

At Sandiford one gets thrown off the ex-rly for a distance, taking to roads instead, but it was only a couple of km before we got to rejoin it for the last section to our night stop.

That last section was very quiet indeed - and also quite remarkably straight and flat. It made us feel like we were on a treadmill; at least with bends and lumps you make some discernable progress towards them!

Finally, after a couple of wiggles in the path, caravans came into view. It's another of those 'Touring Parks' that looks really busy, but in reality most of the caravans are on seasonal pitches and are unoccupied. Once again, we are the only tent (although it is early yet; we arrived at 1pm after our short day).

It was shortly after arriving that I realised that my towel was still on the radiator in the Ladies' at Cheddar. Doh! That's the first thing either of us has misplaced on this walk. Vic is on the case to sort me out with a new one, so it should only be a few days that I'm drying myself on a handkerchief!

Day 16 - Bawdrip to Cheddar

30 April
Distance: 15 miles
Number of cute puppies encountered:1

It was a disturbed night's sleep at Fairways Touring Park. The rain had let up (not that rain would have disturbed us) but other things were conspiring against a restful night.

The first disturbance was when I was awoken by the sound of a tractor coming straight at us. With my mind addled from the sudden transition from asleep to vaguely-aware I was convinced for a moment that we were wild camping in the corner of a farmer's field and that he was about to mow us and the tent down.

Realising that we were actually on a campsite I relaxed a little and put the noise down to nocturnal tractor movements on a nearby lane.

When I awoke an hour or so later and having gone through the nightly ritual of getting dressed and popping over to the facilities the noise was explained. For reasons unknown the campsite had chosen the middle of the night to do ground works. The tractor that I had heard had actually been a digger. That digger proceeded to dig for the next few hours.

I assume that the digging had something to do with the electric supply as it was a dark experience in the ladies.

It didn't take much shivering in the dark for me to look up and notice that the sky had cleared and the temperature had dropped, so back in my sleeping bag I did the hood up tight around me. And then came the next disturbance; the next time a heavy vehicle woke me I found that I was lost within my sleeping bag. I must have twisted round in it and could I find the opening? Frantically I flailed around thinking that I was going to have to wake Husband to help me, when finally I located the opening and returned myself to the proper position.

The earthworks finally came to an end at about 4.30, but still we were not to be undisturbed. It seemed that we had only just settled when the (unwelcome) alarm started trilling.

The morning saw us return to the apparently closed cycle route and from there a few lanes and some very wet grassy fields, not to mention quite a few electric fence obstacles and locked gates, saw us head across the levels.

Our biggest navigational head-scratching moment happened in admidst all of the drainage ditches. It was one of those moments when what the compass said didn't seem to tally with what we could see. It took a while to work out that we were walking along the wrong drain and that the only thing we could do was walk back to the last bridge (admittedly only a couple of hundred yards) and put ourselves right.

More navigational challenges led us to the village of Blackford where the Sexey's Arms was to be found, which served us a good lunch which set us up for the afternoon. It also was where we met a local by the name of Mike, a Lincoln City FC fan, who added £10 to our fundraising.

Dragging ourselves out of the pub and into a passing shower, the afternoon did not start well. A failure to make a turning shortly after the pub caused a bit of a tour around the edges of the village before we got ourselves back in the right direction.

Today we were following the route suggested by the Cicerone End-to-End Trail book and it was clear that these paths are not well trodden. It was also clear early on that using 1:25k OS maps would have been much easier than following the sketch maps from the book.

We'd just negotiated a particularly tricky double stile (stile is perhaps a generous word here) that involved a bit of limbo dancing on the first part and clambering on the second, when ahead of us in the field we saw a chap with a big backpack.

Given our location it seemed pretty likely that this was another LEJOGer, and so he turned out to be. His name is Conrad, he's 68 (and had a knee op just at the end of last year!) and it appears that he left Land's End on the same day as us but whereas we headed south on the coast path he had headed north along it.

As nice as it was to have someone to walk with for the afternoon we did all lose our concentration somewhat with the chatting and merrily continued following the route we had plotted, even though we had decided to vary it. Half a km out of our way we went before we realised and turned back, making a complete meal of the navigation the whole time.

Finally we put ourselves firmly on the revised route and arrived at Cheddar Bridge campsite at a reasonable hour of afternoon. Pitching was followed by the obligatory gear chat with Conrad over a cup of tea, which is always an enjoyable way to pass the time of day.

Conrad will get ahead of us tomorrow as we have an easy day, but our routes coincide for a while yet (up Offa's Dyke so it's emminently possible that we will meet again.

So, that's two other LEJOGers we've met this week. I wonder how many people there are in total walking this walk right now?

Day 15 - Bathpool, Taunton to Bawdrip

29 April
Distance: about 15 miles

The tiredness of last night seeped into this morning. The alarm went off at the usual time of six am, but rather than leaping out of my sleeping bag I turned over and slept for another hour - no mean feat with the racket being made by the peacocks and cockerels.

The unplanned lie-in meant it was knocking on for 9am by the time we wandered away from the campsite and back down to the Taunton and Bridgwater Canal.

Having walked quite a considerable part of its length over the last two days I've had to conclude that it's not a well frequented waterway. I'm used to the Trent & Mersey canal where even on a drizzly Tuesday morning there will be boats on the move and even more life in those moored. On the Taunton & Bridgwater I could count the number of moored craft on one hand and we saw none moving.

The tow-path was almost as quiet. We had miles at a time to ourselves, so it was quite a surprise an hour through the morning to hear a bicycle bell behind us.

The chap on the bicycle, Mike, slowed down to talk to us and ask what we were doing before he carried on his way, but he'd not got more than 50 yards away from us before he stopped and turned. As we caught him up he gave us £10 for Macmillan. So, a big thank you to Mike; not only has Macmillan benefitted but it put a smile on our faces too.

Whilst people were absent, there were birds and ducks aplenty. I've lost count of the number of herons we've seen over the last few days and there are lots of swans sitting atop their impressive piles of nests. We even saw a deer today, in the rather unlikely location of an open wheat field; it was standing right on the opposite edge of the canal. We stared at each other for a while until it bounded off across the wheat and finally went to ground.

Our attention was then drawn by the Somerset Space Walk which features along this canal. It's on a scale of 1:530million and gives information about each planet as you pass its relative position in the solar system. Each planet is on a milestone (a kilometre stone, really) giving the distance to Bridgwater and from Somerset, although we suspected that some of them were slightly less than accurate.

With the morning's showers turning to more persistent rain, we walked straight past the only pub we saw all day, and soon after we took a bit of a flyer and left the canal.

My plotted route would have seen us go into Bridgwater and back out again for no reason other than an apparent lack of bridges over the River Parrett. However, when I scrutinised the map this morning it looked to me, by the presence of a cycle route, that there may be a way across at the point where the railway crosses. I deemed it worth the diversion to go and have a look and worthwhile it turned out to be. There was indeed a walkway on the side of the rail bridge and it saved us a mile of walking up the river to walk back down again. Given the pain in my left foot which had appeared about five miles into the day, omitting an unnecessary mile was a happy event.

Oh, but the rain. It came down and showed no sign of letting up. A quick change of socks to my Sealskinz was made before we started tackling the long, wet grass of the fields that would lead us to Bawdrip.

A farmer wielding a shot gun was the only sign of life we encountered over the last couple of miles (got us a bit worried when soon after we passed him we heard shots) and soon we were heading towards the village.

All we then had to do was to pick up a cycle route that would lead us directly to our campsite. Finding the cycle route was easy enough. The problem came about 100yds later when we got to the tall locked gate. The previous pedestrian gate had also been closed off by the addition of tall palings.

Husband was all for taking an alternative route, but scrutinising the map I was certain that we were in the right place and that the cycle route lay on a RoW. Over the gate I climbed, Husband following my lead and within half a mile of good path we were tackling a very nasty main road to cover the last 100 yards of the day.

We arrived at the campsite in the still-lashing (I had used the phrase 'pissing' there, but Husband told me that was an inappropriate word to use on my blog!) rain but were cheered by the chatty owner who kindly donated all of our pitching fee to Macmillan.

We're now huddled in the tent, with everything wet and hoping, with all things crossed, that the weather is going to perk up tomorrow (oh, and that my foot recovers).

Day 14 - Sampford Peverell to Taunton

28 April
Distance: 18.75 miles
Number of killeresque dogs: 1
Number of dogs who wanted to eat my lunch: 3
Number of overly friendly sheep: 16

A couple of hours of yesterday evening were spent chatting to Eileen and Frank. They were brought to our attention when we arrived at our campsite for the fact that Frank set off from Land's End, with his Border Collie Tess, two days after we did. Frank's wife Eileen is supporting him in their camper van.

Although we were on the same campsite Frank is actually a day and a bit behind us and our routes diverge in a couple of days time so it seems unlikely that our paths will cross again.

He poked his head out of his camper van this morning as we set off on our way and we all wished each other the best of luck with the rest of our respective routes.

For us it was back to the Grand Western Canal which we followed under initially clear blue skies until it came to an abrupt end, from where we followed its former route for the rest of the morning (at times walking down the middle of the trough that used to be the waterway).

Plenty of mud was found to cover our shoes and trouser bottoms, which made me say again that I really must wash the trousers - it's just a bit tricky when you don't have a spare pair to wear during the washing and drying process!

Having left the wet part of the canal, our navigation across fields was assisted by way-marks but would have been easier still with a 1:25k map, something that was inexplicably was missing for most of the morning's route. It wasn't until I came to turn over the 1:50k page that I discovered that the 1:25k was printed double sided and all of the head scratching as to which side of hedgerows we wanted to be had been needless. It certainly would have speeded us up when we had map and compass in hand in a field of overly friendly sheep, giving them time to run from their various corners of the field to accost us.

Whilst all of this was going on, the ominous skies which had developed over the course of the morning duly delivered rain, albeit not heavily enough to warrant ferretting in the packs for waterproofs.

A lack of lunchables led to a short diversion at lunchtime (which fell at about 1pm today) to Bradford-on-Tone, a village which provided us with both refreshment and good company in the White Horse Inn.

The afternoon saw us following the river Tone for what should have been just a couple of hours' stroll to just beyond Taunton.

We'd barely got into our stride, following the higgledy piggledy path alongside the meandering river when we spotted rain coming. We didn't need the following rumble of thunder to tell us that waterproofs were going to be wise this time.

It was one of those downpours that, had we been in the tent, would have had us saying "I'm glad we're not out walking in this". It was one of a number that caught us during the afternoon, some more torrential than others, but cruelly in between times the sun came out to make us overheat in our GoreTex.

Having reached Taunton and paused for longer than was justifiable in Tesco's cafe whilst sorting out tomorrow's food supply, we found (with a modicum of difficulty - the trouble of navigating through towns where there's just too much information to show clearly on the map) the canal that would lead us to our campsite.

With tiredness upon us after what had been a long day, the last mile and a half out of Taunton seemed interminable. Of course, we did finally reach our night stop and having paid our £4 (and that's for the two of us, not each) we have a pitch for the night.

There is more upon which I could comment (the lack of mallard chicks, the trees in leaf, the rape fields in bloom) but exhaustion is now too great for thinking and my sleeping bag is calling my name.

Feet and Food

There are some people reading this, who rather cruelly perhaps, are itching for news of crippling blisters, chafing of parts that should not chafe, and similar discomforts.

Almost two weeks in and the blister count so far is three and all of those are mine. Sorry to disappoint but they have also all been very small indeed.

On Day 7 without me noticing I got a blister on the same place on the underside of each heel. About the size of two pinheads they were hardly enough to write home about and they were soon dealt with.

A couple of days ago a third blister appeared on a toe in such a position that I can only assume that it was caused by a bit of grit in my sock. Again, there was no pain involved (at least not until I decided last night that I should burst it!).

The only other foot ailments are the bruised little toe nail caused by the now-departed toe-eating shoes and a numbness of the underside of the big toe on my right foot. I seem to recall having read of someone else who had the same numbness affliction. I recall not whether it's a permanent condition or whether I can expect the feeling back at some point in the future. Either way, there are worse things that can happen than a bit of numbness in a toe.

Mixing feet and food, I'm pleased to say that we're not wasting away yet. In fact, I've been eating so much that with 200 miles down I wouldn't be surprised if I've put on weight.

The average day sees us consume first breakfast, second breakfast, elevenses, lunch, afternoon tea and tea!

On the subject of food all of our dehydrated meals have worked very well. Thanks to the tip given by Peewiglet on a forum a few years ago, which tip related to the mixing of Beanfeast and mash, we've found that both Shepherd and lentil stew are very tasty when mixed with Smash. You just have to make sure that you don't pay too much heed to what it looks like!

Husband declared that Thai Green Turkey and Smash was a slightly less successful combination...

Day 13 - Tiverton to Sampford Peverell

27 April
Distance: 6.5 miles (plus about 0.5 around Tesco!)
Number of other walkers seen: Approx 125

It's amazing how fast the body recovers from a battering. After 3 consecutive 19 mile days, the bulk of which have been on hard surfaces, my feet were making their feelings known last night.

Throughout our Thai meal they protested. In bed they protested. Waking up this morning they vaguely grumbled. After a cooked breakfast they were, if not raring to go, then at least prepared to cover 6.5 miles.

With the lack of a small grocery store on our route through Tiverton we made for the big Tesco where we piled on the miles as we wandered rather aimlessly up and down its aisles.

With significantly heavier packs we found our way to a cycle route which follows the path of a disused railway before picking up the Grand Western Canal, which in turn would convey us to our destination.

Along the cycle route (paved at first, boo hiss!) we saw two women walking towards us wearing matching t-shirts. We rounded the next bend and all we could see were people walking towards us in those same t-shirts.

Eventually, after an awful lot of helloing, I had to stop someone to ask. It was a sponsored walk, 4 miles in length, in aid of Marie Curie. From what we saw they had a good turnout.

Passing a sign that informed us that it was an offence under the Public Health Act to exercise a donkey on that path, we left the disused railway and joined the canal.

A brief detour was made at Halberton, per my plotted route, to miss out a loop taken by the canal. Despite the short section of moderately busy road it was a good move as without it we would not have seen the old Priory, the owners of which have put a few information signs outside explaining the works that they are doing to restore it and, more particularly, its gardens.

We were nearly upon Sampford Peverell when our singing of rounds of 'row row row your boat' (caused by having seen a rowing boat, predictable enough) was interrupted by a voice behind us asking "are you really walking Britain?".

Without the chat that ensued, we likely would have wandered into the first pub we found in Sampford Peverell. As a result of that chat we followed the recommendation and headed to The Globe. It was the words 'good ale' that did it.

A pint of Otter Bitter (being the girly lightweight that I am these days my beer selection criterion is: the weakest ale available) is being supped as I type this. Our afternoon session will be just half a mile long and upon arriving at our destination it's fingers crossed that our supply parcel has arrived. Never mind the food, we need those ferrules...

Day 12 - Yeoford to Tiverton

26 April
Distance: 19 miles
No. of yappy Yorkshire Terriers that gave chase: 1

With the skies promising a lovely sunny day we set out from Yeoford bright and early, with our feet refreshed and the spring back in our steps.

Lanes took us to Crediton where our lack of food situation was resolved. Armed with food, we were standing in the street trying to work out where to put two bananas, when a woman came to us and asked whether we were walking for charity. We confirmed that we were and she thrust £2 into Husband's hand - then she continued on her way as we shouted our thanks after her. With the £10 given to us by Winnie at the B&B as we left, it was looking like a good day for Macmillan.

Once done faffing in Crediton it was more lanes and a few footpaths (including having to climb over a locked gate and ignore 'strictly private' signs on what we were absolutely cetain was the line of a ROW) to Thorverton.

Most of the villages that we've passed through in Devon have been quite lovely, but Thorverton was a cut above.

The stream running down the side of the road, next to the stone cobbled pavements was picturesque, but then we reached the green just at noon which felt like a good time for a shoe-off break. The immaculately trimmed grass was very well endowed with benches which looked towards the wide stream in between two stone bridges. With the sun shining on us we could have stayed there much longer than the 20 minutes we allowed.

It was from Thorverton that we picked up the Exe Valley Way and enjoyed some stunning and far reaching views up and down the valley. Plenty of photos were taken and as I turned back to the direction of travel after snapping away at the view behind us I exclaimed "It's that house - even the car is beside it" (for anyone who doesn't know the significance I'll explain with picture and links when we get home).

Another break would have been nice before we reached Bickleigh; the sun was on us, we were getting hot and we'd tackled rather a long and sustained uphill section. However, Husband was out of water which was forcing us to ignore the protesting feet and carry on.

The pub on the way into Bickleigh appeared not a moment too soon and after a sojourn inside glugging lime and soda we crossed the road to a picnic site for a further stop for bread, cheese and melted chocolate. It made for a long lunch and that was welcome.

The afternoon session (which didn't start until after 3pm) was also alongside the Exe but this time with mud under our feet. It was quite an interesting walk, particularly when we left the main path and found oursevles clambering over and under fallen trees!

By the time we approached Tiverton the effects of 12 consecutive days of walking were showing. Red hot pokers were sticking through my feet and I was mightily glad to get to our destination.

Being in another B&B tonight (it's been a week with a lack of campsites) tea was had in a Thai. It seemed rather appropriate that the message in my fortune cookie told me "You are going to have a great adventure"!

I now sit here with tiredness upon me. However, tomorrow is a very easy day. 6.5 miles with neglible ascent. The other good news is that the worst of the lane walking is now behind us. From hereon canals and footpaths start to run in the right directions and we will take full advantage.

Warren's Farm

Each day when we reach our destination we look at our route for the following day and look at the accommodation plan for the next five or so days, in case there's anywhere that we need to phone.

A few days ago we saw that our planned campsite in Crediton had a question mark next to it.

A phone call confirmed that it did exist but also informed us that it didn't have any facilities. The thought of a 21.25 mile day without a hot shower at the end of it didn't greatly appeal, so I set Vic (who, along with my sister, is doing a sterling job of providing remote support) onto the challenge of finding us a B&B on our route and preferably a couple of miles before our intended destination.

She came up with Warren's Farm in Yeoford, and it turned out to be a place that deserves a post all of its own.

We arrived at this 400 year old cob-built long house yesterday afternoon with very weary feet. A very warm welcome awaited us and after showing us our vast room (huge bed, lots of antique furniture and like the rest of the house lots of character) Winnie, our host, invited us downstairs to the dining room for a cup of tea.

She appeared not only with a hug pot of tea, containing four cups apiece, but also with scones, jam and (to Husband's rapturous delight) clotted cream. Husband has been hankering after a cream tea since we set out, yet we never seem to hit cream tea vendors at appropriate times.

Having drunk the entire pot of tea and lapped up the scones we sank, with audible ooophs, into the very soft armchairs at our disposal.

A hot shower was followed by the thickest fluffiest towels known to man. We thought we'd landed in heaven, and yet it just kept getting better.

The local pub (once again a very nice pub with normal people in it; twice in one day!) was stumbling distance down the road and after food and ale we returned to our room and sank into the sumptuous bed.

I already knew by this point that this B&B was a real find and that I would have to rave about it - then it got even better again.

The other B&Bs in which we have stayed so far have started serving breakfast at 8am, but have obliged with our request for a slightly earlier 7.45 sitting. At Warren's breakfast is served from 6.30, which meant that we could be up at our usual time and out walking at a reasonable hour (a good thing with a 19 mile day ahead of us).

We walked into the dining room this morning to find a beautifully set table - but it wasn't that which made us go ooh. That was the roaring fire in the grate.

So we sat in front of the roaring fire, making our choice between the ten different cereals on offer before being given three different types of toast and our cooked breakfasts, including homemade hash browns and eggs from their own chickens.

And the cost for all of this? £30 each.

This isn't just a B&B that I would recommend that you use if you happen to be in Yeoford in need of accommodation. In this case I would recommend that you go out of your way to stay there. It would be a strange person who would be disappointed.

Day 11 - Sourton Downs to Yeoford

25 April
Distance: 18.5ish miles
No. of vaguely killeresque dogs: 1

Our campsite last night was situated within 100yds of the A30. For the purposes of traffic noise we may just as well have pitched the tent on the central reservation.

Perhaps it was surprising, given those circumstances, that the noise didn't bother me at all. I was asleep within thirty seconds of turning on my audio book (I did briefly wake to turn it off some time later) and was dead to the world until the alarm woke me at 6am.

I was one tired girl, and I set out this morning with heavy legs and many a yawn. It felt distinctly like a 'day 3' sort of a day, which was a bit unexpected on Day 11.

The first 3.5 miles of our day were not worthy of note. A traffic free ex-rly route was better than a road, and the flatness meant that we made good inroads into our mileage, but the tarmac was less than welcome. A slate shingle surface would have been a much happier situation.

At Okehampton we finally got some mud under our feet on woodland tracks, and a while later we started skirting the edge of Dartmoor on a very picturesque (and very muddy) riverside path. It was the most tenuous of tasters of Dartmoor but I liked what I saw. We must return and indulge in the rarity of lawful English wild-camping.

Leaving Dartmoor a quick detour was made to Sticklepath to remedy Husband's omission to put any water in his bladder before we left Sourton and whilst we were there we had tea and elevenses to supplement our first and second breakfasts.

More paths and tracks and plenty of ooohworthy houses (they like their thatch in these parts, don't they?) brought us to Spreyton where a lack of food in our packs made us happy to find that the pub marked on the map not only existed but was open. By how busy it was on a Friday lunchtime it seemed that we had fallen on our feet.

Talking of our feet, having walked over 12 miles before lunch with only a few brief stops (none of the shoe-off variety) our feet were feeling pounded and were protesting at the news that they still had 6 miles to go.

Beer, and sandwiches containing a good pound of cheese (in my case) and a pound of ham (in Mick's), plus the sit down revived us greatly and we continued on our way (all on lanes this afternoon) almost with a spring in our step.

The view down to Yeoford made 'last half mile syndrome' kick in good and proper and it was a relief to be able to sink into a comfy chair at our destination.

Without wanting to make it sound like we're now in pub-crawl mode, we're now sitting in another very fine pub (the Mare & Foal, I do believe it's called), supping yet more real ale.

("Do you have any vegetarian meals" I asked. "I'll ask the chef" replied the bar person. Next we hear the cry "Vegetarian? Vegetarian? Who would want something vegetarian?". The serving wench tried to have the chef lower his voice and pointed out that
there was a veggie in their midst. The locals are still talking loudly about the phenomenon although I note that I've started a rush on the hastily thought up veggie option.)

Thanks to the miracle of Gehrwol(sp?) Foot Cream, we're even feeling like we can tackle tomorrow's 19 miles.

(BTW: regarding my earlier post and just for the avoidance of doubt (mainly for the benefit of PT who will think that my standards have slipped), I do know that there is not a second 'e' in Messrs. Unfortunately using the method of blogging that I am I can't correct typos once I've made them.)

Day 11 - Lunchtime

Messers Tolhurst, Hartley and Sloman, to name but a few, would be pleased to be where I am right now.

I'm sitting at the bar in the Tom Cobley in Spreyton, where a startling selection of 19 ales is on offer.

For the first time in our walk we've found a really nice pub, where all of the people seem normal.

I have a pint of Bays Best in my hand and a sandwich on its way. The chap we've been chatting to is a Wolves fan.

Outside of the door is a very quaint village full of thatched cottages.

Add to that the factor of a splendid morning of walking, and I think that most would agree that it's a fine way to spend a day.

Day 10 - Launceston to Sourton Downs

24 April
Distance: about 18 miles
No. of killer dogs: 1 (although Husband claims it was friendly)

What a good day of walking!

It started on lanes, which led us to the River Tamar which was significant as it marks the boundary between Cornwall and Devon. A photo was duly taken (I'm sure we won't be so enthusiastic about other county borders) then we struck out across fields.

The morning was all fields and lanes as we followed the Two Castles Way, which thankfully turned out to be reasonably well waymarked. Waymarking hasn't been an issue until now (and shouldn't be from now either) as everywhere we find ourselves crossing farmland I have 1:25k maps which clearly show us where to go. For reasons unknown I omitted to print any for today.

Now, as many of you will already know, there's a chap called Daryl May who last year walked LEJOG and is currently walking JOGLE. You'll find his account over at mylongwalk.com. I really wanted to catch up with Daryl as he passed by the Midlands and having missed him there really wanted to pass him on route. Today was the day when our paths crossed. Unfortunately, whereas we were on the Two Castles Trail, Daryl was on West Devon Drive and I wanted to walk along a road about as much as Daryl wanted to yomp across muddy fields.

There was just one point in the day when our paths could cross and it was a bit of a long-shot as it was about half way through our day but much earlier in Daryl's. Just as a heavy shower hit us (it was a day of sunshine and showers and at one point even hail) I spoke to Daryl briefly and learned that we had missed him by some margin. That was a real shame and made me think we should have taken the foot punishment of the road route (it would have been a lot shorter than our meandering route too).

As the day wore on we yearned for a pub, but luck was not with us. Both of those we passed (the first having the appearance of a real dive, the second being a glorious example of a thatched inn) were closed.

Variations to our planned route have become common as when we look at the route on paper (rather than on the computer screen on which I plotted it) better routes become obvious. So far those routes have been either the same distance as the original or longer, but definitely nicer. Today a far more sensible route jumped off the page at us that was not only shorter but also very pleasant indeed, including lots of nice paths and tracks through bird filled woodland and alongside babbling streams.

As we reached the edge of Dartmoor we took to the disused rly line, which involved crossing an impressive viaduct of which I would have taken a photo a mile previous had I realised we were to cross it.

The cycle route along the former rly line was a lovely setting. It was just a shame about the tarmac surface.

It led us to our campsite for the night where we were met with the nighmare scenario of the words 'fully booked for a caravan rally'. I duly batted my eyelids, smiled winsomely and said that we only needed a very small patch of grass whereupon we were offered the owner's front lawn or the grass in front of the 'campers BBQ area'. We chose the latter.

Even better our pitch is about 20 paces from a pub (another pub stuck in the 1970s) which has not only provided a passable glass of wine but also a table on which to type.

Briefly Online

After ten days without internet access, I've managed to find myself briefly on-line this afternoon - so I've been able to read all of your comments. Unfortunately I don't have time to respond to you all individually, but I do thank you all for those comments - it is nice to have some feedback!

I've also been able to see how much I've been writing. The Pocketmail is a fantastic device, but because of the size of the screen, I had no idea how much I'd been writing. The answer is: more than I thought! Just goes to show how easy it is to type on the device.

Day 9 - Five Lanes, Alturnun to Launceston

23 April
Distance: 9.5 miles
Number of killer dogs: 1 (a chocolate lab; shouldn't labs be friendly?)

The Kings Head (no apostrophe, apparently) Hotel in Five Lanes was quiet on a Tuesday night. We were the only guests and we were the only people eating there, although there were a few others propping up the bar.

It provided us with a comfy bed, a very large evening meal, a very large breakfast and the heating got our washing dry, so we were happy.

There was a change of plan for today. When we inspected the route I'd plotted (as we tend to do each night) we found that not only did it at one point (by necessity) follow three sides of a square but one of those sides was an A road. An A road for a couple of km is not a satisfactory place to be walking.

An alternative route was quite obvious once I looked (the benefit of looking at a map on paper rather than on a computer screen). Although it removed about a kilometer of fields and replaced them with tarmac, that tarmac was a very quiet lane that followed a green valley side, overlooking (where the hedgerows permitted) the sun drenched patchwork of more green fields variously containing cows, sheep and even goats (complete with very cute kids).

An early part of our route followed a little of the Inny Valley Way. It didn't appear to be a well trodden route (except by cows; they'd caused some interesting mud obstacles for us to overcome) but for the most part it was very well waymarked with well maintained stiles.

It was at the point where we left the Inny Valley Way that we spotted something just off the path. It turned out to be a Geocache, which of course begged for an inspection of its contents, having done which it seemed rude not to leave a little note in the book ourselves.

On arriving at the edge of Launceston at 1pm, almost at the end of our nice short day, my first priority was to find a post office. I've carried my redundant toe-eating shoes for long enough, so they were packaged up and mailed away, reducing the weight of my pack by 800g in the process (although some of that was promptly negated by the purchase of a copy of TGO magazine which will probably remain in my pack for a couple of days until I leave it somewhere for someone else to read).

And now we're at Rose Cottage B&B, a pleasant establishment in an elevated position looking down at Launceston. It's our second B&B in as many nights and due to a dearth of campsites hereabouts, there'll be two more later in the week. We'll be getting quite spoiled by these comfy beds and warm rooms!

Week 1 - Land's End to St Mabyn

Distance:

One week gone and my goodness how fast it went. I've wondered whether time goes as fast when you're walking as it does when you're reading the daily account of someone else's adventure and the answer is that yes it does.

By way of a bit of a 'first week gear review':

Tent: Given how cold some of the nights have been, I think that we were right to bring Vera Voyager. Even she has struggled to cope with the low temperature and the lack of breeze on some nights.

Bushbuddy: Things started well with the Bushbuddy. We used it the first three days and were getting into quite a routine involving cups of tea and evening meals in one lighting. With the help of tinder paper I've really got to grips with lighting it too. Alas, then the wet weather started and it's just sat in my pack the last few days. Even if we found dry wood I don't fancy sitting outside in the rain to light a fire. As a result we've now used up our first canister of gas.

Shoes: In case I overstated the shoe situation the other day, I'm not on the point of disaster with the shoes yet. On day 1 left foot suddenly became too big for my Salomon's, which I've worn quite successfully for the last eight months. They'll be heading back home next time we pass an open post office. Fortunately I'm now liking the Roclites a lot. Fingers crossed that the heels last a few more miles yet.

Hair: loving the lack of hair. Contrary to what I said before, I may actually keep it this way.

Husband: He has a beard! The 40 day razor lies unused in his pack.

Other kit: Except for a few emergency/first aid items, everything in my pack has been used. Contrary to common practice of sending things home at this stage as unnecessary weight I have actually addd a couple of things to my pack. I'm happy on a short trip to use my MSR Kettley Thing as a mug, but with the Bushbuddy found that a separate mug was useful and more efficient, so a plastic mug has been added. A notepad was also found to be an omission which has now been rectified.