Monday, June 6
Exmouth to Sidmouth, 15.4 Miles
We awoke after a great night’s sleep, had a very good breakfast but very early breakfast and were on our way. We had a long day’s walking ahead of us–a bit more than 15 miles–and a rather early dinner reservation in Sidmouth with our friends Cindy and Gary H. We started out on the first of many esplanades along the sea; Exmouth’s is rather quiet, with a couple of restaurants but no honky tonk, but very long: over two miles of seafront!
At the end of the esplanade the path switchbacks up onto our first cliff, the National Trust administered High Land of Orcombe. We soon came to the rather strange “Geoneedle,” marking the “official” start of the Jurassic Coast.
As we walk from west to east, we are treading over rock that is getting ever younger–millions of years younger! Our days between Exmouth and Lyme Regis are over the red rocks of the Triassic Period (starting with 250 million years old); from Lyme Regis to Pinhay Bay we are walking on Jurassic rock (200 years old); and from Pinhay to the end of our walk, we enter the white cliffs of the Cretaceous Period (from 145 to 60 million years old). Just to get the geography out of the way!
Here, near Haven in East Devon, are our first Triassic cliffs.
The walking here is easy and very beautiful, with the sea on our right and rolling hills and fields on our left.
Until, that is, we encounter the first example of a non-geological feature that plagues this coast: massive trailer parks, or holiday caravan sites in English parlance. This first one is really unimaginably massive; there must have been a thousand units spilling up out of the valley above the beach at Sandy Bay. The image below gives some idea of the sprawl; at the far left is an additional picturesque feature of this stretch of coastline: a military firing range! OK, we’re prejudiced, but is this a holiday? Stacked on top of several thousand of your closest friends, accompanied by the sounds of warfare at no extra charge. A woman with whom we chatted in a pub a couple of days later was staying with friends in one of these things. A friend had paid $100,000 for…a trailer.
Enough quetsching; I promise I won’t rant about another caravan. And that last view was taken from near the top of a spectacular cliff, the West Down Beacon. We were soon over the top and walking down toward the little resort town of Budleigh-Salterton, which lies just beyond the point behind Sue.
The vegetation here was unlike anything we would see on our walk: windswept scrub.
The little town seemed the perfect spot to indulge in our favorite walking ritual in England’s southwest: a cream tea. Fortified by scones, clotted cream, and jam, it was then back on the path for us.
Along the Promenade, one passes something unexpected. The vertical white veins here are the fossilized roots of plants from the Triassic.
Budleigh-Salterton sits at the mouth of the River Otter; it had once been called Ottermouth. In order to continue along the coast, the walker is taken inland around the Otter Estuary Nature Reserve. The estuary is dotted with blinds for bird watchers and makes for a pleasant, if somewhat annoying stroll…we were eager to be back seaside!
The view below looks back over the estuary to Budleigh-Salterton and the West Down Beacon.
The path then rolls with unexpected leniency over the ominously named Black Head and Brandy Head. At the top of Brandy Head sits a World War II observation hut, which now serves upon demand as a shelter for walkers. We had had the path more or less to ourselves between Exmouth and Budleigh-Salterton, but, after the estuary, we were accompanied by a great many day walkers. The benches on the porch of the observation hut were actually full to bursting.
We soon had our first glimpse of the goal for today, the town of Sidmouth lying just beyond the near point.
That point is Smallstone Point; here is a better look at the sea cave below the point.
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From atop the cliff we got our first look at the end of the stage: the enormous cliff that dominates the middle of the photo is High Peak. Hidden behind it is the even higher Peak Hill.
Before we had the pleasure of climbing those monsters, though, we descended into the gorgeous Ladram Bay. The photo emphasizes the sea stacks and tries to hide the caravan park that spreads up the Combe above the beach!
We had now walked a bit more than ten miles–on our first day–and I was feeling it. We stopped for a bit of a rest before the rigors to come. High Peak set the pattern for the path up the really big cliffs: often starting at sea level, the initial climb tended to be rather lenient. But almost every major cliff is surmounted by a cap with much steeper gradients. In this case, the path went straight up the side (some of the even steeper caps would have switchbacks).
Here we are approaching the top of High Peak.
Once over the top, the path descended rather gradually, contouring the back side of the cliff with farmland to our left. Once down into a valley at about 250 feet, we then went up the even steeper slopes onto Peak Hill. We survived that with fuel in the tank to spare and were soon walking through woods and fields toward Sidmouth.
With a feeling of real relief–we had made it, and even Wonder Woman admitted to being a bit weary–we came to the edge of town. At which time I discovered a major blunder. I take real pleasure in making all the arrangements for these walks, and we have had very good luck with our accommodations every time (both in Scotland and in Cornwall). I hadn’t looked carefully enough, though, at tonight’s lodgings. While the inn, the Balfour Arms, was very nice, it actually wasn’t in Sidmouth proper, but a mile and a half north of town. That was a bridge too far for my legs, and we called a cab for the last bit!
We settled in and then took another cab into town to meet Cindy and Gary (who, sensibly enough, were staying right on the seafront). We had a wonderful meal at a casual little restaurant called Pea Green Boat. Each couple shared an enormous grilled Brill with a lemon and caper sauce…heaven!