The sun re-emerged today after two days of hiding and lit up the Devon countryside as we began our walk this morning. I think that’s why I enjoyed the walk today much more than yesterday, despite the fact it was around twice as long, at some 14 miles.
After a lovely stay at the Mitre Inn in Witheridge we were driven back to Morchard Bishop to resume the walk from where we had finished the previous afternoon. From there it took us until about 1.30 pm to walk the seven or eight miles back to Witheridge, across fields, through little copses, along tree lined tracks and lanes.
After a few miles, we passed another of the fascinating little churches that line the route. This one, the church of St. Peter at Washford Pyne, was on the site of a church dating back to the 13th century, although the current version is a reconstruction following a fire in 1880.
Just before we reached Witheridge, we had a threatening encounter with a herd of large bullocks. They charged towards us, but my friend Keith’s stern shouts stopped them long enough for us to get out through the gate before they changed their minds. Though has happened to me a few times now- it’s an almost inevitable occasional hazard as a walker- it’s still unnerving even if the chances are that the animals will stop at the last minute rather than stampede.
Witheridge itself is full of thatched cottages. In fact every little village of hamlet in this part of Devon seems to have at least a few, and I don’t think I’ve seen so many before (admittedly I’ve never visited the Cotswolds). Each is different, and they really are the epitome of what you expect of a perfect English country village.
In the afternoon a long stretch along country lanes towards a wind farm was followed by a wide shady track underneath arching trees. We ended with a lengthy section of boardwalks saving us from the worst of the mud to reach open common and our final destination, a remote farm.
We knew that we weren’t getting any food tonight as it seems to be a local thing round here that pubs shut on Mondays, and the farmer had warned us to bring our own food, which we did. Not was I really surprised at the lack of Wi-Fi, as it is a bit remote here and the couple running the place were clearly a little old to worry about such things. I was a little put out, though, that my bath plug had a gaping hole in it though particularly as there was no shower. Luckily, my friend Keith let me make use of his ‘private’ bathroom down the hall.
But nevertheless it was a chance to rest and read ( at least once one of our noisier neighbouring boarders had quietened down!) After all, why stay in a lovely quaint thatched farmhouse if you expect all mod cons .
Across the Alps to the Adriatic 