Skimming through the South West

A few days ago we left family and friends and began our migration southwards. From Somerset to the south coast we have travelled to catch the ferry to Santander from Plymouth.

Being back on the road after a month of visiting friends and staying with family, the time had come to start our journey once again. After being within four walls and (mostly) in normal beds, we were back in the tent. To ease ourselves into the trip, we booked our first night at a campsite, to make sure that we had remembered how to set up the tent and get back into the routine. To note, wild camping is illegal in England so, unlike Scotland if we do wild camp we have to be stealthy with our spots and make sure we are hidden. This adds a certain stress to proceedings.

This late in the season, it gets dark early so you’re unlikely to be spotted if you’re off the beaten path but the dogs can find you on their last walk of the day. Our next night was in a woodland where we found a clear patch and listened to the sound of the wind wicking through the trees above. A quiet and peaceful evening.

The third night was much more ‘lively’. After an incredibly hilly day (thank you Devon) we were getting tired and the light was starting to go. We had asked a walker a little earlier where we might camp and they suggested a walking route where we may find a spot. They were right. We found a patch of wood up on an embankment with a path below us on one side and a road below us on the other, and set up the tent. During our evening wash/wipe down, a torch-light flashed and a black spaniel appeared. We thought we were going to be rumbled but the dog ran back down the steep bank and left us alone. Once cosy in bed we saw some flashes which turned out to be lightening and a huge thunderstorm with torrential rain passed over. The tent held up and we stayed dry. Thinking we were going to then get some sleep, we bedded down for the evening…

Around 30 mins later there was a clattering and flashing orange lights all around us. Then we heard more vehicles arrive and I checked OneNetwork (a very useful site for roadworks) which highlighted the road section we’d camped alongside as having an overnight road closure for tree works. Having worked in a job involving highway tree safety works, I knew that this could mean quite substantial felling immediately next to our tent. Sam crawled out of the tent to speak to the gaffer to check if we were in the way. Thankfully, they had completed the work on ‘our’ side of the road and were just finishing up across the road. The chipper was so loud and only a couple of metres from our tent, with a chainsaw going too. Around 2 hours later, they finished the job and one by one we heard the highways and works vehicles depart with the sound of the chainsaw and chipper in the near distance. Gradually we sank to sleep, trying to put the eventful evening behind us!

Devon has lived up to its hype and given us lots of narrow, quiet lanes but with plenty of steep hills. Nothing like Norway but a good warm up for some of the climbs that northern Spain will offer us. ‘Tis apple season and free fruits have been a constant and we’ve collected goodies from the side of the road, offered up by generous locals.

For those who cycle in the countryside you’ll know that it’s also hedge-cutting season. We’ve met several tractors in action and the lanes have been littered with hedge debris. Some spiky, some not. With tubeless and new tyres, we’ve not been affected but there has been some careful riding around some obviously thorny twigs. The Somerset Levels added in a whole other level of road quality with tarmac laid over soft peat which moves and distorts, resulting in a rollercoaster ride on what would otherwise be a flat route.

The weather has become more autumnal with scattered rain showers so we’ve had a sequence of coat on, coat off, coat on, coat off. We’ve learnt to relax into this. In the past, Sam has often been a bit slow getting his poncho on, assuming the rain would pass, only to get soaked and then cold.

Exeter and the surrounds were a hive of house building and our route was briefly blocked by a new development beside a busy road. With the shared pedestrian/cycle way fenced off, we were directed by a sign along an uphill diversion which turned out to be a dead end. A quick chat with the some of the foremen uncovered no diversion and we re-traced our steps (back down hill) to rejoin the main road. Thanks to the kind driver behind us who gave us plenty of room as we slogged up the hill to the next junction and on our way.

Again, we’ve chatted to lots of friendly folk asking us about our trip and have been made to feel very welcome in this part of the UK. On the flip side, the flag-ageddon have obviously been out in force around some of these parts. Something we wont miss as we head south.

We had a hotel night in Plymouth and got a few provisions (like some replacement waterproof socks for Sam). Then today, we met up with one of Sam’s lifelong pals, Grinner, in Plymouth. He kindly came up to hug us goodbye, bringing a replacement part up for my pannier (Sam snapped one of my Tailfin straps inadvertently when moving my bike the other night). We had a great lunch together and spent a bit of time admiring the old buildings before escorting him back to the train station.

We enjoyed Plymouth. Coming from Cornwall, Sam had been to Plymouth a fair bit in his youth but he hadn’t remembered it being so nice. We left it with fond memories.