A Walk To Westward Ho! And Back

When we first went to Westward Ho! last Saturday we had thought it would be fun to walk there from Appledore on the South West Coast Trail, and today we did that. The weather report said that it would be a mixture of sunny breaks and rain showers however, so we packed our raingear as well as our swimsuits. We made sure the eboys both had their walking shoes on, instead of Crocs, but we had barely made it to the playground at the far end of the Quay when Will began to complain of hot feet. "Let's just be smart and turn around right now and get him his Crocs," said Kate. "Anything would be better than hearing about his hot feet for six hours!" So we did that, and with Will happily skipping along in his Crocs, we headed off.

As you leave Appledore to the north you go down yet another pretty street lined with cleverly painted houses that we had not yet seen: Irsha Street. We saw some new colours: lavender, purple and darker green. At its end was the RNLI lifeboat station, and then roads ended and the path continued as a muddy track right above the sea. Tide was thoroughly out, at full ebb, so we were skirting around a vast area of mud identified on the map as the Skarn. When the path divided into High Tide and Low Tide alternate routes, we took the High Tide one because the mud did not look appealing to us. Both routes united at the Northam Burrows County park: 'burrows' seems to be a common name for dunes here.

A friendly attendant at the park gate asked if we'd been here before and recommended we walk straight across the area towards an interpretive centre on the far side. The map showed a golf course in the way, but when I asked if that would be a problem he just shrugged his shoulders. And it was the strangest golf course: it was a sheep field, the grass thickly littered with sheep droppings, and yet it also had tees, fairways, and holes, not to mention sand traps. To Kate's great interest, sheep were being herded into pens by two people and two dogs: we got to watch the dogs racing back and forth doing their work, and doing it very well.

At the interpretive centre we climbed a long berm of cobbles and at its top we heard and saw the sea. Before us was a long stretch of sand out to the water, perhaps 300 metres, and to our right and left it stretched on for kilometres. Westward Ho! was visible down to the left. There were almost no people about: a few were walking dogs. We sat down and lunched.

For a long time, Galen and Will drew things with sticks on the immense canvas of the clean sand. There were occasional peeps of sun, but on the whole it was windy and cloudy, the wind from the sea (northwest) and the clouds apparently moving in from the land (southwest). Far out to sea a thick bank of cloud was visible beyond blue sky. Then the boys decided it was time for swimming, changed into trunks and headed for the shallow surf. I put on my suit too and joined them, although I was only brave enough to go in up to my hips. It was screamingly cold, except when the occasional mysterious warm current would wash around our feet. Most of the waves came from straight out, but there was also a small supply of waves coming from the left, as if they'd bounced off a headland beyond Westward Ho!. Kate wisely watched from the safety of the shallows.

When finally chilled, we dressed, packed up and hiked down to Westward Ho! to investigate the mini-golf. To us who have played mini-golf across North America, it was a fairly unimaginative course: 9 pretty straightforward holes for £7.50, but the boys played in such a civilized manner that I couldn't have been happier. (Mini-golf in our family is sometimes the occasion of a breakdown of good behaviour.) Kate wisely (again) took a walk and explored while we did this.

We had agreed to meet at the RNLI lifeguard truck on the beach, but when we went to go there, there was no lifeguard truck! There was no beach! The tide had come up so high that the entire beach was gone, and the lifeguard truck was parked up on the ramp (Kate next to it), and the lifeguards were out surfing. We bought ices, and Kate, unusually, argued for chips and hot chocolate as well. While we ate these in the lee of some big rocks it began to rain in earnest.

In full raingear we hiked north out of town on the Pebble Ridge, which is the actual name of the berm of cobbles that runs behind the beach. It was like a backpacking trip when hiking in bad weather you lose touch with your buddies: adjusting your hood to screen your face from the driving rain, and watching your footing on piles of wet round rocks. When the rain stopped, we found ourselves in an area where round depressions had been scooped out of the summit of the ridge, as if people had been making shelters for tents or fires or picnicking. Each was about two feet deep and ten feet in diameter. We stopped in one: it was warm to be out of the wind in there. The thing is that they were quite close to each other: one every ten yards or so, so either there are typically a heck of a lot of picnickers, or there is some other explanation.

Once we left the Pebble Ridge and headed back across the golf course, it got hot. The sheep had been released and spent a lot of time baa-ing at us. There were also golfers to avoid. At the Coast Path, even though it was fully high tide now, we took the Low Tide trail: we could see now where it went and it was both above water and non-muddy.

Coming back into Appledore we visited the RNLI lifeboat station. RNLI stands fr the Royal National Lifeboat Institution, and its a charity rather than some arm of the government or military. Kate was so inspired by their stories of rescue that she's decided to join as a supporter. (If we lived here she said she'd be volunteering too, but only for on-shore duties.) Kate also has her eye on a pale green bit of house on Irsha Street that is for sale: it looks like it has a commanding view of the estuary out the back.

Bought a cod & chips for Galen at Sylvester's (no line!) as we came through the centre of Appledore. It was so big we were able to feed the entire family on it. When we got home Kate took in the laundry, and as we ate dinner it poured rain outside. But just a shower again: soon the sun was shining. We hung the laundry inside the house.