To the natural wonders of Devon and Cornwall
Barnstaple used to be an important railway junction. It had three stations. Next to the still existing line to Exeter Central there was a direct connection to Bristol via Norton Fitzwarren and Taunton and there were three different lines to the coast resorts of Bideford, Ifracombe and Linemouth Bay. The line to Bideford continued eventually to Okehampton and from there looped back to Exeter Central. On the way this line gave access to numerous branch lines. One was the line from Halwill junction to Bude, also a popular coastal resort.
Exeter station
A friend moved to a little village 14 km from Bude. There is a bus stop on the highway nearby, but the infrequent buses go to Bude and Hartland, both not destinations connecting to long distance services from the direction of London, Exeter or Bristol. From there the only possibility is to take the train to either Okehampton, 53 km away, or Barnstaple, 41 km away, and ask the friend to come and pick me up.
The Barnstaple line enjoys some fame in literature. Both Paul Theroux in the 1970’ies and Bill Bryson in the 1990’ies traveled on them and commented on the desolate state. Paul Theroux joined the railway buffs which rode the train in a kind of attempt of necrophiliac nostalgia. In his view the line was doomed. Poor Bill Bryson did not have a friend in the area and had to take the train even twice since the onward connections by bus out of Barnstaple were so miserable that he rather retraced his steps.
Old tiles in the crossing to the platforms in Exeter
I have to change trains in Exeter St. Davids. I arrive on a GWR express which is slightly late. I am concerned since there is only a short transfer time. But after we arrive it turns out that the train to Barnstaple is late. A lot of people are waiting. When Bill Bryson took this train around 30 years ago he had problems to find the right train in Exeter. Obviously nobody having any authority at Exeter St. Davis station or GWR has read his book since it is still difficult to find out which train leaves where at this station since several trains seem to not only leave from the same platform, but also in different directions.
While waiting for the train, Bill Bryson had spare time to observe the pigeons on the platform:
“They really are the most amazingly panicky and dopey creatures. I couldn’t imagine an emptier, less satisfying life. Here are instructions for being a pigeon: 1. Walk around aimlessly for a while, pecking at cigarette butts and other inappropriate items, 2. Take fright at someone walking along the platform and fly off to a girder, 3. Have a shit, 4. Repeat.”
Bill Bryson, “Notes from a small island”
While Bill Bryson had time to observe the pigeons there was no space for them today on my platform. They probably resorted to number 2. and 3. above. To make 3. a bit less annoying for the traveler, the management of Exeter St. David station has made a part of the girders inaccessible for pigeons by nets. Eventually a train pulled in which, with high probability judging from the platform, time and unrest of fellow passengers, would be mine to Barnstaple. The British have a sound reputation of exaggerated politeness. The whole world knows about their patience in queuing. When the short train eventually stopped I followed the big crowd of people trying to enter through 4 doors all at the same time.
The railway hub of Barnstaple saw stylish trains as the ‘Atlantic Coast Express’ and the ‘Devon Belle’ and used to have direct connections to Bristol, London, southern Wales and the Midlands. Nowadays the trip of 39 miles from Exeter to Barnstaple takes an hour and 6 minutes. This is a considerable improvement to the time when Bill Bryson was here 30 years ago. It took him more than an hour and a half. It still stops at the famous station of Portsmouth Arms, which mainly serves as access to the local pub. While the track is in a deplorable state the stations are little gems. The buildings are well painted, flours decorate the platforms and everything looks neat and clean. There are toilets. It is clear that they have different priorities around here in what is important for running a railway. The slow amble is not a disadvantage. It leaves some time to enjoy the beautiful scenery of the Tara valley. And there is working wifi, power and USB sockets on the trains so that even the dementedly active children on the carriage calm down after a while.
Platform on the way to Barnstaple
Most of the station area in Barnstaple was changed into a parking lot so big that I have to give my friend precise instructions as how to find me. But from here on it turns out to be of real advantage to have access to a car, in particular as a passenger who can enjoy the landscape and does not have to watch out for those other madman on the road. The scenery is beautiful and my friend does not miss to show me every cove accessible by car on the long coastline towards his home
The beach in Instow
We leave the car on one of the parking lots in Instow. The road parallel to the beautiful beach is choked. Sitting in the sun we have a drink while below us the cars literally roar by: some people think it is amusing for their fellow creatures if they make as much noise as possible. This is either achieved by turning the muffler into a loudspeaker or by adding a sound installation that is bigger than the car. I wonder how a living being can survive in there. The noisy red headed drinkers around us don’t seem to mind. After they get up they stumble to their own cars.
In the streets of Appledore
Instow had a station on the line from Barnstaple to Bideford. A few reminders like the signal box are still there. By ferry it would have given access to Appledore, across the bay, our next destination. By car it is a long drive. Again a big parking lot gives access to a lovely village with alleys too narrow to allow a car to get in. Many of the houses have attractive bay windows which give the owners a chance to show off with some of their favorite possessions like plastic flowers, bottled ships or statues of comely looking virgins. It is customary to take away a huge portion of fish and chips from a shop and eat it with a pint in the pub next door. Those traditional pubs really are irresistible.
The fish and ships shop in Appledore
The pub next door and the toilet paired with a similar facility in Africa
Our next stop is Clovelly. The village drops down along a steep main street towards a picturesque harbor with a fantastic old-fashioned hotel and restaurant. The whole settlement is owned by John Rous who lives on the top of the cliff above the village. He inherited it from his mother in 1983, but the family have managed the village since 1738. John Rous is the only son of Keith Rous, the 5th Earl of Stradbroke and Mary Asquith, granddaughter of former prime minister H. H. Asquith. Tenants of the houses in the village are scrutinized by the owner. Access by car is restricted to the guests of the hotel. Visitors to the village are supposed to pay an entrance fee at the village museum. Since there is no vehicle access to the village, all deliveries still have to be done by sledge. Since the 16th century the village forms a popular backdrop in literature and movies. Turner painted the harbor, Susan Coolidge, Charles Dickens and Kipling wrote about it.
Port and village of Clovelly
The restaurant in the port of Clovelly
Since it is on the South-West coast path Raynor Winn and her husband passed through on the their path of salt. They had no money and no food and had to sleep in the wild. The food in the village pub they could not afford, the visitor center only sold ice cream. The restaurant had pastries but would not sell them since it was already closed. And those not sold after closing time were to be thrown away. Eventually “throwing away” meant they ended up in the back bags of the hikers and they did not have to spend the night on an empty tummy.
The sledges used to bring stuff down the narrow main street
Our next stop is at Hartland Quay. Another lovely hotel and irresistible pub called the wreckers retreat with plenty of space in the parking lot. Like in Clovelly and other places along this coast, a pier was built in the 16th century to ship lime, slate and coal in and barley and oats out. With the arrival of the railway in Bideford the pier was not maintained any more by 1896 storms had destroyed the greater part. After several fatal ship wreckages a life boat station was established. Again the bay formed the backdrop for TV series and films.
The disappeared port of Hartland Quai
260 million years ago the supercontinent Pangaea was formed by collision of the Laurasia and the Gondwana plate. The collision folded the layers of shale and sandstone of the Rheic ocean that were deposited in the carbon period around 320 million years age. The resulting folds can be seen in the cliffs above Hartland Quay while erosion left over parallel ribs of harder stone which now form the undeep part of the shore which becomes exposed at low tide.
The coast of the Hartland peninsula
We arrive at Welcombe Mouth Beach a bit further on at sunset. The sea is calm but some surfers still try their luck. A little cascade plunges down onto the beach. With its constant ups and downs this is the most difficult part of the West coast path. Raynor Winn and her husband Moth enjoyed to have a shower under these water falls to rinse of the mixture of dust, sweat and dirt which had accumulated during their hike and to wash their cloths. Sleeping rough is not well regarded in the UK. Most flat spots are on private land where camping is forbidden. They had to hide their tent as much as possible. At one point in the morning they woke up from a very local rain shower onto a part of their tent and it turned out to stem from a cow. There was not enough water to at the same time clean the tent and prepare tea.
Waterfall at Welcombe Mouth Beach
Moth had a diagnosis for a terminal illness and started out the walk weak and under terrible pain. However, the hardships made him strong again and after months of walking he seemed to have recovered. The recovery was temporary. The pain came back after they stopped walking. There is probably no research on the effects of physical exertion on diseases, but it would be interesting if similar cases are known in the literature.
The next day we visit another similar cove by bike. At Sandymouth Bay Beach a waterfall comes down on both sides of the valley mouth. It is high tide and the sandy part of the beach has disappeared. A parking lot gives access to the beach and a cottage of National trust where we get coffee and cakes.
Sandymouth Bay Beach
Waterfalls
Before the invention of the internal combustion engine the remoteness of this part of the coast has attracted and protected singular characters. Where can they hide today?
Above the coast stands the Church of St Morwenna and St John the Baptist. Parts go back to the 13th century. This is the northernmost parish in Cornwall, but the church is far off any major settlement. Between 1835 to 1874, the church’s vicar was Rev. R. S. Hawker.
The church is decorated for the coronation of Charles
Rev. Hawker was one of those eccentric washed up onto this coast. Strange for a vicar, he dressed in bright colors. Only his socks were black. He also dressed up as a mermaid. He talked to birds, kept a pig as a pet and invited his nine cats into church, but excommunicated one because it caught a mouse on Sunday. In the cliff overlooking the coast he built a small driftwood hut where he wrote poems and letters. It is told that he also used it to secretly smoke opium.
Up the valley from the church he built a vicarage which now is a bed and breakfast. The chimneys model the towers of the churches in his life. When his first wife, Charlotte, died in 1863, he, aged 60, married Pauline Kuczynski, aged 20. They had three daughters.
Hawker's hut is the smallest property of the National trust
From his hut Hawker observed ships in distress in the Bristol Channel. He buried shipwrecked seamen washed up on the shores of the parish, and was often the first to reach the cliffs when there was a shipwreck. The figurehead of one of the luckless ships, the Caledonia, which foundered in September 1842, was originally placed in Morwenstow cemetery and is now on display in the church.
Rev. Hawker wrote about his life: "What a life mine would be if it were all written and published in a book.
View from the hut
Even with an electric bike this part of the coast is difficult to navigate. The slopes are steep and some of the tracks are rough. My friend has got a bike for me from the neighbor and it seems to go on strike in those moments when you need the electrical support most. Eventually we enter a major road again. It is easier to cycle but of course full of traffic. Suddenly a kind of mirage appears on the horizon. A herd of white spaceships or UFO’s seems to have landed on the grassy meadows. When you come closer you notice that the extraterrestrials were rendered harmless by a high fence topped off with barbed razor wire. Cameras make sure they can only escape via the huge parking lot. This is GCHQ.
GCHQ in Bude
If you don’s know what GCHQ is, it stands for Government Communication HeadQuarters. This is the main British intelligence, security and cyber agency. Here close to Bude on the meadows above the coast of Cornwall data is collected which they “believe has intelligence value”. On their website they tell that “Teams at GCHQ Bude engage in the full breadth of GCHQ’s operational work, but with a key focus on maintaining and managing the collection of data, ensuring it is optimised to respond to real-world events and changes in the telecommunications environment“. I say hello to them. They might read this article but I will never know.
Signal box preserved in a private garden
The local hotspot is Bude. The little town is announced by a espalier of holiday parks, resorts, inns and cottages. Until 1966 Bude was connected by rail to Okehampten and Exeter. The Atlantic coast express directly linked Bude to London Waterloo. Today Bude is more distant from the rail network than any other town in England. The former station yard is a huge parking lot for the replacement motorized traffic. Bude has a little, non spectacular castle and a sea pool above a wide sandy beach which disappears at high tide. Even with the sunshine today it is not particularly warm. The lifeguared assures guest that the water of the sea pool went up from 14° to 14.5°. Some still swim up and down their lanes unimpressed.
Bude bay
The sea pool in Bude
Next to the castle and the sea pool Bude’s other reason for fame is the sea lock. The canal was used to ship the sand, which today so delights the tourists coming for the beach, inland. The mineral rich sand was used as fertilizer on the fields of Cornwall. Operation on the canal using inclines was complicated and not very profitable and ended when the railway arrived in 1898. In contrast to the railway the remainders of the canal are still there and even were restored after a storm in 2008.
The lock in Bude
Closest station to Bude now is Okehampton 29 miles away. There is the odd bus taking more than 2 hours. By car it is less than one. Okehampton is close to Dartmoor National Park. One of the access points is Belstone, a quiet and beautiful little village at the base of the moors. From there we walk to some of the Tors which are typical for this landscape.
The village of Belstone
The moors begin at the fringe of the village
The British love to fire away at their beautiful landscape. Hikers like Raynor Winn find out en route that parts of the hiking trail are closed at random because the military is busy training. However, being a closed area probably has protected the remote landscape of the moors more than being declared a National park which attracts an endless number of rowdies arriving by car to be accommodated in parking lots. Fortunately this all seems to be far away in Belstone.
We walk up the nearest tors. In the Permian period granite intruded into sequences of sedimentary rock. These rocks were faulted and folded afterwards. The tors are piles of granite usually left behind on top of ridges where the surrounding sedimentary rock has eroded away.
We climb up into the hills between gorse bushes covered in yellow flowers. The haze has stayed behind in the valley and the air is crisp under the blue morning sky. Puzzled sheep hobble away with their lambs It is a pleasure to walk. It is astonishing that mountains low as here can offer such a sweeping view across the plains with their fields surrounded by hedges. There is nobody else until we come into the next valley and return on a field road back to the village.
The pub in Belstone
It is time for lunch. The village pub “the tors” opens at 12 sharp. Again it is a traditional pub full of atmosphere with a friendly and very communicative owner. Wouldn’t it be a pleasure to stay here for a couple of days spent walking?
Okehampton station
The line from Okehampton back to Exeter was only reopened a year ago. The station of Okehampton is a jewel. There is a cafe, the former goods shed is turned into a youth hostel and a railway museum. The old signal box is as freshly painted as the depot and the well-preserved bridge across the tracks. The friendly atmosphere is enhanced by the old fashioned posters imitating the years 30 woodcut print style travel advertisements. The line is well used and the 14.26 train fills even more on the few stops to Exeter.
The North Devon and Cornwall coasts are very scenic. Places like Bude, Bideford or Ifracomb are popular tourist destinations. Inland Dartmoor and Exmoor National parks are popular hiking destinations. Closing down the lines towards these destinations was induced by more and more tourists taking their cars, but additionally forced all the others who would take the train to use cars too. The consequence is that all those former lovely coastal places are disfigured by huge parking lots and the noise of traffic. Closing roads is no option since there is no alternative. But the tide seems to turn. Some of the branch lines already have reopened and there are initiatives to get the train back.
Link to the previous post:
A farm managed by the National Trust. The endless hedges are managed and cut by the farmers
Sources:
Bill Bryson, Notes from a small island
Raynor Winn, The salt Path
Paul Theroux, The kingdom by the sea
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