Day 32 – Black Head to Dodman Point

The hideous steps between St Austell and Mevagissey were foretold by a chap I talk to on Instagram. Aaall the way down to come aaall the way back up. They're really quite upsetting but they're not actually relentless (I'm looking at you, Dorset). You have flat bits in between, sort of like recovery walks, an [...]

Day 31 – East Combe to Black Head

It's amazing what a difference a flat pitch makes. I slept so well that when the alarm went off I went back to sleep which is very much a Tarrant trick. I'm usually straight up and having to periodically nudge her to remind her that we need to human today. I had colourful dreams about [...]

Day 30 – Portwrinkle to East Combe

Fuck my life what an awful night's sleep. Clearly our definition of acceptably slopey is getting more and more liberal as the trail presents less and less places to camp. The slope we were on meant I didn't even have to wait until I fell asleep before I started slipping down my mat. I spent [...]

Day 29 – Plymouth to Portwrinkle

We figured we might as well have a nice, chilled start to the day, largely because literally any excuse to be a little bit lazy, plus we didn't have to check out until 11am. We treated ourself to a lie in until 7am, which is vastly more respectable than our usual 5am because we've pitched [...]

Day 28 – Bovisand Beach to Plymouth

It was meant to be sunny when we woke up but it was still very much wet and windy. Thanks, Met Office. I think we can safely ignore the weather forecast as we move closer to Cornish territory, though obviously we'll still check it obsessively. We were only nine miles from Plymouth and it shouldn't [...]

Day 27 – Beacon Hill to Bovisand Beach

Well today can actually, quite frankly, fuck right off. I just want to get that out there from the start. It was an utter shitcunt of a day and if it could go tits up it absolutely did go tits up. Shall we recount the ways in which today can fuck off so that you [...]

Day 26 – Soar Mill Cove to Beacon Hill

We had a couple of things to actually think about today which was a bit of a shock to the grey spongy thing between my ears. Rather than just meandering and getting there when we get there we had to aim for a ferry that only operated between 10am and 12pm, then again between 2pm [...]

Day 25 – Beesands to Soar Mill Cove

We managed to get the tent packed down with minimal sand incidents which had to be the work of a higher power given that between last night's drizzle and the condensation inside the tent, it was soaking. Maybe I've just blocked out how much sand is stuck to the tent. Maybe we'll get it out [...]

Day 24 – Woodhuish to Beesands

We had some absolutely violent hills to start the day with. Six miles of the fuckers. I don't know why I continue to be all confused and surprised when my legs are about to drop off only three hours into the day. I think it's because every time we complete a particularly brutal section a [...]

Day 23 – Torquay to Woodhuish

It's always a nice, chilled start when we wake up somewhere we're allowed to be and there was no risk of an angry local showing up and tearing strips off us. It was gone 8am when we finally shuffled out of Atlantis, waving goodbye to Steph, our lovely hostess. Today was largely a day of [...]