The Lazy Cherub Enigma: Let the Adventure Begin!

May 22, 2016

And so it begins! Here we are at the beginning of what will become either the worst or best decision we have ever made LOL. But before we get to the good and painful bits, let’s start with how we got here to begin with.

It was a long and boring flight from Calgary to London. This is the worst part of the trip for me – the flying. I just HATE night flights. So what if it gets me into London at 10 am local time? For me, it is 3 am and I haven’t slept in 24 hours. I am hurting for espresso! Usually on a long flight I watch a shit load of movies and report back to how good (or not) they are for passing time cramped in economy. This time, however, I got completely lost in the book “High Crimes” by Michael Kodas. This is a book about the other side of Mt. Everest – both literally and figuratively. After reading, any delusions of grandeur you may have of climbing that mountain will be wiped away forever. We all know the physical toll climbing this beast takes. What you may not know is the Wild West meets the Mafia culture that permeates every aspect of this domain. It’s Deadwood at 17,000 feet and it only gets worse the higher you go. And speaking of the Wild West, I did watch a documentary on the Pilgrims en-flight. Thanks to Jamestown pretty much the entire population of Indigenous people along the Eastern Seaboard died of some plague. By the time the Mayflower landed, it was the Walking Dead with no zombies. Just so you know, the Mayflower pilgrims survived that first winter because they found an abandoned Indian village that had some huts still intact. Abandoned being a loose term – the entire village died from plague.

Ok! So enough about mountains and pilgrims!

Because I had no sleep, we got a room at the Ibis Heathrow and planned to catch the bus to Taunton the next day. Ken had a run-in with the Nazi Chinese Take Away Guy (think Seinfeld Soup Nazi). The exchange went something like this:

Customer: “I would like fried rice but could I have no egg and not too much oil?”

Nazi Chinese Take Away Guy: “No that is too hard to make.”

Customer: “What do you mean it’s too hard to make? Don’t you just make it and add things. I just don’t want you to add the egg or too much oil”

NCTAG: “Go home and make it yourself then!”

Customer: “Ok fine. Just give me the fried rice as you make it then”

NCTAG: “No. I am not making you any rice. I don’t want any more complaints. Get out of my store. Go home and make your own rice.”

We checked on TripAdvisor and the complaints he gets are he will not, under any circumstances allow you to alter in any way a dish he makes. If you ask he tells you to get out of the store. You just order, take it and go. Ironically, many of these complaints accused him of being an American Chinese person saying he should go back to the US where his style would be more appreciated. Needless to say, when it was Ken’s turn to order he just said “I’ll take whatever you want me to order for dinner.”

Next morning was the bus to Taunton. We took the early bus thinking we would get in around 11:30 and have the day to explore. Yeah whatever. Arrived and it was a pretty grey day. Decided to find a place for lunch and by 1:30 we were in our room sleeping. Slept until 5:30 pm and were too lazy to do anything for dinner so we across the street to Tesco and bought some re-heat ready made meals. I binge watched a bunch of “Archer” episodes to stay awake until 10:30 pm. Then we went back to sleep and didn’t wake up until 7:30 am the next morning. So yeah, in the end all I can really tell you about Taunton is they have a Nero’s coffee shop, a giant Bingo palace that used to be a move theatre and an abnormal number of Polish delicatessens.

Next stop: Minehead.

Minehead is the official start point for the SWCP. It’s a picturesque seaside town with not much going on for it other than the massive holiday “barracks” near the sea walk. It’s the kind of place populated 10 months of the year by locals whose mean age is 70 and then, for July and August it becomes filled with families and their small raucous children. You have the boardwalk that is all arcade games, four hundred fish and chip stalls, and this monstrous tented kingdom called “Butlin’s.” We aren’t entirely sure what goes on in there. The place is surrounded by amusement park rides. I can imagine it being pure hell in the summer.

We walked the sea wall and found where we need to start the walk tomorrow. Then I had a nap on one of the giant “E’s” that spelled “Minehead” beside a group of sketchy bikers – the Harley kind, not the Colnago kind. Ken was worried the guy with all the face tattoos was going to knife him. But after a fish sandwich, he hopped onto his Moots and pedaled off into the late afternoon sun leaving Ken to wonder, “Just how many kill tears did I see on that cyclist face?”

May 23, 2012

Minehead to Porlock

15.66 KM

25, 811 steps (Walking steps not stairs. If that number were stairs I would not be writing this. I would be crumpled on the ground weeping.)

We really lucked out and had great weather for our first day. Just as we left Minehead we came upon a herd of West Highland Terriers. Literally a herd. Of course we had to stop and frolic with all that whiteness and fur. Then it was onto the trail proper. About an hour in we came to a detour to head down to Burgundy Chapel, a 600-year-old hermitage. Heading down is a bit of an understatement since the trail was a vertical drop to the sea. We walked about 20 minutes and didn’t see anything other than the horrendous climb we would have to do to get back up. So nixed that and came back to the trail. Instead we decided to prove our mettle by using the “rugged path” to get to Porlock. In this case, we were glad we did. The rugged route hugs the coastline and meanders up and down the hills. Lots of fun creek crossings and bird life and not a single human being to be seen. In the end we deemed the rugged path not rugged per se, just isolated and narrow.

Ah Porlock! Despite the perfect weather this day could not end soon enough. I was still on Calgary time and Ken needed ice coffee. Our lodgings for the night was at the Sea View Inn. I knew it would be awesome when Gill, the proprietress, opened the door with a warm “HELLO” and a large yellow lab desperate to play tug o war with a stuffed sheep. Teddy and I are best friends now since I was willing to tug him around the room for an hour. Then it was off to the Ship Inn for dinner. Great meal made with all local sourced produce and fish. A bit meh about the local cider. Good kick (at 8%) but it was a little flat for me. Couldn’t decide if that was because it was made the way Coleridge drank it back in the day or it was just the dregs from the cask.

Highlight for the day was having cream tea at Kitnor’s Tearoom in Bossington. This is a tiny hamlet with stone cottages that boast an inordinate number of bird feeders. Maybe it is in the hamlet bylaws that each residence must have at least 40 bird feeders of varying seed or risk banishment.

Lowlight of the Day: NO BEAKS AND SQUEAKS! Just outside Bossington is an Owl and Hawk rescue center. I cannot even begin to tell you how excited I was for a chance to fondle a falcon and make out with an Owl. But alas it was not to be. The center is closed on Mondays (except Bank Holidays) and our pleading faces against the glass got us nowhere. Damn you Exmoor Owl and Hawk center. Damn you all to hell for thwarting my avian dreams.

May 24, 2016

Porlock to Lynmouth

26.69 km

38,670 Steps (that’s the equivalent of climbing 168 floors btw)

So a few quick facts about Porlock: The village population is primarily made up of seniors. According to the latest census, 40% of the residents are over age 65. That said, this place seriously rocks if you are retired. There are SO MANY cool activities you can do. Things like learning to ring church bells, glass blowing for seniors, dinner and movie nights, and (of course) WALKING CLUBS. I have to say that growing old in an English village appears to be about the best thing ever. Everyone walks, goes to the pub after for a pint to socialize, and they are so welcoming to anyone new. I’ve made more friends here in two days than I have in 20 years in Calgary! LOL! The other fun fact about Porlock revolves around Samuel Coleridge and William Wordsworth. Both spent a great deal of time ambling the paths and created quite a controversy since they loved to do so at night. Coleridge is also responsible for the term “Porlock” - a person who shows up unexpectedly or just starts talking to you on the street when you least want to have a conversation. Near as I can guess it means a person who overstays their welcome. Anyway, the story goes that Coleridge was furiously writing down “Kublai Khan” as it had come to him in a dream and some dude showed up at his cottage and interrupted him. This guy kept talking and talking and Coleridge forgot the rest of the dream and thus, Kublai Khan is an unfinished poem. Characters with the surname “Porlock” show up in English literature as persons who show up unannounced with some shady business proposition.

And now we leave Porlock for Porlock Weir – a 3.5 km stroll along a narrow country road. Or, if you actually read the map properly you could walk the beach. Porlock Weir is a picturesque hamlet that begs you to linger. If we had it to do again, I would have booked to stay here for the night, as it is perfection. There are only two places to get rooms but both would be excellent choices. Imagine finishing up your walk and having dinner with the ocean right at your feet? In a place that has a copious amount of gorilla paraphernalia? (Go on. You know you want to!) Another big reason to stay here other than Porlock is it shaves the 3.5 to 4 km off your next days walk into Lynmouth. Believe me. You want to shave.

The walk was excellent. It was mostly through forest and pastures so no civilization until the end. Again, we had excellent weather. Things took a turn for the worse though as we neared Lynmouth and decided to take the diversion path to see the lighthouse.

Big Mistake.

For starters, once you get to the point, you don’t really see a lighthouse. You just see the dome of a lighthouse. It was beyond anticlimactic. Then comes the “fun” bit – the epic climb straight up on scree to leave. Keep in mind you are walking straight up on an angle on a cliff face that drops down to the ocean. It’s windy. Very windy. There are warning signs telling you to not walk this route in bad weather. I can see why. My legs hurt so much. You do not want to be 23 km into a walk and take this on. At one point I just sort of collapsed on the cliff face and wept. My legs were rubber and we still had this brutally long decent to get into Lynmouth. By the time we got into our lodgings, we had been walking for 9 hours. All we wanted to do was lay down and sleep. The proprietor told us our next days walk would be even harder. Great. So that means we should get into the next village at midnight.

We stayed the night at the Village Inn – the pub with the most dogs in it ever. It’s like just a dog bar and the humans just show up to walk them there. It’s no frills and the rooms are dated but OMG THE FOOD. I honestly thought when we walked in that this would be another Wainwright pub moment – Tesco patty on a white bun with frozen fries. Nope. The cook is the owner’s Mum and boy can she cook. You get enough food to feed two people. I packed up half my cod in cheese sauce for lunch the next day. (And I am talking serious cheese sauce – like a half pound of cheddar with fresh cod and fresh spinach. With a fresh baguette.) Ken had steak and ale pie that was the size of a dinner place with a mountain of fries. He ate the whole thing. It was kind of gross and erotic watching him gorge. I had another lack luster cloudy cider. But it was 10% alcohol and I needed it to shut my legs up so I could sleep.

We were in bed asleep by 9 pm. Neither of us had been to bed that early since we were ten.

Culbone Church - England's smallest parish church. Been in existence since around 1200 AD. (And yes, like our last walk, this church has treats for walkers :-)