A Cold Mornings Walk

Wednesday is normally my training day when I walk the coastal footpath from Sidmouth to Seaton. This involves 11 miles of hilly walking and is excellent preparation for my "End to End journey. I catch the bus and see the normal  regulars who make the journey. On my bus ride today I noticed 12 pigs lined up in a row with Crows sat on their backs waiting for them to disturb something "good " to eat. Eventually I arrive at Sidmouth and get myself used to the coldness of the streets compared with the sleepy warmth of the bus. In my youth I  travelled home from work on the bus on a dark winters evening  only to fall asleep and miss my stop, waking up in a panic miles from home.
Sidmouth is busy with shoppers and I can smell the pasty and pie shop as I resist temptation and reach the outskirts of the town. I pass the expensive houses who's gardens are falling into the sea due to the rapidly eroding cliffs. After a demanding climb I am on the coastal path  again heading towards Slade and the Donkey Sanctuary. Last nights snow showers can still be seen frozen against a sheltering hedge. A few miles on I stopped for lunch at the Fountain Head and relaxed by the warmth of the fire. The sun had come out as I left the pub and headed via the Sea Shanty, up through the cliffs to Beer and then home to Seaton. It was very cold but I felt greatful for such a wonderful day.

Hills, Valleys and Aerodromes

Today in preparation for the Big Walk two of us set out on a circular walk through the hills from Branscombe. I hate to say it put it felt almost spring like with everything looking greener after the overnight rain. Walking from the Mason's arms we headed out via narrow lanes into the rolling hills that made us both puff and pant. Eventually we reached a narrow track where the recent heavy rain had washed deep channels in the surface that were 18" deep. We hopped and jump our way across these and eventually descended a steep slope  into a dark conifer wood. The steep banks of the wood had fallen onto the path following a landslip  after heavy rain, taking large trees with it. We emerged from the wood and climbed a steep hill that lead to an old airfield which may have been used in the war. Crossing the airfield we reached the outskirts of Branscombe again near the Fountain Head pub. Fog and rain had now closed in on us and we were glad to take shelter in the Mason's Arms for lunch.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Branscombe
http://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/branscombe-bakery-mill-and-forge/
http://www.justgiving.com/Ian-Harris11