The dinner last night at The White Hart was amazing, with my veggie curry including a side of foraged giant hogweed bhaji, delicious revenge for our various undergrowth encounters and against a highly invasive species. We buy our lunch before breakfast from the Co-op (next to the gun shop) in the centre of town. A sign in front declares that Wiveliscombe has been a ‘Walkers are Welcome Town’ since 2009.
We head downhill out of town, past a street called Russell’s; Russell’s what is not explained. Then it’s uphill again. It will be another almost constant up and down today as we’re in the South West peninsula proper now and the terrain is very broken, or as Richard says ‘bobbly’. He also tells me that this is part of the British highlands: the land lying north of an imaginary line drawn between the estuaries of the Exe and the Tees.
We cut a corner off with a path, then follow an unclassified road steeply up to over 250 metres, with Wiveliscombe laid out below us. We can also see Exmoor at various points, but we won’t be visiting there on the HoLEwalk - it’s not possible to do everything and keep to a sensible route. We then take a path, rejoining the Wivey Way, over a high field with views over the only low lying land around here: the Vale of Taunton. It’s a lovely place for a stop, so we take an early break.
Next, it’s back down a road, passing purple rosebay willow herb and foxgloves, to pick up the West Deane Way just before the river Tone. The West Deane Way is only 45 miles long and is a circular walk in the Vale of Taunton Deane. This section passes through the wooded Hurstone Nature Reserve; the clear, stepped path meandering up and down in the trees. Out of nowhere appears a red sandstone monolith, a support for the railway viaduct that has long since crumbled to dust.
We follow the path out through fields, passing a friendly black Labrador on the way, and cross the river Tone at Hagley Bridge. Then it’s along the road again for a while and back onto a hillside path. This one ends in a track in a ravine which we initially discount and have to come back up a hill to pick it up. The ravine, like all the roads around here has almost vertical sides. These are called sunken lanes or holloways (from the German Holweg) They are found throughout Europe and are associated with a long history of human occupation and soft rocks.
It’s then a short section of road and into another field. As we are passing, some young cows in the next field start to get excited. When we then enter their field, they become even more so and, as is typical, start to follow us. What is not usual, however, is how close they come to us, herding us into the corner of the field and nudging my rucksack when I don’t pay them attention. The exit from the field is slightly higher up and we have to move them out of the way to access it. Despite the clear footpath signage, it is blocked by an electric fence that I limbo under with alacrity, turning round to see Rich at a slightly lower section stepping rapidly across. The heifers stay about a foot the other side of the fence, eyeing us disconsolately as Rich wipes the cow snot off my rucksack with some grass
The next field is fallow and we head down it to cross a brook at the bottom. As we enter the field afterwards, I notice the footpath sign on this side is marked from Devon County Council. The brook is the count boundary here. This field has sheep grazing who, thankfully, ignore us. As we approach the next gate, a large nanny goat jumps up to greet us. As we open the gate, however, she becomes distracted by some succulent nettles in the hedge and ignores us. The next field has horses, Rich’s least favourite animal to walk past but, although they follow us for a while at a distance, they soon lose interest.
As we walk down the hill, avoiding a low/lying electric fence across the path, we reach another milestone: from hereon in, the waters drain into the river Exe. We climb up the other side into the sleepy hamlet of Clayhanger. It’s a bit earlier than usual, but the grass in the churchyard is very inviting and we stop for an early lunch and a doze.
We leave Clayhanger along the road and then enter another field of cows. These ones stampede away from us into the valley below. The gates in this section are very varied, some have signs, others don’t, some have pedestrian gates and others are tied, wedged and clearly not intended to be opened despite being obviously the track of the footpath. One is high with an overhanging angle and impossible to open, so we climb over it and continue on our way.
It’s then another short road walk to gain the track across Bampton Down. This is a high level route across a plateau that ultimately rises to 286 metres. The track is tree-lined, but there are occasional, exciting views over towards Dartmoor, beckoning us on. We continue from the track onto an unclassified road. This goes down for a little way, then rises again to Barton Hill. Next follows a steep descent with spectacular vistas over towards Dartmoor again, highlighting its significant extent, and into the village of Chevithorne.
From Chevithorne, we elect to take the road through the village of Chettiscombe and over the A361 into Tiverton. We choose Tiverton Castle as the endpoint for this section and take the inevitable selfie. This section has been one of highs and lows, both literally and metaphorically. We have climbed the Cotswolds, the Mendips, the Polden Hills and the Quantocks as well as several hillocks in between. We’ve crossed the Somerset levels and had tantalising views of remote Exmoor and Dartmoor. Dartmoor is for next time though. See you then!
Total distance: 364 miles