What’s that saying’ a plan is only good until first contact with the enemy?’, that was my day yesterday and it screwed up my tightly wound travel plans. I’m not making excuses as all the errors were my own with the other people in this chain of madness all doing a great job despite of me (special thanks to my amazing patient driver who evidently carted my gear up to storage, cheers Matt).
Without digging into the details lets just say that half of the brain that deals with organization slept in Friday morning. From forgetting documents to not writing down credit card pin numbers, I honestly felt like aliens had scooped out most of my brain during the night and began thinking I’d better get my crap together if I’m to survive a month on the coastal path 🙂
A combination of being overexcited, lack of food, lack of sleep (see overexcited) and too much thinking had bought me to this point.
Due to my lateness leaving Redditch it seemed I was going to miss the National Express fun bus to Minehead from Bristol, although after heading for the bus station after getting off the train anyway to see about the next days travel, found that the bus was running so late (yep National Express) that even all my screwing about was not stopping me.
Finally got into Minehead at 9.30pm and no one was answering the phone at the campsite I’d pick to start from. Figuring that the campsite was on the way down the coastal path anyway took to one of my favorite activities and started walking down the coast path in the dark.
Only got a few miles before the rain turned a nice nights walking into a naked cold shower and after an hour stuck in the emergency bivy decided things were going south quickly (I was getting cold) and managed to find an almost flat piece of ground to pitch the Vango on.
Feeling better plus a lot warmer I managed a few hours sleep before the wind picked up enough to remind me that the piss poor job I’d done of putting up the tent wasn’t going to last long if it got any worse.
The view in the morning was worth semi-forstbite and the first daylight look I’d had of the coast.
A few hours walk (mostly downhill, thankfully) and I made it to the target campsite with the whole day ahead to look around.
Porlock is a nice, tidy, pretty village and the sort of place I’d go bat shit crazy in very quickly, but the campsite is cheap with an amusing side effect of having the sort of communal showers that would do 1960 Butlins pride.
The hot shower was still nice though (I’m not shy) and at this moment I’m all fresh in clean clothes sat in a pub using their WiFi will drinking Cider 🙂
The funnest thing at the moment is mine is the only tent in the campsite with all the sensible people rocking up in camper vans (pussies).
Just had a quick peek at the weather for tomorrow (Sunday) and it looks like a good walking day, so it’ll be up early for a quick communal shower and back on the coast path by the time people in their warm campers noticed the sun has come up.