SWCP – Burgh Island to the Erme
Missing images from this post have been
sucked out of the ether by beings
from another solar system.
The Captain apologies for
Captains Log : Star date 27/08/2015
Back to the South West Coast Path for the fifth consecutive day.
Galactic rumours suggest this region of Terra Firma are infested with lobster red trippers.
Your correspondent has never set foot on the sandy shores of this region, as he regularly inhabits Solus Maximus during his leisure time.
The ten year old Renault Scenic is typical of the terrestrial people movement, those lacking a spacious mono box seem to arrive in VW Campers sporting wet suits for the aquatic sports known to occur in the region.
Well heeled southerners make their way onto the tidal causeway, whilst the stellar rich arrive on Burgh Island by helicopter, Land Rover, or a peculiar mobile scaffold tower that wade across the tidal reach at high water.
Armed with scant knowledge of the area we shocked to discover piracy is still very much in evidence in the region. Metallic machinery sprouted from various tarmac stations demanding Six Pounds Fity Pence for day time parking, and a further £6.50 for any time at all after six Post Merdiem.
My companion and I hadn’t anticipated such an obstacle, in the event of being stranded in Kingston at the end of the day’s walk we may end up entirely dependent on Village Cabs Teletransporter to avoid a punitive fine.
Not that this was our immediate concern, as it became apparent we could make a quick tour across the tidal sands to see Burgh Island, a privilege I hadn’t expected.
We just missed a pod of dolphins, but tattoo man confirmed they had been in the bay for twenty minutes. For now our journey appeared to be without porpoise.
Back in MPV/SUV/VW Camper land my companion’s aural experience was enhanced by an earthling strumming a Graham Hendrik tune on his futuristic instrument.
After the Burgh Island diversion it was time to make tracks, and once again we were struggling with a lack of wooden way markers. Ten minutes later we quickly marched through Challaborough, which seemed to inhabited by the human sub-species Less Fortunus Sapiens who appeared oblivious to the good times being had just a few hundred yards away.
Leaving the populous behind us we headed west where we came across numerous Meadow Brown butterflies fighting against the Sou’westerly breeze.
Looking back we saw that we’d made our escape from Burgh Island just in time. The tide had risen, with many folk now trapped alongside toffs who would no doubt resemble penguins before the day had closed.
Having forsaken my latest gadget and switched back to Canon’s 7D Mk1 I had just enough magnification to capture shots of a juvenile Stonechat.
Along the way we were once again spotting a variety of primeval life forms, both flat capped and “Puffball” style.
Other earth dwellers looked at our passage with curiosity.
Rounding Muxham Point we were able to look across to Mothecombe Beach, which the locals call “Mother Coombe”. Then we headed towards the slip-way where I’d waded across some 30 hours earlier.
There were a few brave souls swimming on this tidal reach, but we didn’t hang about long. Our destination was soon behind us, as we climbed up through the woods towards “The Dolphin” pub at Kingston.
Some of the paths were quite narrow, but even the roads weren’t that wide, and the occasional motorist forced us take refuge amongst stingers and thorns as they inched by.
An hour later our Village Taxi GALAXY dropped us back to our staring point, saving us from a hefty parking fine.