Day 13 - The Strangest of Days

Awakening to blue skies and the promise of a dry, wind-free day, I was expecting today's jaunt from Bridgwater to Cheddar to be a relatively straight-forward 20 miler. The terrain was mostly flat across the 'Somerset Levels', which are only just above sea level and are drained by a series of straight ditches and canals. 

To be fair, the morning went well. A three or so mile trip across Bridgwater town through various housing estates, then a footbridge over the M5 that felt like a landmark moment. On reaching the levels, I was on a constant series of right-angled turns down roads and tracks running by the ditches. I lost all sense of direction, as if I was going round in circles (or squares, in this case, if you see what I mean). It was a relief to meet Phil around 12.00 for lunch and a nice cuppa - just 9 miles to go.

It transpires that farmers in this neck of the woods are not walker-friendly. I'd already come across some closed paths in the morning. At one point, a house was being built right where my route should be taking me. I enquired of the builder which side of the house the path was, to which he said 'no path here, mate, you'll have to go into the village.' I pointed out that there was a public footpath sign on the lamp post, right above his head: 'Yeah, we'll have to take that down,' he replied. Personally, I'm not sure that's the way planning permission works...

This trend continued in the afternoon and I counted 13 gates I had to climb over because they were padlocked shut, despite being official rights of way. That said, my gating skills improved considerably with practice and I was nearly vaulting over them at the end.

A lot of the fields I was walking through were full of crops and I have no problem walking round the field edges to reach my destination rather than marching on what is the designated footpath. On one such extension, three deer, no more than 10 feet from me, suddenly jumped out of the crop and bounded across the field, kangaroo-like. I think I was more surprised than them - needless to say, no photo.

I had successfully navigated a herd of Aberdeen Angus in the morning, carefully making my way round the field edge. They had no young with them, so just stared at me whilst I was in their company, a bit like what happens in a country pub. Going through my umpteenth sheep field in the afternoon, I nodded as usual to the ewes before hearing a rush of hooves behind me. I turned quickly, just in time to see a lamb running at full pelt to butt my calves! I am ashamed to say I screamed in shock: attacked by a lamb?! I thought I'd hit a low point last year when I had to abandon a run after being cornered by three chihuahuas, but this was more humiliating still. In the subsequent kerfuffle, I lost sight of my assailant and, well - lambs, they all look the same, don't they? I muttered a few 'mint sauce's and went on my way.

Moments later, a lovely family called me over to their garden and restored my faith in the people of Somerset (if not the livestock) by offering tea and Easter biscuits. I mentioned diabetes at the wrong time and the biscuit was nearly snaffled from me but I was too quick.

Oh, and the day was ended with another dog attack where my walking pole swordsmanship and bad language managed to keep the hound at bay.

We're at Petruth Paddocks tonight and have just met Chris who is also on the LEJOG journey and seems to be on a similar schedule. He has his tent with him: tonight looks like a cold one but we're double locking the van, Chris! Hope to get to walk with you over the next couple of days.

Bristol, here we come.