Following folk to the sea...

It's that time of year again when many people retrace their steps back into Sidmouth, drawn by the promise of music and magic by the sea.

Bluegrass folk

 



Folk in cars, on motorbikes, in camper vans, caravans, buses,  together with back-packers and hikers are all rolling down the steep lanes and roads heading as one, for the sea and the music that blends effortlessly into the salt-air.

There will be music and singing and dancing for days and nights to come...


String-playing folk come to the beach to sing with the sea.

Feather-fringed dancing folk rest on shingle-banked beaches.

http://www.sidmouthfolkweek.co.uk/

I'm sure it will be fun!

The donkeys of the Weston Plats

There are donkeys near here - there have always been donkeys near here.  The Donkey Sanctuary only came when the donkeys of the Weston Plats left.  The donkeys today walk well-trodden ways - their hooves slipping into old paths worn by  ancestors carrying their loads from sea to beach to the Plats, and from Plats to hill-top to roads and beyond.

Just down from the Donkey Sanctuary and along the valley at Weston Mouth are the near-invisible remains of small plots of land huddled under the cliffs - called the 'Weston Plats'.

From Victorian Times to the mid-20th century, the Plats provided a livelihood for local people where they could grow crops such as potatoes and corn, as well as fruit and flowers. The cliffs rising above the Plats protected them against wind and frost, while the southerly aspect benefitted from the warmth of the sun, resulting in near perfect conditions for a long and mellow season of growth.  The most widely known crop was the, "Early Branscombe Potatoes" - which were sold as far away as London.

Climbing a donkey path from the sea...

The Plats were fertilised with seaweed which was carried up from the beach by the donkeys.  The donkeys were also used to carry the crops home and sometimes onwards to the distant railway stations and markets.

When the Plats were finally abandoned in the 1960s and tourism came to East Devon,  the old barns and storage sheds were converted into holiday chalets and  the donkeys were used again, this time to transport tourists' luggage up and down the steep slopes.





Steep slopes and steps lead from the Donkey Sanctuary to the beach, and Phil and I have walked this way many times... unwittingly walking donkey paths down to the sea...

A path that slips through time

Beer Head looking beyond Sidmouth towards Ladrum Bay

The South West Coastal Path snakes westward along the coast for 630 miles from Poole in Dorset, curls around the Lizard and  Lands End Peninsula and comes to rest in Minehead, Somerset.





Our little section of this path has special significance for it hides secrets that are millions of years old. Along Lyme Bay the cliffs are Jurassic and contain the bones and fossils of dinosaurs. While the red Triassic cliffs of our home town are even older than the age of dinosaurs. This part of the coast has been designated a World Heritage Site.
http://www.jurassiccoast.com/

Beer Beach breakfasts are a perfect way to start a day!

Breakfast on Beer Beach is a sublime start to a walk along this beautiful coast - and an experience we try to repeat whenever we are inclined to rise early on a sunny morning.

Breakfast watching the fishing boats coming or going, depending on time and tide has a way of slowing you back into real timelessness.

Looking down to Brancombe Beach

Walking from Beer to Branscombe can be easy-going along the spectacular cliff-top pathway, or via the more dramatic Hooken Undercliff.

The history of the Hooken Undercliff is interesting, as documented in White's Devonshire and elsewhere, as it happened relatively recently.

"A part of the high cliff facing the sea, between Beer and Branscombe, called Southdown, was the scene of a great landslip in 1790, when upwards of ten acres of land sunk down about 250 feet".

What White does not mention is that after the gigantic landslip, the crab fishermen from Branscombe and Beer discovered their crab pots sitting high above the sea, where the seabed had been forced upwards by the landslip!

The undercliff may not have been formed in Jurassic times, but there is a primeval, other-worldly sense of place down there. There is a stillness and a silence broken only by the songs of a thousand birds, or the rustle of undergrowth where a small mouse scuttles or a snake slips unseen. In places the path drops close to the deserted beach where the waves wash in and wash out again witnessed only by the sea birds and the ocassional walkers like ourselves.

Branscombe lies at the end of our walk - a stretched out village that lines a long valley ending with a cafe on the beach.  The beach where a few years ago The Napoli had floundered and cast out its cargo.  Now all that remains of that ship is it's anchor - a gift to the village, an apology for it's sudden rude and unannounced arrival.

The call of the sea is powerful and the coastal path lies waiting, a narrow path that slips and winds its way through time  - and through our time and through our place, and by walking it we claim it, we know it, we hear its stories and we begin to understand ourselves.

 

Old paths and driftways

The valleys around our home are criss-crossed with endless miles of footpaths and bridleways - so much so that it is possible to walk all day and never see another soul!  

Many of these paths are almost as old as the hills they wind over and around - ancient driftways echoing to the tramp of long-past travellers.   Hamlets and villages, which are now little more that faded marks on yellowed maps, were once linked by sunken green lanes and old parish paths.

We have entertained the idea of being able to walk across the entire length of Devonshire, south to north, without ever having to step onto a main road. I believe this is entirely possible. Devon has over 8,000 miles of roads within it's borders, so there must be many thousands more miles of footpaths, bridleways and by-ways just waiting for our footfalls...

A lesson in joyfulness

 Hector is a young, inquisitive donkey who just happens to be trapped inside the body of a rather arthritic, elderly donkey – not that he lets this small matter prevent him from enjoying his life!  He loves to meet people and other donkeys, and always takes a great interest in what is going on around him. 

Hector’s favourite walk is around 10-acre field and across to the willow beds.  Once we reach the grassy track he’ll give an excited little buck and then set off at a canter, ears pricked forward, eager to see what’s new in the world this week.  Every now and then he’ll stop to inspect the hedgerows, or he’ll study the many memorials that line the pathways.  If there are donkeys in the neighbouring paddocks – Hector will always stop to say hello.

Hector loves his walks – and Phil and I love them too.  Hector is teaching us that no matter how old or how arthritic we may become, life is still full of fun and joyfulness, with places to explore and new friends to meet along the way.

Of Sea and Asinus

We live in a green valley, that's  threaded together by footpaths and bridleways, with a silvery river that shimmys its way down to the sea. In our valley the songs of seagulls float on the wind, and high on the hills that hug us - live two thousand donkeys!

Our life here is shaped by the alchemy of Sea and Asinus...