Lands End

to John O’Groats

Hugh Brown Stage II –May 2014

Stage 2 – Okehampton

If you travel by train between Adelaide and Simon and I had selected the first bikes thrust Alice Springs you will travel on the ‘Ghan’ at us in the hire shop, but Mr Green claimed railway. So named after the Afghan camel he had some expertise in the matter and drivers who led the camel trains before the insisted on inspecting every bike on the railway was built. There are now apparently premises before bizarrely selected a model more feral camels in Australia than any other which was completely deficient in the country in the world. I mention this as my mudguard department. This in its self would route on the second leg of my LE to JOG not have mattered had their not been some odyssey started with a brisk march 6 miles up heavy rain the previous night. Consequently the Camel trail towards Blisland. No camel’s with no impediment to mud being sprayed up faces spotted so far, save for maybe one or from the back wheel, Mr Green arrived at two in Witherspoon’s in Bodmin. Blisland looking, if observed from behind, as if had been overwhelmed by the excitement of Old railway lines are often advertised as ideal the journey. Having brought the matter to his routes for cyclists and walkers alike but the attention he decided drastic action was problem is they may be fine and dandy when required. they are first laid out, but over time the vegetation soon takes over and after a while Leaving him to it, Simon and I ventured into there is bugger all to see apart from the inside only to discover there was a hiatus impenetrable trees and large shrubs. in the delivery of the lunch orders as the Consequently from painful experience I can entire kitchen staff was leaning out of the confirm they favour the cyclist as the cyclist window fascinated by some chap removing can cover the ground 5 times faster than the his trousers in the alleyway adjacent to the walker. It was therefore with some relief I . sighted the Blisland Arms with its reputation for real ales and a hearty welcome. It seems the poet John Betjeman was a frequent visitor to the Blisland Arms and additionally got very excited about church of St Protus and St Hyacinth across the green. However, it is well to remember this is the man who asked at the end of his life if he had any regrets to which he replied ‘I wish I had had more sex’.

The Blisland Inn, a former CAMRA pub of the year did not disappoint with Sharp’s Budha at £3 a pint and so fortified I headed off uphill for the inevitable 1 mile trek to my B&B. As (more of her later) The B&B was splendid and I was immediately may have said “ When I returned to Blisland” I presented with a pot of tea and two huge remembered the incident of the ‘dropped slices of homemade cake with pink icing. This trou’. Some years previously I had cycled to instantly raised the question of etiquette. Are Blisland from in the company of one you expected to eat one slice, both slices or Mr Nicholas P Green and a Mr Simon Aldis. what happens if you say I’m cutting down on Although not obvious from the photograph at sugar or I hope to be tackling a beef and ale 1378 feet is the highest point in pie within the hour and would rather give the . After a fairly comfortable 2 hour cake a miss. I ate one slice and while doing so trudge I reached the summit. I’m sure there is dropped half my loose change down the side a joke there somewhere. of the sofa. In contrast to my September experience mien host not only drove me down to the pub but came and picked me up later on, so a thoroughly good evening all round. It got even better the next morning when I was served up my first fried duck egg for breakfast. After a stop for lunch a misty drizzle began Day 2 was the big day as I was venturing out sweeping in from the west so I set course for onto , not a place to be . From my elevated position the marooned in bad weather. The forecast was moor looked featureless, desolate and bleak. very mixed but I decided to chance it, as It’s easy to see how isolated walkers could getting to the famous Jamaica Inn, my next rapidly disappear in Grympon mire if they lose stop, would be very problematical if I could their way. Fortunately, apart from a minor not follow my intended route. navigational error I made the right calls and Everything was fine for the first hour then the about 4 pm found myself approaching sky blackened and the heavens opened, so it Jamaica Inn which at one time was a desolate was with some relief I squelched into St refuge in the middle of the moor. The first Brevians and sought refuge in the vestibule of problem of course was communication as all the Community Hall. Knowing it would be the staff seemed to mumble. Anyway, I was foolhardy to set out onto the moor in these expected and after dumping my stuff, as an ex conditions I set about stripping down and Customs Officer I could not resist the conducting a full repack to delay having to attraction of the Museum of Smuggling, make some unpalatable decisions. Suddenly especially as I qualified for a 50p discount as a just as quickly as it started the rain went off hotel resident. and the sky cleared which gave me the confidence to stride out in the direction of ‘Brown Willy’.

If I tell you that the whole Jamaica Inn complex resembles a motorway service station locked in a 70’s time warp you will no doubt be ahead of me in visualising what the museum had in store. However, before I was able to get in I was accosted by an octogenarian local who broke off from chatting up Gladys the ticket lady to insist I devoted my full attention to a wooden leg handing up on the museum wall on my way out. Having promised faithfully to comply I entered the museum, which seemed to have been constructed on the principle of a fair ground ghost train. I was immediately pitched into the Daphnie du Maurier experience, who as you know was inspired to write Jamaica Inn while staying there in the 1930’s. What you may not know was she was married to general ‘Boy’ Browning played by Dirk Bogarde in the film A Bridge too Far. We had the writing desk the Glacier mints the lot. There then followed a section describing smuggling in Cornwall in the 18th Century using every cliché in the book Later that evening on my way to the bar I was and finally a display of devices used to very intrigued by the picture of Percival facilitate the importation of smuggled goods. Edward Harold Fotherington-Casters-Smythe The centre piece being a false tank designed who tragically disappeared on Bodmin moor to slide under the front wing of a modern car during a birthday game of “hide & seek”. I can with an example of how it would work on an only conclude Bodmin moor does not seem to Austin 7. The wooden leg on the way out had me the most suitable venue for a game of this nothing to do with smuggling but concerned sort and secondly people presumably shouted two brothers who both only had one leg and themselves hoarse, quite quickly, trying to as they were opposite legs, were able to make locate where he was. This then got me considerable savings on shoes by only needing thinking about the propensity of people now to buy one pair between them. retaining two surnames when they get married for example when Santa Palmer- Tompkinson married Simon Montifore-Sebag she became Santa Palmer-Tompkinson- Montifore-Sebag. If in twenty years’ time her kids do the same the passport office will have to seriously think about whether they need to devote an entire page on the passport application just for second names.

After fortifying myself with several pints of Tribute and a steak & ale pie I returned to my room to reflect on why: curtains in B&B’s are about as effective as a sheet of tracing paper in blocking out the light at 4am in the morning, why every TV operates measure. It was with some difficultly I in a different way, why people insist on managed to extract myself and press on to putting superfluous cushions on the bed and the Rising Sun for a lunchtime sharpener. why the bathroom fan keeps operating a good 10 minutes after you’ve just nipped back in to clean your teeth.

Needless to say I awoke at 5am with the sun streaming in and so was well placed to take advantage of an early breakfast and head off over the moor again in the direction of the ancient capital of Cornwall Launceston.

Having time in hand I decided to detour for a ride on the Launceston Steam Railway but I underestimated the distance and arrived just as the train whistle signalled the train’s departure from New Mills station. I therefore had to content myself with having a cup of tea with ‘Jenny’ the donkey, ‘Percy’ the Peacock, and ‘Larry’ the Llama in the New Mills Children’s Outdoor Farm experience.

With the usual one mile uphill in prospect I pressed on in search of Trethere Golf Club where I was spending the night. I suppose I should have twigged the crucial word in the description ‘superior rooms in the Lodge House’ was Lodge. As the lodge is usually at It was a glorious day and as a sole walker out the end of the drive and the end of the drive on the moor I was able to revel in a sense of is usually slap bang next to the main road I freedom and isolation far removed from think you have probably got the picture. signal failures at Three Bridges. The moor Consoled by the fact I had remembered my eventually petered out but due to another earplugs I had a quick shower and set course navigational error I stumbled across the for the Eliot Arms. ‘Catherdral of the moors’ at . The The landlord clearly was taking no chances photo does not show just how colossal the with contravening the licensing laws in church is in relation to its surroundings. A very relation to the calling of ‘time’ and had pleasant welsh lady who was arranging a installed no fewer than 6 grandfather clocks in vibrant floral display in front of the pulpit the main bar. Coincidently a good friend of gave me a full run down of the complete mine repairs and sells grandfather clocks, so if history of the church as well as who was doing you feel a find example of the clock maker’s what with who in the village for good art would add a certain gravitas to your front hall look no further than Pineapple House, The pub I had earmarked for lunch had shut Norwich. If Mr Deeley is not prepared to offer so there was no choice but to press on. With you a knock down price I’m sure his wife will the sun now out I made good progress and as he has about 8 in his front room. strode down the hill into Bridestowe with 20 miles under my belt. As I was descending the hill I was passed by a bus going the 7 miles further on to Okhampton, where I was staying the night. For a moment I considered hailing the bus but the prospect of my first pint in Devon was foremost in my mind so I carried on. Sods law of course, the pub did not open until 5:30 and it was now only ten past four. To compound matters the last bus run by a different company left at 5:31 from, according

to the locals, some indiscriminate point on the Yes, there is a pub in there somewhere. by- pass. Resigned to my fate I trekked up to the dual carriage way to find it completely Next morning in keeping with the erratic devoid of a bus stop of any description. I spring weather the sunshine of the day before therefore had no choice but to estimate a was replaced with torrential rain which likely spot and wait. necessitated full waterproofs and hat which lightened the pack but made walking seem At 5:31 there was no sign of a bus at 5:36 more of an effort. Fortunately the rain eased there was no sign of a bus. As ever, just as I by the time I got to Launceston but as time was rummaging in my rucksack for the time was against me, there was no time to stop. table I caught sight of something green This was a shame as it looked an interesting approaching at a speed of knots. I place even in the rain. After purchasing a immediately catapulted myself into the banana and an energy drink I pushed on to middle of the road leaving the driver no the Tamar river and at long last crossed over option but to slam on the anchors. The from Cornwall into Devon. expectation he was required to stop and pick passengers seem to take him completely by surprise but he took it on the chin and duly deposited me in Okehampton some ten minutes later.

After a brief detour into the Plymouth Inn whose clientele consisted of a bunch of Brighton rockers 40 years on, I pulled out a sheet photocopied from Streetmap and set off uphill to the point of the arrow. Half an If you look closely you will see a stile in the hour later I discovered I had somehow centre of the picture. Not one to go over entered the wrong post code and my B&B was looking over your shoulder talking to the on the opposite of town. It was with some person behind. relief when I finally pitched up at ‘Meadowlea’ and Mrs Poole said “we were just wondering where you’d got to”. Setting off back into town I developed a then walk back again I resolved to complete burning desire to have fish and chips for my the 2 miles when I next return to dinner but once again I overlooked the fact Okehampton. I thus finished off with a brisk 6 that town’s in the country operate on a miler into Okehampton station which was completely different time frame to towns in fantastic. Sadly it only has a main line service the South East and apart from a few on a Sunday but the tea room was open. ‘So disaffected teenagers roaming the streets and that’s all good then’. sinewy men smoking roll ups outside the pub door there is no other form of life visible after 7:30 in the evening. The fish and chip shop was shut. I was rescued by the White Hart Hotel where the beer was spot on and food was still being served after 8 O’Clock.

PS – If anyone would like me to take their cat on the next leg me know.

Knowing me, knowing you Ah Ha! The final push meant going back to Bridestowe to complete the last 7 miles. Having arrived at the bus stop in good time I naturally expected a green bus to arrive at 10:15 which is why I completely ignored the batter old red bus that turned up 10 minutes later. Obviously this was the bus I should have been on. The situation was marginally retrieved by jumping on the shoppers special to Tavistock and getting off about 2 miles short of where I needed to be. Rather than walk the 2 miles