I thought, as I wandered into Bideford town. I'd stopped off at a little faux railway carriage which now served as a cafe and whipped my map and guide book out to take a gander. Worryingly, my knee had been feeling a little tender still on the way from Instow to here, despite my rest in a comfy bed the night before. The folks at the cafe tried their best to be helpful, but all I managed to get for my enquiries here were vague directions and unwelcome glares.
Before I get into Bideford proper, the walk from Instow to here - boring but pleasant. I left the Wayfarer with a smile and a wave and winked at the early morning girl in the Instow Arms as I went past, rejuvenated and feeling optimistic. The book promised a scenic, easy walk today and I was looking forward to it and the day started off very much in that vein - along the estuary, still on the Tarka trail (one of the ugliest trails in Britain from what I've seen) and then up into that old railway carriage I'd mentioned after an hour or so. The Bideford 10k run was on today and that provided some entertainment as the athletes streamed past past. I still feel guilty for chuckling at some of the back runners, particularly the heavyset fellow who had taken his place in the rear guard.
Worryingly, my phone's battery was struggling and my solar charger wasn't a great deal of help - it struggled to find any sun through the clouds of North Devon, but it held out for a couple phone calls from Jess, who set me onto a campsite in Westward Ho! for the night. I'd particularly been looking forward to Westward Ho!, partially for the exclamation mark and partially because the coast path association told me that it was a lovely place to spend a day on the coast and they'd never bend the truth, would they?