Coastal path day 1
As has become traditional, I am walking the Coastal Path on the Bank Holiday weekend, while Pellinor is away Larping. I've done it so many times now that I don't usually take a camera, but today the weather was just perfect, so I did. Last year, I did it in 2 days, and the year before in 2 long days and one short preceding evening, but neither of these really worked well with the buses, and involved quite a lot of stressful rushing along, hoping I caught one of the incredibly infrequent buses on a remote rural stop, and knowing that if I missed one, I'd have to wait in the middle of nowhere for hours. So I reverted to a 3 day approach this time.
Today was Cowes to Ventnor in a clockwise direction.
There's a new Floating Bridge across the river that separates West Cowes from East Cowes. It's been fraught with mishap and woe, causing various incidents of running aground and long periods in which it couldn't run at low tide, and many locals have totally lost confidence in it, but it has one nice advantage over the old one: it has a deck, meaning that foot passengers can stand out in the sunshine for their long, storm-tossed voyage across the mighty deep, before reaching the other side of the vasty ocean about 90 seconds later.
Here is the iconic hammerhead crane of West Cowes. I have to admit that I can't remember just why it's iconic, and why it Must Be Preserved At All Costs, but it is. So here it is.
Then through the streets of East Cowes, heading slowly uphill, with nice views down to the river across vast acres of oilseed rape, and then past St Mildred's Church in Whippingham. Prince Albert had a hand in designing this one.
The road walking went on for a good few more miles, since the Osborne Estate occupies most of the coast near East Cowes, so the footpaths need to divert far inland. Along back lanes to Wootton, through narrow jitties (or insert regional term of choice, if you prefer) along the backs of houses, down to Wootton Creek. On the coastal side, the creek was pretty, with boats pulled up on the muddy banks, but there was no pavement on that side of the busy road, so across the road I had to go. Oh well.
Then through the woods, past the ferry terminal, and across to Quarr Abbey, with its unexpected architecture.
Quarr Abbey has pigs!
And piglits! Piglits with corvids growing out of their heads!
One piglet was chasing a pair of ducks, who tolerated it for a while, then turned and... oh how cruel! They LOOKED AT HIM! This was so terrifying that the piglet ran squealing back to mum, which was cute and funny, but rather annoying, since I was JUST about to take a picture of him with the mighty, towering giant ducks.
Near Binstead Church I saw a squirrel. I even managed to photograph it, too. This doesn't often happen.
Then down into Ryde, for the long, long walk along Ryde seafront, looking across the sands to Portsmouth. Here is Appley Tower, a folly.
Then along the Seaview sea wall, and up and over a small hill, before descending to the coast at St Helens, where there is half a church.
From the St Helens coast to the Bembridge coast, across the mouth of Bembridge Harbour, it must be barely 30 yards as the crow flies. Unfortunately, as the walker walks, it's more like 2 miles. It was even further this time, since the causeway across one inlet of the harbour was closed, so I had to detour into St Helens village itself. This did at least give me a nice view down across the harbour.
Then around the harbour on the road, past many houseboats, before heading through the leafy lanes of Bembridge, past palatial mansions, before heading down to the beach near the lifeboat station.
A little more road walking to get to the coastguard station, and then a nice clifftop walk followed by footpaths through woods, with occasional glimpses of the beaches below and Culver Cliff up ahead. Various caravan parks were passed, each of them heaving with happy holiday makers. Then a short, sharp climb up to Culver, then a long, gentle downhill into Sandown.
The beach at Sandown was heaving. I really don't see any appeal whatsoever about stripping half naked and lying in the sun on a beach, but the various beachside cafes and bars that I passed were considerably more tempting, where people were sitting in summer clothes, enjoying long slow cold drinks or a nice glass of wine.
Then along the revetement to Shanklin, where the water feature in the pirate, er, thing was disturbingly bloody.
At the far end of Shanklin, there path goes well nigh vertically up the cliff, by way of a long, winding stair, and then there's a further uphill slog up a road, with occasional glimpses back across Sandown Bay.
Then through the Landslip and down to the sea wall at Bonchurch, where there's a lovely, tiny church. I photograph this one every time I pass, so why change the habit this time?
And from there, it's not much over a mile into Ventnor, where I caught a bus to Newport, and from there another bus back to Cowes.
There's a round the island ultra challenge on today, in which participants run (or walk) the entire coastal path (72 miles) in 24 hours. Since I was 35 miles ahead of them when I started this morning, none of them had caught up with me, but there signs were all in place. SO MANY SIGNS! I have never seen a route so well signed, sometimes with arrows or little flags every 10 steps or so, and with every possible hazard - overhanging branches etc - marked with more flags. Obviously, when you have people running along a cliff edge in the dark, frequent, clear, fluorescent signs are a must, but, even so, I was very impressed by just how thorough the organisers had been. Last year, walking the same route 1 day later, there was not a single sign left - at least, not until I overtook the sign removal team. I wonder how many thousands of signs they'll have to remove.
Today was Cowes to Ventnor in a clockwise direction.
There's a new Floating Bridge across the river that separates West Cowes from East Cowes. It's been fraught with mishap and woe, causing various incidents of running aground and long periods in which it couldn't run at low tide, and many locals have totally lost confidence in it, but it has one nice advantage over the old one: it has a deck, meaning that foot passengers can stand out in the sunshine for their long, storm-tossed voyage across the mighty deep, before reaching the other side of the vasty ocean about 90 seconds later.
Here is the iconic hammerhead crane of West Cowes. I have to admit that I can't remember just why it's iconic, and why it Must Be Preserved At All Costs, but it is. So here it is.
Then through the streets of East Cowes, heading slowly uphill, with nice views down to the river across vast acres of oilseed rape, and then past St Mildred's Church in Whippingham. Prince Albert had a hand in designing this one.
The road walking went on for a good few more miles, since the Osborne Estate occupies most of the coast near East Cowes, so the footpaths need to divert far inland. Along back lanes to Wootton, through narrow jitties (or insert regional term of choice, if you prefer) along the backs of houses, down to Wootton Creek. On the coastal side, the creek was pretty, with boats pulled up on the muddy banks, but there was no pavement on that side of the busy road, so across the road I had to go. Oh well.
Then through the woods, past the ferry terminal, and across to Quarr Abbey, with its unexpected architecture.
Quarr Abbey has pigs!
And piglits! Piglits with corvids growing out of their heads!
One piglet was chasing a pair of ducks, who tolerated it for a while, then turned and... oh how cruel! They LOOKED AT HIM! This was so terrifying that the piglet ran squealing back to mum, which was cute and funny, but rather annoying, since I was JUST about to take a picture of him with the mighty, towering giant ducks.
Near Binstead Church I saw a squirrel. I even managed to photograph it, too. This doesn't often happen.
Then down into Ryde, for the long, long walk along Ryde seafront, looking across the sands to Portsmouth. Here is Appley Tower, a folly.
Then along the Seaview sea wall, and up and over a small hill, before descending to the coast at St Helens, where there is half a church.
From the St Helens coast to the Bembridge coast, across the mouth of Bembridge Harbour, it must be barely 30 yards as the crow flies. Unfortunately, as the walker walks, it's more like 2 miles. It was even further this time, since the causeway across one inlet of the harbour was closed, so I had to detour into St Helens village itself. This did at least give me a nice view down across the harbour.
Then around the harbour on the road, past many houseboats, before heading through the leafy lanes of Bembridge, past palatial mansions, before heading down to the beach near the lifeboat station.
A little more road walking to get to the coastguard station, and then a nice clifftop walk followed by footpaths through woods, with occasional glimpses of the beaches below and Culver Cliff up ahead. Various caravan parks were passed, each of them heaving with happy holiday makers. Then a short, sharp climb up to Culver, then a long, gentle downhill into Sandown.
The beach at Sandown was heaving. I really don't see any appeal whatsoever about stripping half naked and lying in the sun on a beach, but the various beachside cafes and bars that I passed were considerably more tempting, where people were sitting in summer clothes, enjoying long slow cold drinks or a nice glass of wine.
Then along the revetement to Shanklin, where the water feature in the pirate, er, thing was disturbingly bloody.
At the far end of Shanklin, there path goes well nigh vertically up the cliff, by way of a long, winding stair, and then there's a further uphill slog up a road, with occasional glimpses back across Sandown Bay.
Then through the Landslip and down to the sea wall at Bonchurch, where there's a lovely, tiny church. I photograph this one every time I pass, so why change the habit this time?
And from there, it's not much over a mile into Ventnor, where I caught a bus to Newport, and from there another bus back to Cowes.
There's a round the island ultra challenge on today, in which participants run (or walk) the entire coastal path (72 miles) in 24 hours. Since I was 35 miles ahead of them when I started this morning, none of them had caught up with me, but there signs were all in place. SO MANY SIGNS! I have never seen a route so well signed, sometimes with arrows or little flags every 10 steps or so, and with every possible hazard - overhanging branches etc - marked with more flags. Obviously, when you have people running along a cliff edge in the dark, frequent, clear, fluorescent signs are a must, but, even so, I was very impressed by just how thorough the organisers had been. Last year, walking the same route 1 day later, there was not a single sign left - at least, not until I overtook the sign removal team. I wonder how many thousands of signs they'll have to remove.