more moors to morris

Heading out towards Bodmin was a steeper climb than I was ready for, but I eventually made it up to the Cheesewring. As I climbed up to the peak i had to jam my hat on so it didn't blow off down the mountain, and i could barely stand up right at the top as the wind was so strong. Amazingly as stood tall against the resistance of the elements two blokes with loads of photography gear turned up out of nowhere...

By the time i climbed down and skipped into minions village i was knackerd, it was lunchtime and I had only made a few miles towards my target for the day. Time for tea and cake, well herbal tea and a big slice of carrot cake. And a flapjack and banana if i'm honest, and a bag of nuts and seeds and an apple.

  It all did the trick and i made good ground that afternoon, picking up speed without my pack on and i could of kept going further if it wasn't for the fading light when Jane came to pick me up a few miles from Lostwithial.

  The next morning i felt fresh after a couple of days of good food not having to dance with my pack.

As i was dancing on the path alongside the main road into Lostwithial i could see a figure i recognised a couple of hundred yards ahead. It turns out to be fellow Brackley Morris man Steve Ferneyhough. I knew he was in the southwest and planning to meet up with me at the constantine festival in a few days but by sheer coincidence he had drove past me on the road. Steve generously bought me a huge lunch and after we parted i went to have a look round the local church which turned out to be closed.

  That afternoon i made slow progress to St Austell where i had to wait for a late train back to my host Imke's house in Lostwithial.  I was treated to a fine feast that evening or perhaps i should say i made a pig of myself? 



Adventures a plenty.

Nearly a week has passed and finally the chance to catch up..
Leaving Taunton early on another scorching day, I made it as far as wellington in a couple of hours. My pack felt light as did my feet and feeling proud of myself i stopped for an early lunch. It was here that I received a call from Sue Soloman who hoped i might pass by her house for a spot of lunch. Sue runs a local folk dance club and had been given my number by Bob. I had to turn down the offer as it would of meant extra miles that i didn't want to risk. But my heart was lifted.
  That afternoon took it's toll, my bag got heavy. A lady stopped to offer me a lift while i was doing a radio interview. I had just been thinking i carry to much water and there's always plenty of places to get water on route, so i needn't keep filling these bottles, and then i ran out! and there was no where to get a drink. The last few miles into Tiverton was a terrible struggle, the weather broke and a big black cloud loomed over head.  I just managed to hitch a lift to my hosts house before nightfall where I slept like a log and jumped out of bed to catch the early bus back into Tiverton and continue.
  A grey day on the road to Crediton with paths or verge on the main road. I see a lorry approaching and look behind to see another, I reach for a branch and pull myself up into the safety of the bush. I reach the Crediton Arms and despite my gesture of buying a packet of crisps the lady will not give me any tap water!
Three nights in a bed and breakfast, one day off and a slow start across the moors. I loose half a day looking for spinsters rock and walk ten miles separate from my trip. My diet is decending into beans on toast and flapjack.
  Friday is productive despite a late start after hitching back onto the route. I'm skipping across the moor and i have no idea how i didn't turn my ankle? I lost the path and came to a river and no sign of a bridge, i found the best place i could to cross but the stones where so slippy under my running shoes. Halfway across the river i realize i am about to go in the water and decide to throw my back to safety only to watch it roll down the bank. I hop over and grab my dripping bag out of the water somehow staying dry myself.
 Later i'm lost again in the most beautiful scenery and end up being chased across a dam by bulls that I cowboy is herding. Escaping to safety i seem to be stood underneath the biggest rainbow i've ever seen.
I end up dancing through the moor at night before finding a pub with bunk rooms just outside Lydford.
   Saturday i head off to Brentor and meet up with Carina, a belly dancer i met at Boomtown Fair, and her boyfriend Harry. We walk round the moors and discuss future plans for collaborations. Harry, Carina and Bobo the dog bid me fair well at Brentor on the following day, and i skip as far as Callington where i am reluctantly writting this in a hurry on my day off.
  Being very well looked after by my couchsurfing host Jane and her amazing children Tigan and Aengus.
Tomorrow is a long day over Bodmin moor....

Me and Carina with Brentor church in the background

Here we go again!

 Back in Glastonbury after hitching down in the blistering heat, i'm staying with Lynne who i met at Avebury on my last dance and her three daughters. They make me feel right at home and sing away while I cook supper for us.
 A spare day in before I leave gives me the chance to hippy it up, getting naked for a plunge in the pool in the white well temple. Just walking into the place sends shivers up my spine let alone being submerged in the ice waters.
  The town and the people are magic and it's the perfect boost at the start of my adventure. Let alone the weather, wow. Blistering sunshine beats down as I kick off from the tour, and somehow a man is playing the most beautiful music as I head off. Apples, blackcurrants and even walnuts are a plenty as I make my way out of town but the traffic is causing me problems as I dart in and out of the hedge on the side of the road.
  What a reception i received that day, it felt as though every car had beeped, waved or cheered me on before I finally got to Burrowbridge Mump. Thats where I met Alan who was able to take me back to my hosts in Glastonbury and run me back out to Burrowbridge in the morning, saving me the bus.
  Day two it all became real having the backpack to carry, and even though i threw caution to the wind and left my tent and thermals behind it still weighed a tonne and gave me a whole new perspective on this grueling trip.
A passed a lady named Pat who said seeing me reminded her of Cecil Sharp's in London and that I should band the door of the cottage after the next crossroads. I followed her advice and was treated to a drink and sandwich by Robert and Mary Blackburrow. Bob being a Morris dancer was immediately on the phone telly all the dance sides in the area, or as he put it "putting the word out on the bush telegraph". He then got his accordion out and played me up the road, and on I danced with a warm heart and a tune in my head.
  The Sun, My hat and the pack on my back all took it's toll, but the blackberry's must of kept me going and i finally made it to my new hosts house in Taunton.
  Another warm welcome in Somerset from Stacy and Marcus and I rum my eyes looking at the four poster bed i'll be sleeping..  in about forty minutes.. yawn.

Edit: i forgot to put pears on the list of roadside delights that sustained me.

and heres a pic from Glanstonbury Tor