Grand Western Canal |
I was sorry to reach Tiverton, the canal had been such a puncture-free delight. I had no hesitation in awarding it the Best Canal Oscar. I dropped down to Tiverton and had two flat whites, a panini and an almond twist which all hit the spot perfectly. 5km of B road took me out of Tiverton, then I turned off through Pennymoor, Paddington, Black Dog and Morchard Bishop, which sounded like a vegetarian variation on the 'More tea vicar?' phrase.
Aqueduct |
There was a big descent into Sampford Chapple, then across to Brightly and into Okehampton.
I decided to use the youth hostel. I hadn't been in one since my late teens, and thought it would be nice to have people to talk to. And I'd heard they did nice rooms these days, and had really 'upped their game'.
It was a steep hill up the YH, where I was offered a shared dorm for £18. I suspected my gear-spreading tricks might be more suited to a private room, so I asked if they had any. Yes, for £50. That sounded pretty expensive, but I was tired and thought it would be a nice hotel-style room, so I stabled Horse in the drying room, which wasn't heated, and took my bags up to the room. It was a tad disappointing: small, with two bunk beds, an attached shower room with paint flaking off the ceiling, mouldy sealant, and a hand towel. If I hadn't been so tired I'd have gone and found a B&B where I'd at least get breakfast thrown in. The room overlooked the railway terminus, which was blaring out Christmas carols over tinny loudspeakers. I made myself a cup of tea, and found the common room, where a cooking programme was on the TV, and a chap sat there with his laptop wearing those "Don't even think about talking to me" headphones. So much for company. I drank up, grabbed my wallet from Room 101 and fled into town for food and beer, where the London Inn filled both those requirements. The barman tried to tempt me with a dessert, but with an ascent of Station Road imminent I wisely passed. As turned onto the side road to the hostel I noticed two things. The hostel was on Klondike Road, and having just had £50 extruded through the nostrils, that came as no surprise. Secondly the carols were still going full belt at the station and it was gone 8pm. I crossed the bridge to the station and enquired when the carols would be turned off. "When the next train comes in, which is soon." I should have asked for a definition of 'soon'. Temporarily mollified I returned to my cell and phoned Fiona. "What's that noise?" "Oh, Once in Royal David's City." "It's very loud isn't it?" Eventually the last train came in, and it sat there engine turning over noisily. I kept telling myself it was just the purring of a large cat, and gradually the blood pressure dropped as I started to drift off to sleep. Then the engine was turned off, and "Oh Come All Ye Faithful" took over. I soaked tissues and shoved them in my ears, but there was no escape. It was like an acoustic torture they use to break people, and just as I was on the verge of cracking it all went quiet.
Not another wrong turn! |
Back road bliss |
Day stats 90km 1136 Metres of ascent
Off road 18km
A road 2km
B road 10km
Unclassifed road 60km