Our stay at Longstone B&B was delightful, and our hosts couldn’t have been more helpful. We had a lovely breakfast and were provided with a packed lunch as I had been unable to book a meal in the pub in Simonsbath. We awoke to drizzle and mist and when we spoke to Jess at breakfast she advised against taking the route across the moors, saying that it was particularly boggy at the moment and not pleasant in bad weather. We therefore decided to take the road to Simonsbath, leaving later than usual as it was a shorter day.

The route was hilly but uninteresting with high hedges on either side, and we spent time leaping onto the verge to avoid fast cars, unexpected on a Sunday morning! The cloud had settled and visibility was poor, so we knew we had made the right decision. We arrived at the Exmoor Forest Inn and were told that if we were prepared to wait until 2.30 pm they could fit us in for lunch. We settled gratefully in the lounge with coffee and were happy to make use of the internet to book further accommodation.

We had been told by the landlady at Warren Farm that we needed to book in late, as she was assisting at the Point to Point, so we were prepared to spend the afternoon at the pub. However, we learned that this had been cancelled because of the fog! By the time we had eaten, the fog had cleared and the sun was shining and we decided to head for the farm via the moorland route. This was an attractive route, but we arrived at Warren Farm with very wet, muddy feet! We are now in Somerset and have walked more than 200 miles!

A Backward Glance

Jess looked at the elderly couple at breakfast and the mist outside her kitchen window and told them people were being diverted off the moor and they should take the ‘B’ road instead. In her head she saw two old fogies stuck in bog, lost in fog, not knowing where they were or where they were going. We heeded her advice and left following Cowards Way up and down tarmac hills for three hours towards the Inn where rest and refreshment beckoned us. Fleets of Porsche cars passed us (about thirty altogether) none waving or smiling as we hugged hedges to avoid them; but then I’ve never waved or smiled at snails on the road either. After a long drink and rest at the Inn the sun was out again and a route over moorland to our digs seemed a good idea. It was then that Jess’s vision was realised as two bewildered seniors stumbled down a steep slope of tufted bog land after Mr. ‘Komoot’ had ‘mistified’ them onto the wrong side of a river which they now need to wade across. All my life I’ve never felt young or old but just the same, however today was an exception as we staggered, wet and wobbly, up to Warren Farm much later and older than expected.