Day 11: Dartmouth to Start Point

It has been established since the last trip that the (supposed) rock star who was killed by the falling bale of hay near Totnes was someone from the Electric Light Orchestra. No such fascinating local titbits of news from today’s Colin on the way back to Dartmouth. Weather looking miserable on the hills as we pass the no doubt very sociable Dartmouth Club de Petanque, and no sign of a break in the clouds when we arrive at the town quayside in a light but persistent drizzle. So once we’re under way, we don’t see the local sights at their best – in fact we don’t see Dartmouth Castle at all because the path “diverts” past it. At least the drizzle has stopped by the time we reach Stoke Fleming, and Blackpool Sands are traversed in the dry, but it’s still cloudy and dank. Onwards past Strete and down the long stretch of Slapton Sands, refreshment was no doubt taken, perhaps in Torcross, but at the time of re-writing this (nearly two years on) memory is slightly dimmed. By contrast, the clouds must have lifted during the afternoon because Start Point lighthouse is viewed against relatively bright skies. But we’re now up against early sunset times and, when we finish for the day, it’s somewhat darker than we would wish and the route from the path to our accommodation at Down Farm is less than clear. One assumes that the route we take isn’t the prescribed one because it involves scaling a barbed wire fence and a couple of walls before trudging hopefully across a field and then, at long last, seeing a light which proves to be from a torch held by the farmer who has come out to find us. His concern is matched by his family’s very welcome overnight hospitality.