Day 4.

Salcombe Regis to Exeter
24 miles

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We awake to rain, drizzle, grey skies, more rain and soaking wet tents and bikes! It was a case of packing inside tents and then just getting on with taking down tents in the rain resigning ourselves to the fact that we couldn’t get any wetter.

Tearing down the A3052 at 30 odd mph in the pouring rain, wet spray spinning up in my face from my front wheel making visibility extremely difficult, praying I don’t hit an iron man-hole cover and spin out or just losing grip on the slippery speedy descent, I reach the bottom wetter than if I had just jumped into the Exe with my socks full of water. And laughing out loud because, after all of the above, it was still great fun and something one doesn’t do often.

There was no time to fanny around seeking tea and food so we just marched on in the rain for 12 sodden miles or 12 rain sodden miles until we reach Budleigh Salderton. ‘God’s waiting room’ as one local tells us in the same breath as the bit where she said there was no cafes in the town. We leave one of our number guarding our bikes outside a couple of shops whose awnings would provide shelter whilst we ate take outs from the bakery. Returning we find him on the other side of the road in the rain with our bikes having been turfed away the premises. In the rain, the pouring cold, damp, grey rain Budleigh Salderton could not find any ‘milk of human kindness’.

Traipsing around we find a shelter overlooking the sea on the cliff edge and we eat and drink tea the bakery afforded us – which I have to say wasn’t half bad! The rain eases and it isn’t long before we are joined by an unusual old lady. I thought she was some sort of bag lady with a hole in her shoe and well er .. a bag. But the general consensus was that she was just an old lady that definitely had her marbles and probably just stopped off at the shelter from to time to time to look out to sea, sit quietly and be alone with her thoughts. Today she had company. Three new individuals with a vaguely unusual story to be told, in her Budleigh Salderton lifestory. To us, as we leave and are given a Mars bar each, one kind, generous soul – the shining light of Budleigh Salderton putting some of those we met who lacked humility, to shame. Beddy likened her to his gran who used to give him sweets when his parents weren’t looking.

Pushing the bikes up the clifftop path we descended (some with brakes) down towards a disused railway line which coasted us fantastically down through Exmouth to the Starcross Ferry.

Eating our Mars Bars(that obviously brought us good luck as we just walked onto the ferry although Beddy almost choked to death on his whilst Percy documented the incident on his camera) we crossed the Exe, passed Cockwood, to Starcross.

After another cuppa, this time in the Atmospheric pub, we cross the railway line and cycle along the river northwards to Exeter. The ride was beautiful. Fantastic scenery and wildlife for example Fallow Deer in Powderham Castle enclosure to the left, estuary and wildlife (including a multitude of waders) in all its glory to the right.

On and on heading north, easy riding, almost a glorious, victorious procession (like coming down the 'Champs Elysees' at the end of well known long distance cycle race….not too different from ours :) The cheers of adoring fans are replaced by the sound of sedge, reed and cetti’s warblers, yellowhammers with the occasional views of Otter and Rabbit. (What a load of b***cks i hear you say)

  

The Exe and canal begin to reveal more man-made sites, roads, bridges, buildings and boats – all interesting but the further we cycled we realised the ride was coming to an end and we amble…which was great because although we were pre-designed to start and finish a route, a to b, each day we had time to enjoy this last stage.

An interesting ride through the centre of Exeter and we arrive at Exeter St. James station. The end. Well sort of. The first train couldn’t us so we ride back along the river to some interesting shops that had a pub. Celebratory drink and ponderings about what we have achieved and we head back to the station, dodging dockside cygnets, and we end up at the end again.

This time we say goodbye to one of our number, the very important, trustworthy guide and celebrated GPS map programmer, who was bloody brilliant in getting us from A to B….namely Percy.

It is not long before Beddy and I are on the train home via Salisbury and by the time it takes me to read The Independent I am on my bike cycling from Fratton train station, Portsmouth to my house. Four days and 160 miles of sheer fantastic fun (most of the time) getting there – 3 South West train hours to return.

Something great achieved, another chapter not to be forgotten. What is on the next page? Exeter to Truro? Bring it on…..