I knew I had to reach Minehead by public transport, so I mentally prepared for the five-hour morning trek before the actual trek even began. The second leg, from Taunton to Butlins, listed 62 stops, which looked incredibly fishy on paper. It was only quite late that I realized it was actually a bus ride! Just three stops before the end, I realized I should get down at Minehead station instead of the Butlins gate to make life easier. Luckily, that last-minute adjustment saved me a whole kilometer of walking. On Day 1, a map was essential to maintain speed and timing, as the paths weren't always easy to understand.
The trail took me through the woods, following the path up North Hill. Soon, there was a bifurcation. The map only recognized the curved route, while a perfectly decent straight route stared me in the face. Being Day 1, I listened to Ashwini diligently and followed the long route. When it eventually joined the other path, I realized someone had made a shortcut that simply had a slightly higher elevation! It was a decent climb, but I was filled with enthusiasm; it felt like a casual stroll. Once the woods ended, the open space began, revealing those incredible coastal views.
Then I kept on walking, walking, and walking. I must have slept in between, as I can’t remember the majority of the details. I was writing this blog in my head as I moved; it looked interesting and funny. I had full confidence that I would remember every detail and thought I would finish it soon after reaching my B&B. What better thing to do without the hassle of work and family!
Then came a section with markings showing a different route than my OS Maps. The map was simpler, while the other path went dangerously close to the beachside cliffs! It was tempting, but I stayed in line. Half a kilometer later, I saw people on that other path and couldn't control myself—those views looked breathtaking.
I took a giant breath, prayed to my wife's God, and started forging a perpendicular route that was neither in the OS Map nor the second-hand guidebook. It was probably only 300m, but it was the most difficult decision I had to make. I could hear Ashwini shouting, "DANGER!" Pushing through the bushes wasn't easy, even for an elephant.
At the same time, there were 5-6 cows grazing nearby—the biggest I have ever seen. In my roots, cows are the kindest animals; I worship them and have never eaten beef. But then I remembered a Bill Bryson book, The Road to Little Dribbling, where he says a couple of deaths happen every year due to cow attacks! That changed my impression completely. I still wouldn’t mind being killed by a cow in India; it would be a holy death one can only wish for. But these are genetically modified Jerseys—there is no guarantee of a safe heaven!
I immediately checked my phone for the stats on how many people were already dead this year. If it was none or one, statistically I was in real trouble. But the phone was disconnected from the world. My battery was at 30%, and my black-market backup phone follows an exponential discharge curve. I tried charging from my super-charger, but it wouldn't work—some cabling issues. Panic set in.
Then I saw people running toward me. I was certain they were planning to rob my second-hand guidebook. Ashwini’s prediction was coming true within hours! I marched faster in the aftermath of a total collapse, passing the "cows" only to realize they were actually ponies—and Bryson said nothing about ponies being dangerous. The "robbers" turned out to be elderly retirees. They heard my epic plans and said, "If there is one person who could do it, it would be you!" They filled me with energy. Unlike my younger days, I like old people more now; they are the only ones as wise as me. Years ago, an elderly man in the New Forest scolded us for walking on the road. We had just moved from India—how were we supposed to know? Back then, I confirmed old Brits can be extremely racist. But things got better after I got my British passport and started becoming "old" myself!
After they left, the phone finally started charging. I marched along the cliff edges, getting glimpses of the days to come. Every now and then I’d meet retirees with big smiles. My mother always said I don’t talk much but I smile well; I was doing both when it was just me and my path.
I don’t remember what happened next—I must have been sleepwalking. But I was full of energy, so it felt amazing, without an iota of boredom. It was almost hallucinatory, like being at a peak with some unknown mushrooms. I was paying attention to everything: birds singing, winds blowing, even the different mechanisms of the gate locks.
I found myself deeply disappointed with a lock that had rounded edges—a total waste of metal. The first gate was simpler. I figured someone who should have been an artist became an engineer instead, which means they were very likely Indian.
Lost in these thoughts, I reached Porlock by 3:40 PM. My B&B check-in was at 4:00, so I entered a coffee shop nearby. I was the only person there, so the owner was all ears for my story. He had a world map for visitors and would ask selected people to put a pin on their location. Obviously, he wanted me to do that as well, but I had to give up my British passport for a moment to pin India. I was the second Indian to visit; the first one was from Kashmir, so technically I can say I am the first Indian to have coffee there. What a great accomplishment!
I went to Myrtle Cottage at 4:00. Another couple was already waiting to check in at the exact same time; they were doing small bits of coastal sections. Tyrone was managing the property and was perhaps the kindest person I have met in a while. He was retired, while his partner Neil was still working and helping out. Tyrone spent a lot of time talking to me over tea; he was an avid walker too. We discussed a wide range of trekking topics. My Kilimanjaro t-shirt, which I wear everywhere to show off, was finally giving me the persona I wanted!
But I was still getting used to the names of the local places and confused him by saying I was planning to go all the way to Combe Martin. He went inside, visibly concerned, and complained to Neil about my "unscientific plans." Neil dropped all his work and joined our conversation now. I looked up the precise location and shared the postcode of my destination. They said it was still ambitious, but if anyone can do it, it would be only me!
I got the energy to finish the next day in style, but I was also worried. Breakfast only starts at 8:30 AM, which would be too late for me. I panicked, rushed to the nearby Spar, and bought two samosas and a few bananas—the only ready-made vegan options available. Tyrone said he would have provided some options, but I didn't want him to worry more about me. We changed topics to culture, social economics, religion, parenting, and artificial intelligence. I forgot about the blog for a moment, but I realized I had more material for it now. All that talking made my mouth dry, so I headed to the pub for dinner and two pints of beer. The waiter said I really deserved it!
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