We say a sad farewell to our fellow holiday makers as they set off for home and kindly drop us at Woolacombe for today’s trek.  A colourful cow and numerous surfers’ vans line the esplanade out of the seaside resort. A café owner is setting up for the day at the cleverly decorated portacabin at Barricane Beach.

The coast path leads behind the Watersmeet hotel, in hindsight they probably do a good Devon cream tea? But it’s early morning now and we have warm pasties in our backpacks for later.

A handful of desirable residencies line the route away from civilisation and on to the low clifftop path to Morte Point. My, the route is super busy today as we continually step aside to let others pass.

The wind is gusting against us, with a roar from the choppy sea it creates quite an atmosphere as we reach Morte Point and pose for photos.  The lines of the slate rock stick straight out of the sea like the jagged teeth of a crocodile.

It’s a delightful stroll along a single file track, which is fairly level all the way to Bull Point, with the occasional steps, but nothing like as arduous as the Hartland Point Walk. We are disappointed not to see the nose of a seal poking out of the water, despite numerous signs asking us not to disturb them.  I guess the tide is high and it’s fairly choppy today.

Bull Point lighthouse is not the most photogenic and the adjacent stone-clad bungalow with modern windows lacks the finesse of the normal Trinity House design.

It’s a slow descent and ascent out of the next wooded valley, zig-zagging through the high bracken and faded flowers of summer. Although, numerous foxglove seedlings are poking their way through the leaf litter, bring promise for next spring. There’s one more valley to stomp through before we pop out onto a small road in Lee Bay – a cluster of houses straddling the rocky bay.

A derelict hotel building at the centre of Lee Bay is surrounded by Heras fencing, pretty gardens turned into a work site, an orange digger sitting in the grounds.  A trawl through the internet suggests stylish apartments, a new car park and a café designed in consultation with the community. But today all is quiet.

We take the road out of the village towards “The Blue Mushroom”. For a while it’s possibly the dullest bit of coast path ever – a tarmac road sunk between high hedges, no glimpse or even sound of the sea. A walker coming towards us warns of a narrow path, three cows width with three cows on it!  So we stop for lunch when we find a spot with a sea view and wait for the cows to pass through.

The lamb and mint pasty from Fudgies in Woolacombe, followed by a Rocky Road prepares me for the last bit of cliff path before Ilfracombe.

The cows have dispersed along the cliff allowing us to continue through an open gate to the next field.  One minute we are exchanging greetings with a young guy passing by, the next minute Nigel shouts “watch out”, grabs me as cows literally run as fast as their fat bellies allow either side of us, one skidding over at our feet! They join their friends at the bottom of the hill as if nothing has happened.  Oh my, we could so easily have been knocked over and crushed in their enthusiasm to join their pack.

We are jolly pleased to pass through the next gate and see no fresh “pats” around us.  Seven Hills, marked on the map, turns out to be a series of zig-zag paths through woodland knows as the Torrs.

As the Torrs turn meld into a residential area on the outskirts of Ilfracombe the coast path is symbolised by footsteps on the path.  Following the winding path through residential streets and parks we arrive at a collection of unusual “kiln-like” structures which turn out to be the Landmark Theatre – designed to look like lime kilns.

We stop to chat to the lady in the tourist information (it turns out todays trip to Lundy was cancelled due to the weather), then the forecasted rains start to fall and we find the bus stop and wait for the bus to take us back to Braunton and on to Croyde.