We’ve eaten at the Babbling Brook Inn, watched the snooker world championships in our tent lit up by the glow from Hinckley Point and got frustrated with the dog in the next door tent that won’t stop woofing. Make sandwiches, move a car to Combwich then Dean, Nigel and I head straight from the campsite back to the coast path.

We start at a major roundabout outside the power stations then round the far side of the humming development back towards the beach, under the strings of power lines feeding electricity away. It’s surprisingly idyllic with a grass lined stream, the yellow rape seeds riding high above the grass.

When we get to the coast, large orange-lichen covered boulders border the shingle beach and a tarmacked path take us up the Bristol channel – all land ahead looks flat.

A memorial bench is dedicated to Brenda and Brendan Sellick is set beside a little garden with a home-made firepit and lantern.

We meet Heather and Jen and more dogs at Steart car park where we find a spot to picnic at the top of the beach before wandering round Steart Marshes.

The sun is glimpsing through the cotton-wool clouds, the grass underfoot is extremely green and there are wild flowers galore, along with wide fields of swaying grasses, already browned off.

The curious cows come right up to the field edge to greet us. At Steart Point we discover a fabulous two storied lookout with incredible views over the Bridgwater Bay nature reserve.  We turn back on the inner edge of the peninsula alongside the River Parrett, which we will be following for a very long way!

The well made up pathways / minor roads meander through the nature reserve with blooming hedgerows of cowslip, hawthorn, wild rose, hazel, field maple and lush grasses. The area is dotted with bird hides and small ponds and has a real feel of a nature reserve, despite the hum of the powerlines overhead.

The estuary at this point is wide, very brown and a little menacing, it’s no surprise there is no crossing for many miles. At just after 4, after around 5 hours of walking we arrive in the little village of Combwich.  It’s time for a well-earned drink but the pub is shut so we head straight back to our campsite to raid the cool boxes, light the bbq and play a round of Taco, Cat, Goat, Cheese, Pizza.