Introduction


When we started walking the coast of England we had no intention that this would become a major lifetime project. Having to make a last-minute arrangement for our summer holiday in 1987, we said "Let's go to the nearest piece of coast and see how far we can walk along it." It turned out well and we started adding further stretches of coast, initially once every two years, but soon annually, or even twice a year.

We had always enjoyed the coast - there is something refreshingly "edgy" about having the sea always at our side, and one of us was into marine molluscs. We also enjoyed long-distance walking and had long been involved in general natural history recording. This project enabled us to combine all three interests.

You soon discover when embarking on a project like this that you need a few rules, which evolve from the first experiences. Our main rule was that we should walk as close to the coast as possible, which meant beach-walking whenever we could (unlike the official coast paths that largely remain above shore, recognising that at high tides the beach may be inaccessible). The route should also be capable of being a continuous walk, so that when we came to an unfordable river we walked inland along its banks to the first place at which we could cross, whether a bridge or a ferry.

We only carried light packs, so that at the end of each day's walk we had the problem of getting back to our car where we started. Initially we walked back, but soon realised we would be walking the coast twice this way! We used public transport whenever this was available - buses or trains, sometimes adjusting our start and finish points to make this easier. Failing this - and it was often not possible - we would phone for a taxi (an increasingly costly option over the years). Having our car with us gave us more freedom as to where we could stay at night - and after a day walking and only light food we were usually ready for being spoiled by a good meal and a comfortable bed! Even so, we stayed on the coast itself whenever there was a decent option.

Each walk was made for enjoyment, it was not a route-march to see how quickly we could get it finished. We therefore took it gently at times when passing through pleasant scenery or where there were many plants or creatures to record.

In terms of biological recording, we systematically noted every bird, butterfly, creature or sea-shell that we came across, sometimes spending time searching for the shells. We could not record every plant in the same way - there are too many common ones - so we were more selective, noting all coastal plants and any others that were not run-of-the-mill.

In our daily posts, edited from our original diaries, we include a star-rating from no star to **** according to our subjective estimate as to how special that day was from the point of view of natural history. This score (and our daily records) will, however, have been affected by the weather - it is difficult to appreciate the environment fully, for instance, in torrential rain, and there are many more butterflies and other insects to be seen in warm sunshine!

A summary of all our natural history records on the walk can be found using this link: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B1LLGD55lKRHYXd1SGU1QndrcUU/edit?usp=sharing





Friday 13 December 2013

South Devon 3/8/1994: Sidmouth to Budleigh Salterton



Fulmar nesting
 
Lesser bird’s-foot trefoil
 
Budleigh Salterton beach
This day’s walk featured shingle beaches alternating with rock-platforms and boulders from the tall vertical cliffs of Lias clays until we reached the Devonian sandstones at Budleigh.  The friable cliffs, were bare, except for a little thrift, and starkly red.  The unconsolidated shingle made walking tedious.  There were few notable plants except a few yellow horned-poppies.  A large conger eel had been washed up.   Being close to low tide, we were able to negotiate several headlands, some of which had sea-stacks populated with wing-drying cormorants.  We reached Sandy Bay but the tide cut us off from Ladram Bay.  We had a race with the tide to return to the safety of Sidmouth Beach, sometimes wading through wild sea where previously we had climbed over dry rock.  We had been very close to being cut off, and a patrolling helicopter presumably indicated that stranding here was frequent.  Steady heavy rain and lightning did not help!  Having returned to Sidmouth we took the car as far as we had walked and continued from there along the cliffs.  Two boys were diving off a tall rock stack, having climbed up the sheer face by rope. 
     On the way to Budleigh we noticed fulmars still nesting in holes in the red cliffs, although the chicks were now almost fully grown and as large as their parents. Their grey-and-white patterned wings in flight and dark-striped eyes distinguished them easily from the abundant herring gulls, although the nostril-excrescence on top of the bill that identified them as albatrosses was only visible from up close.  Hedgerows yielded various rough-country plants like alexanders, bugloss, chicory, tree mallow, tansy, crow garlic, slender thistle and fennel.  More notable was a little lesser bird’s-foot trefoil. To reach Budleigh we still had to negotiate the River Otter by going upstream about a mile to reach a bridge.  There was a nature reserve here with reed-beds and a hide, but we saw only Canada geese, herons, gulls and mallards, with a few lapwings and curlews.  On the west bank of the Otter we explored the shingle spit projecting eastwards into the river mouth, but there was little of interest, the vegetation being sea purslane, sea couch and sea-beet.  The cliff fronting Budleigh had silver ragwort and Kaffir fig.
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