Sea
clover
Banded
demoiselle
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Parking at Combwich was easy, but finding the
continuation of the Parrett Trail was far from so, with no signs to indicate
where it leaves the village and the first sign only on a stile at the
beginning of a hidden path that was overgrown. The first section along the west embankment
of the Parrett was relatively easy, if dull, passing through agricultural
land, but the first sign of trouble was a locked gate that had to be climbed. Eventually the official trail turned off
south directly away from the river.
From here, although still a public footpath, the continuation along
the embankment became increasingly difficult – unmarked, unkempt with very
long grass that filled our boots with prickly seeds, no stiles but continual
rickety gates, and fields with aggressive herds of cows. We would not know there was a footpath here
at all if it was not clearly marked on the map. Miles of this were quite exhausting, and we
did not get to take our lunch until 2pm, the conditions being too
uncomfortable to stop earlier. We ate
on the bank of the river facing the Dunball industrial estate, a few gulls on
the river, emptying our boots and socks of pernicious clinging seeds, and
removing thorns from our fingers.
After that there was just one further stretch of long grass, although
the path did not become clear until we reached the outskirts of Bridgwater
and rounded the sewage works! All the
way the vegetation had been uninteresting, with only a narrow saltmarsh
outside the embankment, although there were patches of sea wormwood, sea
clover and strawberry clover on the side of the bank facing the river, and we
did see a banded demoiselle dragonfly. As we entered Bridgwater past a new
industrial estate adjoining the sewage works, we found a new road and bridge
had been built across the Parrett, just where the Parrett Trail joined the
river for a short while, saving us the half kilometre further to the older
bridge in the centre of the town. The
public footpath on the opposite bank of the river, however, was completely
obliterated, so that we had to pass northwards along another road through an
industrial estate until we met the A38.
A pavement enabled us to follow this north, suffering the noise and
fumes of heavy traffic, to a roundabout where it became a dual carriageway
and beyond that for another mile as far as Dunball. Here, across the road, there was a pub
called the Admiral’s Table, but it did not seem to be open. However, just beside it was a bus stop,
enabling us to catch a bus into the centre of town to the bus station, and
thence another bus back to Combwich.
All we saw of Bridgwater had been endless industrial estates, some
poor shops, and a bus station – not a place that invited return! We agreed that this was not our best day.
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View,
from lunch on embankment, of Dunball industrial estate
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