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, 24 January 2014

Somerset: Hewish to Woodhill Bay 10/10/2002***


 

Bridge over M5
 
Water-worn rock at Portishead
 
Twisted ram’s-horn
We parked in Hewish, which comprises a few buildings scattered along the main road, and took the side road to East Hewish, where the path began.  The path had been diverted and had us in a quandary until we were able to get the help of an amenable farm worker.  It led to a tunnel under the motorway, with a narrow walkway beside a stream, but this was too flooded to attempt without wellingtons so we had to detour NW to a farm-track bridge over the M5.  This path took us into Kingston Seymour village, and we had to walk back west to where we should have emerged, continuing then to walk the village roads towards the coast.  Just before we entered the village, in a pond beside Yewtree Farm, we discovered rootless duckweed among common and large duckweeds, feeling just like grit when rolled between fingers.  Along the road there was another pond with fringed water-lily and masterwort.  Michaelmas daisy and ostrich fern were naturalised here too.  The streams yielded freshwater shells, including twisted ram’s-horn Bathyomphalus contortus.  We walked as far as Channel View Farm and discovered a permissive path that enabled us to walk the rest of the way to Clevedon along the seashore embankments, examining the saltmarsh plants and birds, including shelduck, curlew and smaller waders like dunlin and sanderling.  It was a pleasant and easy walk, except for crossing the land of one farmer in the middle section who kept his gates locked, forcing us to climb over.  There was even a bridge over the Blind Yeo to get into Clevedon.  We had lunch on a seat before climbing up Wain’s Hill and then walking down along the town’s sea front.  There was no sand beach here, only rocks and shingle.  A little bit of road near the pier yielded a single stalk of a bottle-grass Setaria pumila by a wall. A footpath led along the cliff-top all the way to Portishead, with frequent views down the low cliff to a raised beach of limestone, riddled with wave-worn holes, and seaweed-covered rock and mud below that.  The path was reminiscent of those along the Cornwall and Devon coasts and a change from the flat Levels country we had been traversing for so long.  There were occasional limestone turf plants like yellow-wort, but only infrequently, the land being mainly covered by scrub and bracken.  This path by-passed the built-up suburban areas leading into Portishead and maintained its rural character as far as Woodhill Bay and the boating-lake.  While waiting for the taxi to take us back to Hewish we briefly examined the saltmarsh and found long-stalked orache.  An unpromising day had yielded a surprising number of interesting plants.
 
Approaching Portishead

 
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