Some gorgeous scenery today and a dramatic moment when I reached Baggy Point beyond Woolacombe. I stood there on a bit of land which jutted out to the sea and could see behind me the coast of Wales in the distance, Morte Point (another jutting-out bit I'd passed yesterday) and before me could see the next finger of land which ended at the sea (Hartland Point) and it made me draw in my breath when I realised I could visualise what this landscape looked like on the map and would be able to identify the exact point when looking at a map. A good moment. I'm loving the bits which touch the Atlantic, where the waves crash quite dramatically against the coast and I can see why the whole smuggler/wrecks/Atlantic coast thing is so sort of romantic. I mean, it's wilder and more primitive and more at the mercy of the elements than Southend, innit?
PS I'm just having supper in the bar of my lodgings and there are 3 men and the barman at the bar sneaking looks at me (woo hoo, a woman in a pub! take a picture) and trying to look big by saying 'fuck' and 'fucking' a lot. I don't think they realise that every time I raise my beer glass I am wiggling my little finger at them meaningfully.
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