LEJOG Day 17: Crediton to Silverton

Weather: Hot and sunny with breeze

Distance covered today: 14.5km (9.0mi)

Last night's B&B: Taw Vale  (£36)

% Complete: 16.8%

GPS satellite track of today's route: Day 17 (click!)

It seems I’m not alone. Most of the people doing LEJOG are only mildly disturbed and do the journey on bicycles, but the certifiably insane minority seem to need to do it on two legs. Until recently, my chosen path zigzagged south of the optimal route, but as I have gradually meandered Northwards, with Richard insisting that if I didn’t change direction soon, I was more likely to make Moscow than Scotland, so I have entered into the mainstream of both sorts of Lejogers.

Not that I’ve seen any Lejog walkers. In fact I have yet to see a single long-distance walker. There was evidence of the presence of cyclists at the last two B&Bs; Lycra dangling from the line and earnest conversations with back-up team members about pasta, but no, apparently us mad walkers blend skilfully into the foliage and are scarcely visible.  Probably a good thing too. We would not want to scare the locals!

The big advantage of being back on the beaten track is that people are much more familiar, if not bored, with the concept of LEJOG, which means that it is no longer necessary to explain the whole thing every time one meets someone, and one can get on with the more interesting aspect of asking them what they are up to.  That, though, may sometimes lead to an unhappy result.

This morning, I met a man who seemed to be seriously on edge. He was an older person, I’d say mid to late seventies and he looked his age. He told me, after beating around the bush for a while, that he was in Crediton to see his institutionalised third son. At first, as I say, he was reluctant to talk about it, but then the floodgates opened. He comes from somewhere in Wiltshire, and his son, who has been institutionalised from a young age, was reasonably close at hand. Then the authorities decided that he would have to move to Crediton to an appropriate facility there. His father was initially reluctant because of the distance.  (His mother is no longer on the scene. The father is remarried to a woman who seemed to be uninvolved).  He takes the bus down to Crediton every few months to visit his son and he says he is very happy with the treatment his son is receiving, because the facility is apparently very small with one-on-one attention for the patients.

But now, as part of the government’s spending cuts, the plan is to move his son to what his Dad describes as one of those “hellish” places where no-one knows anyone and “all they do is give them drugs to shut them down!” He said that this was not going to happen to his son. He just wouldn’t let it happen.  He was determined that he would win the battle and he believed that he would.

I had my own private reservations about whether the system would bow to the personal preferences of a patient’s parent, but I let it go. He was clearly very agitated about the problem and he welcomed a sympathetic ear.

He then said he never discussed politics and immediately launched into a tirade of extremely conservative views.  I find it interesting that someone like him, clearly from a working-class background, entirely dependent on the state for his own support and that of one of his disabled sons has such conservative views. One would have thought the Labour Party would have been his natural home, but, no, he had voted Conservative and always would. It becomes gradually clearer to me that logic is not a useful tool for the distillation and understanding of politics in the UK, if anywhere!  And it does explain the sometimes rather confusing policy choices of the main parties.

I was soon on my way to Silverton on a very pleasant morning, in bright sunshine with a cooling breeze. I had reason to reflect extensively on the good fortune I have been privileged to receive. Does it matter that one can think clearly, when the facts are that one is powerless to affect the deal that fate (or providence, or divine intervention, or whatever celestial or probabilistic influence you think it is that does it) decides for you?  Perhaps! I need to think about it!

And while I’m at it, perhaps I should consider that I have been subjecting you to all this drivel and then suddenly, this morning, I received this simply marvellous Haiku from my good friend Peter! Haiku is a sophisticated Japanese art form and I leave you to research its intricacies. Suffice it to say that it condenses 17 syllables into 3 lines and juxtaposes two ideas, one of which is observed as an everyday occurrence or state. Peter says "There is reference to Issa’s “A year of my life” – he took a year off to walk and write haiku poems." Here is Peter’s Haiku on my journey (if only I could be so concise!):

Time to walk, and think
Discovering nature, self;
A year of his life

Thank you, Peter….

I said yesterday that I would leave Crediton without a backward glance, but I did glance backwards and saw this rather extensive industrial estate. Helps explain the working character of the town.

I do know what these are! I just can't remember! Help!

This old girl came to talk to me while I was having lunch. She left the very second I ate the last bit of my sandwich to go and sit in the shade. I had guessed that she was more interested in my lunch than my blog. Ah well!

The River Exe on its way to Exeter!

Kids swimming in the Exe on the right bank. Ah, these lazy days of summer in April!!

So, after a really moderate walk in hot sunshine, here I am in Silverton!

And this is my accommodation for the night! The Silverton Hotel on its Steak Night! I had a 6oz steak; promise!