LEJOG Day 21: West Bagborough to Bridgwater

Weather: Cloudy with strong Easterly, sunny later

Distance covered today: 14.9km (9.3mi)

Last night's B&B: Bashford's Farmhouse (£37.5)

Cumulative distance: 371.8km (231.0mi)/ % Complete: 21.1%

GPS satellite track of today's route: Day 21 (click!)

Another day, another crisis!  This time, it wasn’t the result of an accident, at least not another accident, but over the last couple of days, I have been finding it increasingly hard to connect to the network using Wifi. I won’t bore you with the details, but the problem gradually grew worse until last night, I decided I had to do something about it. After ruling out all the software possibilities, I became convinced that it was an intermittent hardware problem, possibly related to my original fall, when the screen cracked. I considered again replacing this netbook, but that is itself not a trivial process because of the software on-board this machine and the limited time I have anywhere to sort it all out, despite Veronica’s repeated offers to help me.

I decided to delay a decision until at least I had consulted a computer shop in Bridgwater, if I could find one with the necessary expertise, open on a Saturday afternoon during a special long weekend!  I could and I did, and there I met André, a fellow of indeterminate age who hails from Eastern Europe and whose command of English is, to be honest, limited.  However, we were able to communicate geek to geek, and I was amazed how quickly he understood my problem and indeed agreed with my analysis. He suggested I buy a USB Wifi network adapter to bypass my on-board adapter. I agreed but argued that I had no CD ROM drive to load the drivers. He enthusiastically cleared a space for me on his workbench, allowed me to open a brand new portable USB CD ROM drive without buying it to use to load the drivers, and for the price of piece of grilled fish, my problem is solved. We looked at each other with renewed respect afterwards. He asked me what I do for a living. I tried to explain, but got nowhere until I explained that my full-time occupation at present is walking. That seemed to satisfy him, though I have no idea why….

If anyone is still with me, I must apologise profusely for the foregoing, but there was no earthly way that this little triumph wasn’t going to find its way into this post!  Let me though return to earthier matters!  Today, the weather forecast confidently predicted rain in the South West and I thought my extraordinary luck was finally going to run out. I prepared all my rain-gear for easy access, though in the event, I didn’t need it. I left West Bagborough, climbing steeply to the top of the Quantock Hills in the teeth of a chilly Easterly wind with scudding clouds, but not a drop of rain fell. The air was sufficiently moist though that the views from the top of the Quantocks were limited and I couldn’t see the horizon in any direction. What I could see was stunning.  I hadn’t really heard of the Quantocks before. I suppose they are not imposing enough to command widespread interest, but the views of the verdant English countryside are magnificent, in some ways complemented today by the slightly foreboding atmosphere, which made the greens greener and the shadows more mysterious.

In stretches, I found myself walking through lovely forests, completely enveloped in bird-song. I’m not sure whether they were all yelling at each other about my intrusion or whether they were just singing while going about their urgent springtime duties, but either way, their concerto was splendid. One sour note was the presence of large numbers of a sort of black hover-fly, which seemed particularly fond of young blackberry bushes. They fly straight at you, for no apparent reason. I decided this was because they only have eyes for each other, as I found a number in flagrante delicto. This explains their large numbers at present, and possibly points to their imminent demise.

I suppose the views of the Quantocks valleys are so impressive because the high hedges on each side of the road prevent one from seeing the view as a continuing spectacle, so that every now and again, one is rewarded by a sudden break in the hedge to a fantastic snapshot of the countryside beyond. It occurred to me that these views would not be available to anyone in a car. Firstly, in anything smaller than a truck, one’s line-of-sight is too low to see over the hedges, and in any case, the hedges and roads tend to tunnel one’s vision to the road ahead, which may sometimes reveal a view, for instance when driving down a steep hill, but mostly restrict one’s vision.  Gaps in the hedges disappear too quickly to be seen.  This is of course another excellent reason for walking!  It somehow feels like I have an exclusive on all this marvellous countryside.

Eventually, I wandered into Bridgwater, frankly not expecting much: another slightly seedy, ex-industrial town that had seen better days?   Also, I had heard tell of an extremely smelly cellophane factory. What I received was beyond all expectation. Firstly my hostess at the B&B offered to do all my washing. Then in my bedroom, along with a magnificent gift of West-country chocolate and cider was a dinner invitation from Karen and Stuart.  I had shared a B&B way back in Cornwall with them and they live on the outskirts of town.

I have just returned from a delicious dinner with them and their delightful family, Charlotte and Nick, who must really have wondered what their parents were on about asking this old hobo git to dinner. If they did, they didn’t show it. They were excellent company and I wish Charlotte well with her uni applications and Nick well with his swimming competitions.  Their parents were extremely interesting and gracious hosts.

So, a delightful dinner in great company, my netbook fixed, my clothes clean and a comfortable B&B. I will remember Bridgwater with affection!

And, the cellophane factory has closed!

View from the Quantocks

Another view from the Quantocks

And a third view from the Quantocks

Sorry, but I couldn't resist another dramatic Bluebell field

An exhausted black hover-fly. Anyone know what it is?

His Master's Voice!

Yet another danger for the unsuspecting walker. I threw it back from the road onto the fairway. The golfer must have thought he had had the luckiest bounce ever!!

Study in green, white and yellow (!)

Fly-tipping - £100. Not scooping your dog's poop - £1,000. Disproportionate?

Does this mean that the the Lollipop Lady is a dragon?