Matt Warren
Day 51 – Exmouth to Sidmouth (14.3 miles)
The calm before the climb…
After another restless, hot night of tossing and turning, we kicked off the day with a final breakfast with the folks. Bless them—they met us at 7:50am so we could squeeze in one last visit to our favourite spot in Exmouth, Sundowners. As always, it didn’t disappoint—great food, great coffee, and great company to send us on our way.
After a gentle stroll back through town, they walked us to the path and we said our sad goodbyes. It’s been so lovely having them join us. One more time: thank you SO much for everything ❤️
The trail out of Exmouth was gentle for a change, staying steady for quite a while—what a treat! The heat had dropped a bit too, and a sea breeze helped keep us cooler than the previous few days. My trainers, despite yesterday’s drama, were holding up well, and spirits were decent as we reached the starting point of the Jurassic Coast at the Geoneedle..
We took a quick break for a drink and a sock swap in Budleigh Salterton, then crossed the River Otter. A little further along, we found a great lunch spot at Brandy Head and got chatting to a local bloke (his dog, bless, was more into lying in the shade and eyeing up our food than conversation). He gave us some great local knowledge—including which parts of the South West Coast Path had unnecessary diversions we could skip. Super helpful!
Later, we stumbled across a gem of a little shop offering vegan ice cream—salted caramel and mint choc-chip for us. Absolutely hit the spot. Oh, and we finally solved a mystery: we’ve been seeing SUP written everywhere and wondering what it meant. Turns out it’s Stand Up Paddleboard. Mystery solved.
Eventually, the two looming hills we’d been trying to forget about came into view, and we knew we couldn’t delay them any longer. Thankfully, they weren’t as bad as we feared. The approach into Sidmouth was lovely—busy beaches, but not too hectic—and the views across the cliffs and red rock formations were properly stunning. We could also see what tomorrow has in store: a lot of hills. But that’s a problem for future us.
We checked into The Dukes, and it’s an absolute gem—great location, really comfy, and a cracking vegan menu we just couldn’t say no to (so much for a Huel night…). A shower, a bit of admin, some top-notch food, and a bit of Corrie before tomorrow’s “severe” challenge. Yikes…
Let’s hope the breeze sticks around.
Day 52 – Sidmouth to Seaton (12.1 miles)
We got out a little earlier today and treated ourselves to a lovely breakfast at The Courtyard—highly recommend. Bellies full and bottles topped up, we hit the trail under clear skies and glorious sun. The views ahead made things very clear: today was all about the climbs. They loomed in front of us like a rollercoaster—but, we’ve tackled worse.
We launched straight into the first big ascent, and despite the burn, it was breathtaking. The views were sharp and sheer, with cliff edges offering up vistas of the turquoise sea below. The rocks shifted colours dramatically—deep Devonian red sandstone giving way to striking white chalk as we moved along the coast. Every step was tough but rewarding, and the visual payoff kept us going.
As we got deeper into the rollercoaster terrain, that familiar sluggishness set in—the kind that creeps up without warning and clings on. Still, we dug in and pushed through to the 6-mile mark, eventually reaching Branscombe Beach, where we paused for a break and a quick sock change.
Branscombe isn’t just another beach on the path—it’s got some serious history. Back in 2007, the MS Napoli, a container ship, ran aground off the coast nearby after suffering structural damage in a storm. Several containers were washed ashore, and the beach became a magnet for looters—some driving from hundreds of miles away. People came to scavenge everything from motorbikes to nappies and perfume. It turned into a full-blown media circus and a bit of a legal grey area for weeks. Eventually, order was restored, but the whole affair left a mark on local memory—and a few odd bits of cargo were still being found years later.
Back on the trail, we pressed into the Undercliffs National Nature Reserve—a wild, otherworldly stretch of coastal jungle between Branscombe and Seaton. The path twisted and turned through dense vegetation, unexpected clearings, and more breathtaking views. Behind us, we could just make out the rugged outlines of Hooken Cliffs, while ahead lay tiny, secluded spots like Littlecombe Shoot and Western Cliff. It was hard going, but unforgettable.
We eventually made it to Beer (yes, the place, not the drink!) and grabbed a much-needed Diet Coke at The Anchor Inn. Not our usual move, but the caffeine jolt was exactly what we needed to finish strong.
The final stretch took us along the pebble beach into Seaton, where the town opened up before us like a coastal exhale. We’re staying at the Eyre Court Hotel, which is perfect—relaxed, comfy, and ideal for tonight’s plans: a quiet one with Huel and a whole lot of nothing.
Tomorrow brings more miles, more climbs… and probably more snacks.
Day 53 – Seaton to West Bay (18.8 Miles)
Today was tough. One of those days where everything combines to test you. First up: the heat. It was seriously hot—one of those close, windless days where the promised breeze never showed up. No cloud cover, no respite. The sun just sat there, relentless, and every climb felt like it had doubled in size because of it. If it hadn’t been for the water refills and shady moments, I honestly think we’d have melted into the path.
Before we’d even set foot on the trail, I had a bad feeling. The path was marked as ‘moderate’, but after checking the topography, I knew there were some serious climbs coming. The terrain was flagged in the write-ups as tough going too, and even though it was supposed to be 15 miles to Seatown, something about it just felt… longer.
We had breakfast in Seaton and set off, starting out with a relatively flat section before the climbing kicked in. Soon enough, we were back into the Undercliffs National Nature Reserve. This stretch is known for being wild, overgrown, and unpredictable. The Undercliffs were formed by a series of massive landslips over the centuries and have created a kind of lost-world landscape—dense woodland, sudden clearings, and paths that feel like they’re barely clinging to the coast. The odd thing? Despite being so close to the sea, you barely see it. Over the next four hours, we saw the ocean just twice, and only through small breaks in the thick, tangled vegetation. It was like walking through a greenhouse. A very steep one.
Eventually, after hours in this humid forest tunnel, we crossed out of Devon (farewell and thank you!) and into Dorset, and boom—there was the sea again, full of sparkle and promise. Sadly, that wasn’t the only thing on the horizon… because rising up in the distance were three major climbs, including the monster that is Golden Cap.
Now, Golden Cap is no joke. Standing at 191 metres (627 feet) above sea level, it’s the highest point on the south coast of England. It gets its name from the yellowish-coloured sandstone that tops the hill, and when you’re standing at the base of it, it looks like a wall of pain. Beautiful, yes—but absolutely brutal on the legs.
We stopped just before the climbs for lunch and tucked into a banana blossom fish butty—absolutely spot-on. But it was during that break that I made an unfortunate discovery: we weren’t staying in Seatown as I’d thought… but four more miles down the coast in West Bay. And those miles weren’t flat—they included two more climbs, one starting immediately after Golden Cap. Honestly, my heart sank. I was already feeling the usual muscle fatigue from the morning, but knowing we had over 11 miles left and some of the hardest terrain ahead? That hit hard.
We pulled ourselves together, changed socks, and cracked on. The first post-lunch climb wasn’t too bad thanks to a diversion that distracted us. But the second? That was a different story—steep, long, and draining. The third? Utter punishment. Switchbacks, false summits, and slopes that just kept going. I was overheating, my mood dropped, and every step felt heavier than the last. Still, we reached the summit of Golden Cap, and despite the effort, the view was spectacular. Honestly, the stretch from Lyme Regis to here has offered up some of the best sea views of the whole path.
Coming down from Golden Cap into Seatown (our ‘what could’ve been’ stop) was another challenge—steep descents that gave my left knee a proper niggle, though it thankfully settled once we hit flat ground again. We grabbed a quick drink and ice cream to revive the spirits before facing the next beast. And yes, again—it was steep. Three near-vertical sections, energy-zapping heat, and absolutely no shade. Just brutal. We both felt it. But somehow, we got up and over, then onto the final stretch into West Bay, which, after what we’d already tackled, felt almost gentle.
We reached our accommodation with massive relief—and luckily, it was lovely. I genuinely don’t think either of us had a drop of energy left for surprises. Once we showered and cooled down, things started to feel OK again. Legs? Hanging in there. Knee? Fine. And the silver lining? Tomorrow’s forecast is grim, but we’ve already knocked nearly four miles off it, which will be a massive help.
Looking at today’s stats, we smashed our highest elevation day by nearly 400 feet. So, if it felt like a monster… that’s because it was.
Day 54 – West Bay to Abbotsbury (11.3 Miles)
Today was meant to be pretty uneventful. We knew it would be a later start and grabbing breakfast out. We also knew the weather was due to be grey with a good chance of rain, and that we’d already tackled the bulk of the hills for this section yesterday. So, on paper, it should have been plain sailing.
We headed to Rise in West Bay for breakfast (and bloody lovely it was too!) before trying to rejoin the path—only to find a diversion had been put in place… through a golf course… and poorly signed. Still, we managed to follow it and avoid the rain entirely.
A couple of miles in, yesterday’s fatigue hit like a tonne of bricks. So we made a pit stop at the next café for a brew and a quick recharge. No food though—still full from breakfast.
Back on the move, we eventually reached a small shale beach section. Sounds scenic, but it was really tiring and had us using muscles that hadn’t had much action yet. We trudged through about two or three miles of this before spotting a pub in the distance. Whether it was the break from the beach we needed, or genuine hunger kicking in, we decided to stop for a proper meal.
We sat down and listened to the couple at the next table order Champagne and the fish of the day… while we went for chip butties. Standard. I was mid-sentence, about to say to Trace, “That guy outside looks like Gareth…” when, before I could finish, I saw a woman who looked exactly like his wife, Vicky… our friends and ex-neighbours from home. Triple take. It was them!
We bolted outside in disbelief—it was such an amazing surprise! We were completely lost for words. Turns out they’d been planning to surprise us for ages! Gits! They’ll be joining us for the next couple of walks, which is such a boost—exactly what we needed to carry us through the rest of the day (after lunch, of course).
We met up with them again after finishing the walk for a cheeky drink at the pub near our B&B, then parted ways until tomorrow’s walk.
We checked into our accommodation—a very (and I mean very) quaint place called East Farm. When she mentioned breakfast was at 8:30, we also politely reminded the host that we’re vegan (as we always do, even though we’d already mentioned this at booking). She asked what we’d eat—beans, mushrooms, tomatoes, etc.—and then asked, “Egg?” We said, “No thank you.” Her accusatory response? “But, you do know if chickens don’t lay eggs, they die.”
We honestly didn’t know what to say to that. We get that not everyone is vegan or understands why we are, but we were a bit taken aback that a B&B host—who’d already been told in advance—would hit us with that kind of comment. There’s so much we could have said… but we just asked where the room was.
Anyway, we’re settled in now, showered and ready for some HUEL. All in all—what a brilliant day! Totally unexpected joy in the form of familiar faces, and the knowledge that tomorrow’s journey will be a shared one. Bring it on.
Day 55 – Abbotsbury to Weymouth (via Ferrybridge) (13.7 Miles)
After a pretty poor night’s sleep (itchy!), we packed up and headed down for breakfast—unsure what fresh surprises were in store… and there were plenty.
I took the cases down and popped them in the dining room where they’d been the day before—something I always do to save the hosts lugging them about and to ensure they’re ready for pick-up in good time. The dining room itself was… interesting. (See pics for a better idea!)
Eventually, the host walked in and greeted us with, “Oh, you’re here already. Well, I’m just going to water the plants, so you’ll have to wait.” Lovely. When she returned, she immediately barked, “You need to move those cases over there.” Friendly as ever.
She asked if we wanted coffee, and I said, “I don’t suppose you have any plant-based milk, do you?” She snarled, “Oh no, we don’t do that here.” So I politely declined. But then—strangely—she turned back and said, “We have oat milk if that’s any good?” Er… okay. She brought in a small jug and added, “I had to open a whole carton, and if you don’t finish it, it’ll go off because nobody else uses it.” Cheers!
Breakfast followed—a simple plate of beans, mushrooms, tomato, and toast. As she served it, she managed to slop beans all over Trace and then slammed the plates down like we’d personally offended her. Our final treat? Halfway through eating, she approached the table and said, “Well, you’re all paid up, so just leave the keys in the door.” What a warm and welcoming stay…
Anyway, we got the hell out of Dodge and met Gareth and Vicky around the corner in a car park to start the day’s walk.
The weather was a little overcast at first, with a few very light showers that were actually quite refreshing. As the miles passed, though, the sun broke through and brought some serious heat with it.
We spent the early part of the day walking inland, eventually reaching the opposite side of Chesil Beach—a dramatic, 18-mile-long shingle barrier beach that stretches from West Bay to Portland, separating the Fleet Lagoon from the sea. For us, though, it meant following a relatively flat, featureless path for nearly 10 miles, with the estuary to one side and no view of the sea for most of the day. Not exactly the most inspiring walk, but thankfully the company made it worthwhile.
We stopped for a brew at Moonfleet Manor, a grand Georgian manor overlooking the lagoon. The building has quite the history—it’s named after the classic smuggling novel Moonfleet by J. Meade Falkner, and it still retains much of its old-world charm.
Lunch was a low-key affair on a little bench next to a fishing hut. We eventually made it to Ferrybridge and then continued along the opposite side of the path towards Weymouth, so we’ll be able to start the Isle of Portland leg from the top after tomorrow’s well-earned rest day.
Once in Weymouth, we checked into our accommodation and met up with Tracey’s mum and dad, who had come to join us for a few days—such a lovely treat and it was great to see them again after what felt like an age! We were honestly overwhelmed by how many people have made the effort to come out and support us on this adventure. It means a lot.
After quick showers and a nip to Tesco Express, we added to the fajitas that Vicky had already kindly brought along, making enough for everyone. A few drinks were cracked open, and we chatted the evening away, making plans for the next couple of days.
It felt almost like being at home… but in the back of our minds, we know we still have a couple of tricky days ahead before we can say we’ve completed the path.
