Author Archives: Ruth Livingstone

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About Ruth Livingstone

Walker, writer, photographer, blogger, doctor, woman, etc.

97. Aveton Gifford to River Erme

My way is blocked by flooded roads. I walk across a squelchy meadow on a mattress of grass, floating on water. If I stop still for too long, I will sink. Forced to detour, I end up walking in the dark. Continue reading

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96. Hope Cove to Aveton Gifford

The footpath crosses over a farm track where the mud is incredibly deep and soft and mixed with manure and churned up with animal hoof prints. It is almost impassable. Will I be forced to give up? Continue reading

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95. Salcombe to Bolt Tail

It was raining that day – a relentless downpour from low hanging grey clouds. Maybe, I said, it’s not a good idea to walk along Slippery Point in the rain? Continue reading

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94. Start Point to Salcombe

The path runs high above the sea, up and down along rocky ledges, and across steep grassy slopes. I am on my own, nobody around, mobile phone not working – what if I twist an ankle or take a tumble? Continue reading

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93. Strete, Slapton Sands to Start Point

I had no idea this area of the coast was so beautiful. In fact, I had never heard of Slapton Sands or Beesands before. A couple come puffing up the path ahead of me. “It’s Devon’s best kept secret -don’t tell anyone.” Sorry. Just had to let it slip out on my blog… Continue reading

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92. Dartmouth to Blackpool Sands

There are some hunched shapes moving about on the rocky islands. At first, I think some brave fishermen are perched precariously on these spiny outcrops, but I soon realise the shapes are not human, but cormorants. Continue reading

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91. Brixham to Kingswear to Dartmouth

I meet nobody else for the next hour and a half. Compared to the crowded paths around Weymouth and the busy Lulworth Cove, where there were hundreds of people, this is bliss – and it is exactly what I imagined coast walking to be like. Continue reading

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90. Paignton to Brixham

The seagull waits and watches carefully until the fish is removed from the hook. Then, in one quick swoop, it flies down to seize the fish from the man’s hands. ‘Oy,’ comes the shout, ‘the bird took my fish!’

Continue reading

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89. Torquay to Paignton

Expecting concrete promenades in Torquay, I left my walking poles behind. But I find myself in a beautiful and natural landscape. I walk through old woodlands and pass spectacular red-sand beaches. Then it starts raining… Continue reading

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88. Dawlish through Teignmouth to Torquay

I find myself scrambling up a steep, muddy path. Arriving at the top, gasping for breath, I discover I have travelled  less than a 100 yards from where I started my descent. And it took me over 10 minutes.
Is this some sort of cruel joke?
Continue reading

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