I am walking along Culver Cliff, through woodland, towards Minehead. Nearly there. And that means I am nearly at the end of the South West Coast Path.

As I follow the path, sloping downwards towards the outskirts of the town, I am overcome with a very strong feeling. An orange line crosses my map at about this point. That means I am crossing over a boundary, moving out of Devon and into Somerset. Out of the domain of pixies and pirates and into the world of scrumpy and Glastonbury. I feel the division as though it is a physical barrier, an invisible wall that I am about to walk through. Continue reading















