Ruth Livingstone
My book: Walking the English Coast
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Winfield’s Award
Killer Cows: Killer Cows
A Mother’s Story: son attacked by a cow
A cow charged straight at my ten-year-old son.
Jay’s Story: a geocaching adventure spoiled
“Caution. Bull called Henry.”
Susan’s Story: knocked out by Limousin cows.
I was knocked to the ground, and knocked out.
Tag Archives: walk
206 Newport to Moylgrove
‘This is a remote, rugged and challenging stretch of the Pembrokeshire Coast Path.’
It’s 13 miles from here to Poppit Sands, with only a few escape routes available if you want to leave the path.
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200 Newgale to St Davids
While the rest of the UK is swept by storms, I bask in the Pembrokeshire sunshine, where I catch a butterfly, but miss an adder. Continue reading
191 Manorbier to Stackpole Quay
Today is one of those glorious summer days you dream about, with hardly a cloud in the sky. I enjoy Swanlake and Barafundle Bay, before getting into a panic about missing the bus. Continue reading
149 Porlock Weir to Hurlstone Point
I walk across shingle, plod through a marsh, do some wading, and climb up to Hurlstone Point. 2 hours to travel 2 miles? Continue reading
127a Newquay to Mawgan Porth
I walk above small coves and rocks with wonderful names; Criggers, Lusty Glaze, Wine Cove. I can see all the way up to Dinas Head and The Bull rock, with Trevose Head beyond. The distant rocks of Quies stick out of the sea, looking like great ships. Continue reading
122 – St Ives to Hayle
Lelant station is lovely. Tubs of flowers, a nice wooden seat, and the place is kept spick and span. Best of all, there is an amazingly beautiful view across the estuary. Sitting here, you wouldn’t care if your train was late. Continue reading
83. Charmouth to Lyme Regis
I have been unwell and am irritated when the walk follows a busy road. Coastal walking? Miles from the sea? Bah humbug. Not a good start.
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64. Gosport to Warsash
I get wet and am irritated by ‘private beach’ signs. But I enjoy a stretch of vegetated shingle, where unusual plants struggle to maintain a foothold in the inhospitable surface of dry, shifting, shingle stones. I marvel at the extreme fragility and the incredible tenacity of life.
Stage 34. Hoo St Warburgh to Rochester
My path winds around the edge of an industrial area. There is the usual assortment of unfriendly notices, telling me to “Keep Out”, “Beware, Guard Dogs”, “CCTV in operation” and, while I’m at it, “No parking”. Bizarrely, I spot a submarine in the river. It is badly rusted and listing to one side. I am suprised to see a hammer and sickle on the turret. Continue reading
30. Fobbing to Tilbury
“Or, if you walk into the village, you may be able to catch a bus.”
“I am not allowed to travel by bus,” I tell him.
If he thinks this is a little odd, he is too polite to say so.
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