A rebel without a clue.

Five hours before a break then two steak and ale pies from two establishments. I'm stuffed and ready for the last leg of Friday. I'm booked in the Notley Arms, Monksilver on a Friday... It's a pub and it's a Friday... I can see light at the end of the tunnel regards this insanity. Why did I bring the full camping ensemble when I haven't slept sunny side up since Cheddar. I've always good intentions, but they often fall into dust. Fantastic. One hundred degrees warmer than the desolation of The Old Cider House. In the Notley Arms I don't have to disappear into the Ancient Mariner or the George before coming back to sleep. It's Friday and the coast isn't too far distant so I chose Fish and Chips. Two Old Rosie Cider to wash it down. Now I'm au naturel supine on the single long bed in room number 7. The patrons didn't mind me eating the food on my lap or walking about barefoot. They said treat it like your home which is why I'm relaxing as n...

Obviously I misunderstood what the host of the B&B meant. He made me a pack lunch to take with me, but it's possibly a fraction of what I expected. If what he left me to consume before a long day ahead... I'll fail to walk many many miles happily - the old saying that an army marches on its stomach is accurate. Some breeze during the night woke me as it shock the sash windows and the toilet door. It took a while to locate where the constant rattling noise was coming from. Then I struggled with the duvet which was too heavy and put too much pressure on my feet. The bed which I took to be a king sized afair is actually two singles so I could only sleep on one side for fear of being woken. In bed I find any impediment at the edges a cause for concern and I always awake whenever my foot touches a footboard or finds the edge or feels suffocated in the bed. The better of the two pubs appears to be the George with its plentiful doggies. The Ancient Mariner was where I ate. They ha...

In Pedwell a retired couple helped me to recover from the attack of hayfever. She made me a strong tea with plenty of sugar. He slipped me a twenty pound note and told me to enjoy a Ploughman's lunch. Finding nowhere open I made my own picnic. The cash went into cider! Had a half an hour break and brunch in Spaxton. The ladies in the Post Office Village Shop were very helpful and even made me a cafeterie coffee. I've just eaten the strawberries from Warren's Fruit Farm, but I am almost out of energy today. It's so humid. A few tempting spots of rain taking the piss! Set off again at just gone eleven down ancient footways to the Pomewater Lane Greenway and I'm hoping to stumble to the Foxy Bean Cafe shortly. Exhausted. That was a very tiring 11 miles. Tomorrow must be different as I really need to be nearer to Lynton than I am today. Nether Stowey is a pretty village at the base of the Quantocks. Tomorrow I go back up the hill on Castle Street to join the Coleridge W...

Just walked the long 20 minutes into Glastonbury. Bought a few supplies from Earthfare. Perhaps I eat them tonight with the red beans I bought in a Colombian cantina/cafe in Colham? The weight would be better inside me. The girl, Shanti, who showed me into the Airbnb accommodation said I could use all the kitchen facilities. Makes plenty of sense. But it might make the beans and garlic for breakfast to go with the chapattis I've been carrying since Birmingham. Tomorrow I can certainly start the day vegetarian if it's up to me: I think she also said to help myself to coffee. Tomorrow is Bridgwater and back into the tent. I called ahead to the coast to an independent hostel but it's no use me going as it's for 'bubbles' etc and the price is exorbitant; much the same as the YHA. My primary issue with walking in England is the cost of accommodation and the niggling dislike I have of camping. When sunrise is before 5 and sunset around 9 the birds chatter a lot before...

Yesterday I struggled so much with hayfever and then trying to find some solace in bloody Bridgwater. In the Weatherspoons and the Fountain Inn a local refused to stop trying to talk to me. In Weatherspoons I made an excuse and headed indoors, but at the Fountain Inn a crazy woman from Halifax, who claimed me as 'kin' just couldn't understand that I am socially anxious. She claimed she was too, but just wouldn't leave me alone... and as I was sat at the furthest away place outside my only option was to run away screaming which I did indeed! But I did find a fantastic Portuguese Delta café in Eastover area where I finally got over the weary day on Super Bock Preto and bolo. The Admiral Blake Guest House was quiet, but the room I was in only had a sky light window so felt stuffy most of the night. I slept au naturel until my usual time - 5ish - when too many still Somerset scrumpy ciders came out the other orifice. By 6:30 I was desperate to find breakfast. The town centr...

Day three dawns after a perfect evening's sleep. Awake and eating Frijoles Rojos Colombianos by 5:30am. My backpack is thoroughly packed and I'm just enjoying a agave sweetened LOR Classique instant coffee. It'll be ablutions, boots on and away. I found a slight short cut back to Magdalene Street so don't have to follow too much road out of Glastonbury? Yesterday wasn't a lot of walking (10 miles), but it was primarily tarmac. The can of frijoles antioqueños is enough for two plates of refried beans so they're safely stowed in Tupperware. Left Glastonbury via Wirral Hill/Ridge and the later part of The Romam Way as it slumbered and passed through Street as labourers stepped into the healthy morning option 'Greggs' - two mornings ago that was me labouring over two full breakfast baps! Just connect the field ways parallel to the suggested lane coming out of Street, to the South of Walton. Streaming west! It's eight and time for a slash! What hayfever! ...

Didn't sleep well with the church bell cacophony every 15 minutes all through the night. Now I wait by the ancient monument in Westbury sub Mendips for the bus into Wells to find a large breakfast. From there I'll find another way to Glastonbury and, perhaps, Street? While waiting for the bus from Weston-super-Mare I'm finally conquered by hay fever. I felt it a little during the night but walking through those 3 miles of fields between Cheddar and Westbury has done me in... ... Full English up by the Bishop's Eye from TWENTYONE. I'm passing through Wells. That's twice in my lifetime. Suddenly I'm retracing my footsteps back the way I came in 2010 at the end of my summer in Padstow: not literally as I didn't walk that time. Leaving Wells behind after a great breakfast via the Bishop's Palace and Moated complex - there isn't a single thing Godly amongst all these heavy stones and fetid waters. How did a simple message get so distorted into a palat...