So, now, I've got athletes foot to deal with along with the other aches and pains.
Nobody said it was going to be easy.
Said goodbye to Gerry as he was taking the scenic ferry up the river to Totnes.
Rose replaced Gerry as we took the ferry across to Kingswear.
Just after getting off the ferry we saw this old stone sign.
M.F.P ?
Making up various silly possibilities for the acronym MFP, kept us going for a few miles.
It seemed like no-one had told the residents of Dartmouth and Kingswear about the recession.
There seemed to be a building frenzy in full swing.
Cranes were lifting and swinging, concrete was being poured and delivery lorries coming and going.
Some were new, modernist blocks and others were refurbishments.
It wasn't that the houses were run down or in need of renovation but money was available from new owners to spend in an already affluent area.
Just out of town the path went steeply up and down and then into the wooded slopes of the estuary with views back to town.
Dart Estuary
Walked through a pine forest that was a bit of a novelty; lovely and soft underfoot, and then down to the old Brownstone Battery buildings at Froward Point that are still in remarkable condition even though they were probably built in a hurry during the second world war.
Around by Coleton Fishacre gardens it was getting very hot.
Tried to find a bench in the shade to have a stop but they were all positioned at exposed view points, so we sat on the path behind some bushes for some water and strawberries.
Of course, just twenty paces further on around the corner was the perfect bench in the shade.
It was tough walking in the hot sun and constantly uphill and downhill.
Got down to the beach at Scabbacombe Sands to have our sandwiches in the shade behind the broken cliffs, looking up at the steep climbs ahead of us.
It was 400 feet up after lunch then straight down again to Man Sands followed by 400 feet up again.
We had a good view of a yacht race from the top of the cliff
I got chatting with a twitcher at Sharkham Point who pointed out a peregrine falcon's nest on the cliff and we were treated to a spectacular high speed dive by one of the parents and then returning to the nest with food for the family.
I had established a knack of knowing if I was getting near to a town without having my nose in a map.
Firstly I would meet dog walkers.
Next it would be couples out for a romantic stroll, holding hands and taking up most of the path.
Then families with very excited, active kids or bored, sullen kids who'd been dragged away from gawping at screens.
Finally it would be the inappropriate footwear.
We passed all of these, in order, as we approached Brixham but although we were on the edge of town we had a long meandering walk around St Mary's Bay and out to Berry Head.
For a lot of the path we were cocooned in a narrow track between high hedges that had grown over to meet in the middle, but not high enough to get through without stooping.
Felt like I was going to finish the day looking like Quasimodo.
It was busy down by the Harbour
where we had a refreshing drink next to a replica of the Golden Hind.
Brixham Harbour
Brixham is quite a colourful and very hilly town, so hilly that I noticed there's a high street and a higher street.
Walked around for a couple of hours, trying to find accommodation as storms were forecast, but didn't see any of the 'Brixham Banksy' street art.
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