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The End

Dover was miserable as I stepped off the train. A walk through town saw me narrowly avoiding being accosted by some rather dubious-looking characters. Not responding to their calls was probably the smart thing to do.

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A Nemesis and the Noble and Ancient Art of Tor-sitting

Looking down from Lynch Tor, I see the valley spread below, lush, green and beckoning us onward. Legs tired, water running low, and still a fair way to walk. The map shows a well-defined path leading down a valley between two ridges, and seeing the same on the ground we take it. Some way down the path,…

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A Spot of Bushwhacking

There’s really not much to tell about this walk. It simply involved lots of trees. Ducking, diving and twisting around them trying to find odd bits of rock secreted in the depths of the forest. Some of them may even have been a touch naughty to visit. The Tavy was crossed a few times before…

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A Camp above Belstone

I sit in the car awaiting developments: Jim is on the last stretch from Exeter, Paul is due a little later. The rest of my flask of tea is sipped while the car doors are pressed into service as a makeshift clothes horse – a mishap with my Camelbak having dumped 3 litres of water…