Great Torrington to Bideford - Day Eight - Bristol to Cornwall round trip

We only had a short journey planned today as we were going to visit my relatives in Appledore. We headed up the Tarka Trail,retracing the route we had taken in the dark the previous evening. This is a lovely section of the Tarka path and it it was easy to chew up the miles. Mick had lost his bell on the long run into Bude, he now improvised by shouting "ding-ding" when approaching pedestrians. One passer-by was particularly impressed. Laughing, she said, "lovely bell, where can I get one?"

At Bideford we took a minute to admire the magnificent town bridge known as the Long Bridge. The bridge has twenty four arches which are all different sizes. Originally oak, work begain in 1474 on the stone bridge which is a Grade One listed monument. The stone bridge followed the lines of the oak one, with the different size arches reflecting the different lengths of timber used for the lintels.

We cycled on along the front and up over the hill to Appledore. We were on my home territory now. My grandmother hailed from Bideford and for generations before that my relatives lived in and around Great Torrington. My aunt and uncle had recently moved back to Appledore and I could understand why, it is a beautiful place. It was the first time I had been here and I felt at home straightaway. I liked it very much indeed. Narrow streets of brightly coloured houses straggled along, linked by old alleyways and courtyards.

We stopped for a Hockings Ice Cream from the ice cream van parked on the front. Hockings is a proper local Devonshire ice cream, and is only available in their vans in North Devon. Made from a closely guarded recipe, the company was started by Dave Hockings in 1936 in a converted 1928 Morris Cowley van. Othre family members have since joined the business and thus far they have sensibly resisted the temptation to mass market their product. It was delicious: creamy and smooth and all a good ice-cream should be.

"This used to be the rough end of town", said my aunt as we wandered along a picturesque street of tiny cottages. "Your grandmother wouldn't let me come and play down here."
As my grandmother's family was not exactly well off, it must indeed have been pretty rough. Difficult to imagine now.

By the time we had settled in for some home made cake and tea at my aunties, time was getting on. We waved goodbye and headed back over the headland to Bideford, where we decided we may as well find a bed for the night. We asked in a local pub whether there was any accommodation nearby and were directed to a bed and breakfast establishment at the back of the town. The proprietor said we could bring our bikes through to the back but insisted on carrying them himself.
"Too many idiots rip the wallpaper or get oil on the carpet," he said.
"We looked at each other but said nothing as he lugged the bikes though one by one.

The place had the feel of a commercial travellers hotel, and there were stern signs instructing the guests on the many activities they were not to indulge in: no takeaway food in rooms, no alcohol in rooms, no noise, no having sex, no enjoying yourself in any way whatsoever. Ok, I made those two up but they may as well have been on the list. The spare bed had a large sign on it saying that if the bed was used then a charge for an extra person would be made. It all added up to an unfriendly feel about the place. Unfortunately, after going out  for a few beers we completely forgot about the instructions, bringing back a bottle of wine and an Indian takeway which Mick managed to spill over the white towel he was using as a napkin.

"I'll sort it in the morning," I thought foggily, as I went to sleep.

Miles cycled today:22
Total Miles: 310

Our route is here