South West Coast Path Day 1: Minehead to Porlock

Just put one foot in front of the other…

I’ve wanted to walk the South West Coast Path home, from Minehead to where I was born in Poole, for many years. Daydreams about giving up work and setting off, convincing my employer to give me the unpaid leave, or waiting until retirement (if I’m lucky enough to have one) simmer in the back of my mind. For husband Ian to join me it feels even more unlikely, and would require two jobs being jacked-in at the same time. And so the years chug by and we never quite get off the starting block.

The idea of doing a Cheryl Strayed and walking off into the (tame south western England) wilderness is still the most appealing one, but the reality is that if I wait for the perfect opportunity to come along, I might miss out altogether.

So, in June 2026, I have finally made a start. I’ve walked stretches of the South West Coast Path before in no logical order, but this time I’m doing it in from ‘start’ to ‘finish’. I’ve decided that embarking on my quest in small chunks is better than not doing it at all, and this way I can still afford to eat and keep the guinea pigs to the high standards of fine dining they demand of us.

I intend to record each section of the path here on my blog and I welcome anyone who wishes to join me by reading and commenting on my trip. It won’t be a misery memoir (hopefully) or a daredevil tale of insane exploits and dangerous stunts (probably), just a record of my stop-start trundle around the coastline of Somerset, Devon, Cornwall and Dorset back to my beginnings in Poole. Other accounts of the South West Coast Path are available, some possibly more fiction than non, should you want to delve deeper into one of our best loved long-distance routes we’re lucky to have here in the UK.

Sarah Ward and Owen Cunningham’s South West Coast Path Sculpture in Minehead

First Steps

We climbed out of the minibus from Porlock behind several other backpack-clad walkers.

“Do you know where the walk starts?” asked one.

“No, not really, somewhere west of here, I guess.”

Knowing only that the route officially begins somewhere on the Minehead seafront, that was the best we had to offer, and before we could get excited about the start of this long awaited adventure, we were promptly distracted by the sight of a steam train and wandered off in the opposite direction.

Even with 630 miles to make a start on, a steam railway will always succeed in getting our attention. The bus had dropped us off at Minehead Station, where the West Somerset Railway operates steam trains on the restored line. The railway first reached Minehead in 1874, with Minehead increasing in popularity among holiday makers as beach holidays in the UK boomed. Our railways took a hit after the Beeching Report, “Reshaping British Railways”, and the line to Minehead closed in 1971. By the time the line closed, plans were already afoot to try and reopen it and, five years later, trains were running to and from Minehead once again.

Minehead Station

Minehead itself was a curious place. There were a surprising number of stag and hen parties parading up and down the high street in matching shirts at ten in the morning. They all looked tired and thoroughly depressed. Perhaps they too had hoped to find their lunch supplies in Co-op, only to be greeted with the same post-apocalyptic scenes we found.

A kind gentleman let me know that I’d dropped a piece of paper on the way in. He was worried I’d dropped my shopping list. This seemed like it should have been the least of his concerns when we entered the shop to find the entire thing empty bar a couple of shelves at the front of the store. Here, the staff had crammed all remaining food. These few, hallowed, shelves drew all of the customers to them, so you had to fight through the crowd in the hopes of picking up a cheese sandwich. Unbeknownst to us, the store was closing down and we had wandered in to buy our lunch on its final day of service.

It felt like we’d walked into a dystopian novel

RIP Co-op Minehead

If I had a little more time there were plenty of interesting independent shops to explore, but I had procrastinated enough posing with tin wombles, and the walk was begging for us to begin.

Cheerful hand-painted tin men made from old gas cannisters stood outside most shops, including a fine Uncle Bulgaria outside Wombledon.

By this time our fellow bus passengers had a good head start, and we returned to the seafront to find the statue at the official beginning of the South West Coast Path.

More distractions appeared in the form of gorgeous wildflowers bordering the beach, watching a Bernese Mountain Dog lolloping in the shallows, and pondering on what it would be like to stay at Butlins Minehead. Judging by the number of stag parties bumbling around, I suspect it might be a nightmare.

Coastal flowers in bloom on Minehead seafront

Eventually, we stopped messing about and got going, pausing one last time to admire the statue.

Two naive walkers, thinking that from here on in there would be no stopping until we reached Porlock, tired but triumphant.

About five minutes into the walk, the RNLI hut caught our eye and we found ourself stopping again to admire the kit in the Minehead Lifeboat Station. The Royal National Lifeboat Institution do incredible work and rescue, on average, 35 people per day from British seas. They are absolute heroes, putting other people’s safety before their own when they go out to aid people safely to shore in all weathers and sea conditions. They have my utmost respect.

“With courage, nothing is impossible” - the motto of Sir William Hillary, founder of the RNLI

It wasn’t long ago that I didn’t think this walk would be possible, even in stages. A combination of pain problems and B12 and iron deficiencies meant I was struggling with any physical activity including short, local walks. Like going upstairs to brush my teeth short. Making my health a priority and building up my fitness levels as I addressed the things making me unwell hasn’t been a quick fix. I’m in it for the long haul, especially sorting out the various muscle quirks that like to cause trouble, and deciding to put one foot in front of the other and do this journey, no matter how long it takes to complete all of the sections, is a really big deal.

One of the lovely things about the climb out of Minehead is the views of South Wales when you reach the top. We had fun picking out Flat Holm and Steep Holm islands, as well as the Ogmore Lighthouse and the chimneys of Port Talbot. We sat and admired the view over lunch as sheep admired our sandwiches from the other side of the fence.

Let the foxgloves lead the way

We walked through warm sunshine admiring the incredible displays of foxgloves in full bloom. Overhead a peregrine and a buzzard had a bit of an altercation as the stonechats peered out over the sea from the top of their gorse bushes. Wild ponies added an extra flourish to what already felt a very Exmoor-y walk.

An incredibly polite Duke of Edinburgh group thanked us as they hurtled past on the steep and rocky path around Hurlstone Point, although we lost them again a few minutes later as the urge for snacks got the better of them and they stopped to refuel.

Rocky terrain around Hurlstone Point

Rounding the headland, the disused coastguard station still looks out to sea even without its doors and windows. Built in 1900, it was permanently manned until after the Second World War, and still in use until it was decommissioned in 1983.

We may have almost been on the home straight, but it seemed prudent to check out Bossington Village before we headed on for Porlock. Most of the village is owned by the National Trust, and it’s worth a stroll around for the thatched cottages and lovely gardens. The highlight for walkers though is the refreshment stop at Kitnors Tea Garden. Cream teas in the garden, overlooked by a statue of The March Hare? Yes please.

Scones! Hopefully as we’re still in Somerset there’ll be no arguing about jam or cream going on first…

All of the procrastinating before we set off meant that things were shutting up by the time we reached Porlock, which is a shame as Squires Pet Shop looked incredible. Not only does it stock the expected wares of pet supplies, but it also boasts vinyl records, Sooty and Soo puppets, games, antiques, books and ice creams. Definitely one to come back to.

Will have to take the guinea pigs here sometime

Day 1 came to a close at Sparkhayes Campsite. A nice peaceful place to spend the night under canvas before the next leg in the morning. Nice and peaceful, except for the sixty school children camping there on their Duke of Edinburgh Expeditions. Oh well, at least they were polite!