With the continued unpredictability of this “summer” we packed the van and deferred a decision on actual destination until the morning of departure. Spinning the “wheel of fortune” we almost ended up on Llyn (inspired by the new guidebook), then hesitated over Llangollen, before the pointer finally came to rest. We’re heading South West.

First stop was Goblin Combe, not far south of Bristol in a Lord of the Rings setting, with route names to match. Bard the Bowman HS and Gondolin VS satisfied the YECTOYD criterion – a bit polished and not destination climbing, but a handy stop off, easy access and the trip was up and running. No pics I’m afraid.

Next stop on the north Devon coast, Valley of Rocks is a curious spot, not far from Lynmouth. Unusual rock formations – towers and pinnacles – scattered either side of a verdant, touristy valley…

… with the whole thing perched high above savage seacliffs.

Most of the climbing is pretty benign, on friendly scale crags of slatey rock. We did Hand Crack, S and Sidewinder, VS…

… and Seagulls on Steroids, VS, all on Castle Rock.

Great coastal path and some very strong local climbers in evidence.

Further west, we called in at Baggy Point.

Not the most settled weather or helpful tide (a recurring theme for much of the subsequent three weeks) so we kept things mellow on The Promentory

Ben, S 4a, has to be one of the best “easy” routes in the country – striking line, almost a full rope length, stunning position, immaculate gear and just enough of a sting in its crux that you don’t take it for granted.

Outstanding! Marion and Freddie, both HS, not quite as good but still very worthwhile.

Views further up the coast to the rest of the Baggy crags including the brilliant Heart of the Sun, conjuring some mildly harrowing memories.

Moving onto the Culm Coast (and udging into Cornwall), Vicarage Cliff is at the friendlier end of the spectrum, particularly after you’ve managed the steep descent aided by a chunky ancient rope.

We bumped into a couple from Sheffield, with Joe’s bright photogenic yellow top easily picked out amidst the dullness of another grey day.

Here’s Helen, ever photogenic herself, on The Anchor, VDiff,

and we managed Pandora, VS, Tombstone, HS and Spotted Dick, S, just managing to boulder hop above the rising tide as we sped left to right across the cliff – only pausing for a late butty break once the sea had engulfed all the routes.

Top tip – the Bush Inn at Morwenstow allows overnight van parking and you can walk to the crag from the car park. How good is that?

More weather coming in from the west prompted a switch to the south coast, with hopes of sunny intervals over Dartmoor. These turned out to be fleeting, and accompanied by heavy showers and a 30mph westerly…

Hay Tor will have to wait for another day

Pressing on further south to the English Riviera (or home of Fawlty Towers) the weather finally lived up to the billing. Daddy Hole on the northern tip of Torbay provides a sheltered and scenic spot, even if the routes owe their origins to ancient quarrying. It took us a while to convince ourselves to plunge through the clifftop shrubbery, but this IS the path, about 20m to the right of the foot of the steps, unlikely as that may seem!

A steep, earthy ridge and a bit of a scramble get you to the foot of the quarry.

We did White Queen HS and Midas Touch, HVS, both deserving of a fluttery heart symbol.

Gorgeous views across Torbay to Berry Head on the other “jaw” of the bay.

We were saved from checking out the pegs on Crinoid, E2, by a squally shower, and had to endure the far more harrowing experience of commentary on one of England’s dire group games instead.

Berry Head proved to be the optimum spot for the following day, localised heavy showers drenching Torquay but spending themselves in the process. The Old Redoubt is bird banned, but its neighbouring little brother Red Walls isn’t affected. One you pass the tourist honey pot of the cafe in the old fort, the descent path is none too obvious. The indicated route in the guide, directly down from a small square building, doesn’t seem to exist. Instead, head down from this marker to a wooden bench then directly east for around 50m until a faint path zigs off a bit rightwards towards the sea before zagging back to skirt under a low wall of grey limestone and finally down to a rocky ramp line which brings you back to large ledges just above sea level, which lead easily to the crag.

Here’s the view from the foot of the ramp

… and the foot of the crag

A decent selection of about a dozen routes in a benign and beautiful seaside setting. We did Ruddigor, and Red Crack, both HS and Jellyfish, VS though the top-outs deserve respect (I’d add an extra notch (or even two!) to the grades just for the last 10ft.

The best bit of rock on the wall is an area of flowstone in the middle, home to a tightly packed clutch of HVS – E2s, the classic being Blood, E1 5b. This was weirdly sprouting half a dozen bits of gear up to about half height (probably knocking a grade off my lead!) We faced the dilemma of whether to leave this for a possibly returning party or retrieve it to hopefully return.

We decided to strip the gear and were relieved to discover, once we were back in signal at the top of the crag, a message on UKC lost and found from a week beforehand:

Phew – correct decision! I also emailed ofxx and sure enough got a reply shortly after – thanks, that’s brilliant – ironically we’ve actually just arrived at the car park to finally retrieve it ourselves! A swiftly arranged rendezvous at the campsite enabled the return of four cams, a couple of wires and a bunch of draws to their grateful owner, Ollie, and also revealed the story behind the mystery. His friend had taken a ground fall from above the gear, ripping another piece in the process (must have been quite a tumble!) He’d been hospitalised with a broken back, but had since been released and was expected to make a full recovery. A timely reminder to all of us – take care out there folks!