In Eggesford, do as the country folk do - bird watching. The English have an astounding affection for their wildlife - particularly their birds. I do recall stumbling upon my flatmates, 21-something blokey blokes, admiring the little birdies in the garden on an early morning, cuppa tea in hungover hand.
So it was no surprise when, along a wander through the countryside with the more ambitious (and less hungover) of our group, Chris came to a halt at the distinct sound of what he then enthousiasticall pointed toward and identified with certainty as a Sky Lark. Apparantly their twitter is clearly distinguishable and they are known to hover in one place quite high in the sky which is indeed what this bird was doing. It took me a good squint and a few attempts at focusing at the correct point in the distance to finally spot the bird, hovering above.
This was just one of many staple, yet for me exotic, sights we saw along the way. Cows and horses dotted the rolling hills; the grass was long, and a brighter green than I've ever seen - ready for ruminating bovine to engorge. We saw sun and clouds, rain and a double rainbow. We stopped in a small town pub for a break and a round of bowls before forging ahead. I stepped on a bright blue beetle and learned to navigate a kissing gates, which, unfortunately, did not land me a kiss.
Most remarkable was how vague the public footpaths are. Our route was a wayward path from gate to gate, diagonals across fields and wanders through pine forest. Left to my own devices, I would have been lost in no time. What a peculiar version of 'the hike'.