Dartmoor: Belstone to Sticklepath

For some time I had been thinking my early morning walk through Herefordshire in January 2018 was the start of my new found love of walking. However it occurred to me the seeds may have been sown a little before that, given that, at that point, I already owned some walking boots. They weren't particularly good walking boots, and I didn't have them on that walk through Herefordshire, but nonetheless, there had obviously been some prior moment in time for which I had decided I need walking boots.

I'm not 100% sure but I think I probably bought them so I could go on an extended pub crawl on Dartmoor. The annual quaint pub outing with London friends just before Christmas had reminded me that to see really beautiful unspoilt pubs you've got to get out into the countryside. The further you get away from any large centre of population the better chance you have of finding these gems. And it doesn't get much more remote than Dartmoor.

So I had planned today's outing largely around wanting to see if some kind of rural pub crawl might be feasible. In the end I managed to visit a total of five pubs in three villages - and as a happy coincidence that meant a lovely countryside walk inbetween.

I also wanted to prove that a daytrip to Dartmoor from London was achievable. So I was up bright and early this morning - at Paddington before 8am, which got me to Exeter station some time around 11am. From Exeter I had found there was a bus bound for Okehampton which would stop just outside of Belstone. Better still it was a double decker, and from the top deck I had beautiful views out across the moors (for some reason I didn't take a photo though it seems). Quite a lovely way to arrive on Dartmoor really. The bus dropped me off at a junction by the signpost pictured above, apparently about 3/4 of a mile from there to Belstone.

As I turned into the little country lane which led into Belstone I passed the boundary sign for the Dartmoor National Park, which added to the gratifying sense of arrival.

I have a fondness for Belstone, and this was at least the third time I'd been here. It had been the end of the walk across Dartmoor I'd done with Dad when I was around 18 - about 20 years before this visit. We'd started at Two Bridges and wild camped somewhere in the middle of the moor. It was rather wet for the second day of our walk and I had very much appreciated a cream tea in a nice warm, cosy tea room in Belstone which we'd had on arrival. The second visit I can remember making to Belstone, about 10 years later, was to try and take Chie to that tea room, but alas by then it was no longer there.

Today however, my thoughts lay not with tea rooms, but with pubs, and happily barely 15 minutes into my walk Belstone provided the first of these. Although perhaps a slightly severe looking pub building, The Tors however has one of the most spectacular beer gardens I know of - looking straight out over open moorland.

This made for a lovely spot for lunch, and to finish my pint while poring over the OS Map (see picture at the top of this page). Which, to be honest, I probably didn't really need, as I would just be following the Tarka Trail from here to Sticklepath, but it seemed prudent to come prepared.

Eventually I tore myself away from that lovely spot outside The Tors to continue my walk to Sticklepath. It's only a couple of miles, and follows the river Taw through Belstone Cleave. It's a lovely wooded valley, very gentle going - and on this lovely spring day it was rather idyllic.

I passed a few other walkers, and the odd sheep, but for most of the time had the path all to myself.

Some lovely moss covered rocks.

The path crosses back and forth across the river a few times, so there were a number of these nice little footbridges.

Eventually I started to see signs of civilisation once again, as I was reaching Sticklepath. It wasn't a very long walk in the end - from Belstone to Sticklepath took just under an hour.

Once in Sticklepath, pub exploration resumed, and I had been pleased to note that despite being a small village (population around 450) it was able to support not one, but two pubs. The first of these, which I only made a very brief inspection of, was The Taw River Inn. This was pleasant enough, had the feel of a local's pub, and very cheap beer - £2.60 a pint! A perfectly satisfactory Devon country pub - nice thatched building, unfussy and nothing too fancy.

Just up the road though lay an absolute gem - The Devonshire Inn. From the outside it looked much the same as its near neighbour...

However inside it had this magical, timeless interior - I wish I had taken more photos. I instantly fell in love.

It can sometimes be a little difficult putting my finger on what exactly makes such a perfect pub. Absolutely the worst possible fate that can befall a pub is modernisation. The merest hint of a Farrow and Ball paint job and I immediately lose interest. However there are also places which have avoided that terrible destiny but didn't have a particularly appealing decor in the first place, have never had much care lavished on them, and now look rather run down and tatty. Somewhere in between though, or possibly existing on a different axis altogether, are pubs which have beautiful interiors that haven't changed for decades, or even centuries, and have clearly been cherished by landlords and customers alike. Unspoiled, but not unloved either. The Devonshire Inn exists on this magical plane of pub heaven.

I stood at the bar, and was served by a lady who could well be in her 80s. The beers are served directly from stillage behind the bar, and despite the glorious weather outside there was a roaring open fire. I immediately became ensconced in conversation with a couple of the regulars, and I'd have been very happy to just stay here the rest of the day, but eventually felt I ought to press on with the rest of the itinerary, so reluctantly headed back outside, in the direction of the next village, South Zeal.

Dad came to meet me in Sticklepath, and although I was just leaving the Devonshire Inn as he arrived, I decided I should just go back in again so he could see it too. Really magical place, lovely atmosphere.

I had originally planned to walk on from there to South Zeal, but as Dad had arrived by then, and had the car, we drove together to the third and final village of today's itinerary. Another fairly small village which impressively managed to support two pubs. The first of these - the Kings Arms - had a very nice exterior, another thatched building but on a slightly grander scale than the two in Sticklepath, and I rather liked the lettering of the sign. Inside perhaps not so much to write home about, particularly after having been spoiled with the splendour of the Devonshire Inn.

Finally, the Oxenham Arms. This was more of a hotel really, but it did actually have quite a nice bar room, which it seems I didn't get a photo of.

So there you have it. Was this in fact the catalyst for me getting into walking again? That said it was pretty much two years after this before I continued in this vein!