Well what a lovely evening in Seaton with two of my oldest friends, treating me to dinner, then waving us off in the morning, and having tea and cakes ready at the halfway point, and all because they love me !!! Sean and Chris are seriously two of my oldest and bestest friends, and I know they would have loved to have walked a section, today would not have been the day. Out of Seaton among the husstle and bustle of the park run runners warming up on the promanade. Over the oldest remaining concrete bridge in the Country and then up and up to a golf club. You then walk the length of the first hole to reach the path that remains following massive landslips all along this section of coast. You then rise to the wonderfully named Goat Island to begin entry to another world. Commentators on the various SWCP forums describe this as very much a Marmite section, I can see why, and if the rain had been falling this would take on a whole new challenge. It is described as “The strange world of the undercliff” and in my mind and eyes it is truly magnificant. This is an old landslip that has no access to the sea or internally to land, once you are in, you are in, and I think I may have seen a dinosaur or two. Nature has been allowed to flourish, and rewild a landscape that is both magical and spooky at the same time. There is even a warning sign at the start stating that the terrain can be difficult and the walking ardious. And it is in every aspect, but as with many other sections of this path, nature is in charge, birds sing, insects bite, wierd and wonderful plants flourish and man is allowed just a fleeting access to pass through, and the exit brings you to the magnificant Lyme Regis. Fond memories of family and friend days past, Pete Hoyes dislocating his shoulder jumping off the Cobb, Gavin geting a fish hook in his foot jumping off the Cobb, crabbing and then releasing 30 plus crabs as the crowds scattered, but today is the here and now, and the place is full, and once more everyone appears happy. My mates have driven ahead and have a cream tea for our halfway point, special people. We dwell perhaps a bit too long and then face the big diversion inland, again rising steeply out of the town, and circumnavigating another golf course. The land here is being taken back by nature on a regular basis, and of course it is a paradise for fossel hunters. We meet Jed who is selling numerous fossels outside the front of his house, not sure how legal that is. After an eternal climb the path turns back seaward and you drop into the very charming seaside village/town of Charmouth. Cricket on the beach is being taken very seriously, and there appears to be numerous fossil hunters spread along the coastline. But now we face the the bruts that have dominated the vista for the past three miles. Golden Cap, the highest point on the South Coast, and it appears to have two sister hills before the path brings you back to the bottom to start again. A big climb after 24 kilometers already on the clock. A fantastic challenge and we are up for it, passing numerous flagging walkers, with head down, small steps, a complete lack of air and sweat appearing from every pore. We make it and admire it, and the legs are happy to be on level ground for all of two minutes as we descend to Seatown/Chideoak for the nights rest. A fantastic day, my chums have done me proud, and England is resplendant once again as the sun now breaks through the clouds. 3225 feet of assent in one day, 27 kilometers on the strava, 15 miles on the official clock. 76 to go, how I am going to miss this. Dennis’s last day of four and he has been a wonderful walking partner, the days have flown by.