Set off from the station, straight into rain and high winds with waves breaking over the seafront so pretty much as expected. Past the Jubilee pool, complete with (rather sad and wintry) palms and other exotica to showcase Penzance's mild climate. Yes, well...
Then on to Newlyn.
Right next to Penzance and
now to all intents and purposes part of it, the largest fishing port in England. It used to be separate and like Mousehole (coming up next) part of the ancient parish of
Paul. Villagers would climb the cliff to worship at Paul church and there used
to be an ancient stone cross on this route where the Cornish sea deity Bucca
was venerated. Newlyn residents are still occasionally referred to as Buccas.
In 1620 Newlyn was the last port of call in
England for the Mayflower. In the 1880s the Newlyn School artists colony was
founded by Elizabeth and Stanhope Forbes and the largest collection of their
work can be seen in the Penlee House gallery in Penzance.
So far it's been pretty much level walking all the way and that doesn't change much until after Mousehole ("Mows'll"). Apart from the eponymous cat (from a children’s book by
Antonia Barber), probably most people have heard of Mousehole because of the
Penlee lifeboat disaster. In December 1981, less than a week before Xmas, the
entire lifeboat crew of 8, all from Mousehole, were lost during an attempted rescue of the crew of
the Union Star in hurricane force winds. Two days later, in a stunning
show of community spirit and respect, there were more than 8 new volunteers to
replace them.
If you remember the Spanish sacking of Penzance in 1595 (see previous blog) they came to Mousehole too and burned down every house but one, that belonging to Squire Keigwin who died defending it. It is still there and the oldest house (of course) in Mousehole. It was built in the 14th century. The picture's a bit rubbish I'm afraid
The Lobster Pot guest house
used to be here, in which Dylan Thomas and Caitlin Macnamara spent
their honeymoon. In 1936 the GPO film unit made The Saving of Bill Blewitt, a short film
to promote the Post Office Savings Bank, featuring the local postman.
So on to Lamorna. I'm really in new territory now as I've never been here. The approach on the coast path is clearly fantastically scenic in good weather but sadly we saw very little because of the low cloud, poor visibility and drizzling rain. Apart from that it was lovely. I must say though that wild weather suits this wild coastline and there were many moments when we both just went "wow". Precipitous slopes down into rocky coves and big surf smashing it from all directions. It's the sound, too. That artillery shell or firework bass 'thump' and the hissing spray. The weather was a help in one way: if I'd been looking at the view I'd surely have broken an ankle or something. The path demands a good deal of concentration, more so in these conditions.
We made it with not too many falls (my gluteus maximus thinks one's enough) into Lamorna and a welcome cafe stop. Nic force fed me a flapjack at this point, I think to assuage his guilt for the full fat bacon sarnie. Actually I don't think Nic does guilt but he probably won't read this anyway.
Lamorna is tiny but lovely. It was used as a location for the filming of Straw Dogs in 1971. The valley is privately owned from The Wink (public house - closed when we got there of course) down to the cove, which is reached by a narrow lane to the car park and quay. The Lamorna Wink by Martha Grimes is about the pub, called The Wink in a reference to smuggling. It has the nameplate from the battleship Warspite.
Lamorna became popular with
artists of the Newlyn School and is particularly associated with the
artist S J "Lamorna" Birch who
lived here from 1908. The writer Arnold Bennnett lived here too, according to the plaque on the wall. {If memory serves, he was a relative of Aldous Huxley who voted one of Arnold's lines 'the worst poetry ever' - "What ails, thou askst, in these bad days my mind". You be the judge.}
There is a song "Way Down to Lamorna", (beloved of many
Cornish singers) about a wayward husband receiving his comeuppance from his
wife. Classic folk song - nothing going right. 
After the pit stop, and a catch up with a couple going our way, it was quite a long slog along the headlands towards Porthcurno. The usually reliable acorn path markers went awol a couple of times and we managed to persuade ourselves we knew what to do - we didn't of course - cue wrong choice, backtrack etc. although nothing serious. It's easy to believe you're where you want to be when you're not and somehow that's always a bit further on than you are. As a result, later on we saw the small but perfectly formed village of Treen on a 2km field 'diversion'. Stupid boy(s).
We met two Aussies halfway to Porthcurno who were soaked head and foot, had no waterproofs, poor footwear and boundless optimism. I doubt they made it to Lamorna but I hope they were OK. A bit later we met their cousin and family so at least someone was looking out for them. With the cousin's navigational guidance we made it down into Penberth.
This is a well known Poldark location, I'm told.
Penberth's first regatta was
held on Saturday, 27 August 1881. There were races for 20 feet (6.1 m) and
18 feet (5.5 m) boats to the Runnel Stone and back, rowing races
for 4-oared ″crabbers″, sculling races for punts, a 400 yards
(370 m) swimming race and the greasy pole contest with a leg of mutton
dangling from the top. There was also a duck hunt, where three birds ″were
flung″; one of the birds was difficult to catch and was allowed to escape.
Music was provided by the Buryan Artillery Volunteers. Sounds to me like they made the rules up round about closing time.
Finally then to Porthcurno. The weather had lifted a little but not so's you could tell, to be honest. The name means 'cove/landing
place of horns or pinnacles'. It became internationally famous as the British
termination of early submarine telegraph cables, the first of which was landed
in 1870, part of an early international link stretching all the way from the UK
to India. It was chosen in preference to the busy port of Falmouth because
of the reduced risk of damage to the cables caused by ships' anchors. The first transatlantic cable started (or ended) here, going first to Brest and then via Saint-Pierre and Miquelon in Canada to Cape Cod. Some modern fibre optic cables also come ashore here and link into the local networks at the terminating station at nearby Skewjack.
In 1872, the Eastern Telegraph Company
(ETC) Limited built a cable office in Porthcurno valley. The concrete cable
hut, where the cable shore ends were connected to their respective landlines,
is a listed building and still stands at the top of the beach. ETC
and its cable operations merged in 1928 with Marconi’s Wireless Telegraph
Company Limited, eventually to become Cable and Wireless Limited
in 1934.
The lack of a secure
comparable cable network forced the Axis powers to use radio communications
which led to their interception and eventual decryption at Bletchley Park where
my father helped build the electronic equipment.
Much of the Porthcurno
equipment was housed in protective tunnels during WW2 and these were camouflaged with
the help of a local artist. The design, when viewed from the air with some
imagination, resembled a belt of trees, complete with rabbits and birds.
Well this is a bit long-winded but is fascinating to me because I'd heard much of it from my father who worked in BT telecom research after the war. So we made a whistle-stop visit to the superb telegraph museum and tunnels there which I loved. I'll go back sometime, hopefully soon.
The most extraordinary open
air theatre, The Minack, is to be found on the cliff top here. It was built
virtually single-handedly by the late Rowena Cade who worked there
into her eighties with the support of local labourers. If you have the chance,
you just have to go: www.minack.com
Hmm. I'll have to get a better picture tomorrow, as we walk by it. They're forecasting sunshine, so here's hoping.
Peter
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