Tintagel to Crackington Haven

Early exchange on the path: a couple coming towards me, she on a higher path, he on a lower. Fearlessly introducing my trademark smart remark, says I to them both
"Difference of opinion?"
He:" she always takes the high road"
She: "Whatever I do, he always does something different"
So, says I to both: "Who gets the last word?"
She: "He does, when he says sorry"

Killer.

Final section of this week, sadly very mist-ridden and one of the hardest days so far. Good to complete, though and now only 135 miles to go! Summary etc on Komoot here.

A lovely start to the day, I drove to Tintagel to leave the car parked and start where I'd left off yesterday. No walker likes going downhill (there'll be a price to pay) but I had to get to the Haven first and in fairness it looked great

The path then climbs (there's the price) up on to the cliffs for the walk along Smith's Cliff toward the first Willapark (confusingly there are two). At this stage the sun was still strong and the views, as expected, superb.
 

The next surprise was a place called Rocky Valley, which I'd not heard of.

It's a narrow, stream-cut valley with tumbling water and a sheltered sunny position. Quite beautiful.





Moving on from here towards Firebeacon Hill it was getting increasingly misty so I started looking at the trail instead of the view. Surprisingly I seem to have come across Harry Hill's bench, though knowing him it might all be a wind-up.

Also found this classic stile (very stile-ish, as John W would say). As far as I know this herringbone wall stile is peculiar to Cornwall - I certainly don't remember seeing it anywhere else.

Then it was past some slate workings before arriving at Willapark, confusingly with the same name as the earlier headland. There's an NCI lookout on this one and some interesting field management that the National Trust has kept on the old system of 'Forrabury Stitches' - essentially a strip method of farming.

From there I headed down out of the clouds into Boscastle. Once again, the last time here had been with Karen; I remember visiting most of the craft stores! The Museum of Witchcraft and Magic had been closed then and today I wanted to press on - maybe next time.
The harbour is a natural inlet protected by two stone harbour walls built in 1584 by Sir Richard Grenville and is the only significant harbour for 20 miles along the coast.

You may recall the terrible flash floods here in 2004 when people were trapped on roofs, in cars, in buildings and on the river's banks as the roads were under 9 ft of water and the village's visitor centre was washed away. It sparked the largest peacetime rescue operation ever launched in the UK. There was another flood in 2007 although much less serious.Thankfully all looks restored now. 
Also in that year the BBC started showing 'A Seaside Parish' about the then newly-appointed rector, Christine Musser.

I did see a tractor-clock in the NT shop, though that had my grandson's name (metaphorically) all over it:

After a National Trust soup pit stop lunch (did I mention the earlier 2-flapjack elevenses?) I decided to carry on to Crackington Haven. The section is marked Strenuous but I figured after yesterday's Severe I could handle it - hmm. No surprise that the path soon rose into the mist (quite possibly the other way round) and began to show me why it had its rating. The climbs were as long as any I'd done so far and pretty steep to boot. Overall the path rises 2,400 ft in 7 miles. An early interlude was the well-known waterfall at Pentargon. I could see it but only just and not worth a photo I'm afraid.

Rusey, with companion

That's High Cliff!

Then a good but cloudy section along Beeny Cliffs to Firebeacon Point (not to be confused with Firebeacon Hill before, but I did) and eventually up above the cloud into sunshine. Beautiful, reminded me of alpine walks as a kid on our summer holidays. It had been a tough climb and I hoped it had been up High Cliff, the highest cliff in Cornwall at 735 ft, but experience has taught me now to get evidence. Sure enough, it was only Bucator, before Rusey cliff and then High Cliff. Shame I didn't get to see the sea again until Crackington Haven but the view was still pretty special

Bucator, I think

Plenty of up and down and the knees starting to protest but nothing a flapjack and a drink won't sort. The final hill is Cambeak from where it's a walk down to Crackington Haven. This is one place I certainly hadn't been before and it was smaller than I had expected. It also suffered in the 2004 floods.

The cafe staff sorted me out with tea and tiffin and, incredibly, taxied me back to Tintagel. Not for free but still another random act of kindness that I'm getting used to down here. Natasha very excited about her forthcoming bee hives - so enjoyable these serendipitous conversations.

So there we are: plan accomplished, so far at least, and a cumulative 496 miles and 87,550 ft. Gosh.
I shall be sad to leave Julian and Helen (and of course Nipper the dog), my hosts here in Port Isaac, who have been marvelously welcoming and I hope to come back soon and get to know the village better. Perhaps the open studios week if it's on next year.

The walk continues on June 11th, by which time I expect to be unfit and flabby again, so standby for more blogging then. TTFN

Peter

Port Isaac to Tintagel

I hadn't been exactly looking forward to this section, labelled "Severe" in the SWCP handbook but in the end I managed it without too much fuss. It probably helped that there was a lot of mist (while the rest of you were enjoying the UK's allegedly warmest spring bank holiday for years) so I couldn't see what was coming. The mist stayed for the whole walk so the photos are a bit dull but you can see the route on Komoot here.

First though Port Isaac, of which I haven't said much so far. I was greeted with joy at the Angry Anchovy (Pizza restaurant) tonight because they'd overcharged me yesterday and were upset that they didn't know where I was staying, to make amends. So a cheap meal tonight 😊. Usually they know where everyone is - part of the community feel that makes this place so welcoming. Reminds me a little of Scilly, or Orkney. The view leaving this morning was idyllic and with promises of a scorcher I headed out warp factor 50'd as usual.

Of course it hasn't changed at all since Karen and I were last here and we both really loved it so for this blog I thought I'd talk about it more than I have for the other places: it's special.

The town was already recorded as a fishing village in 1338 and its pier was constructed during the reign of Henry VIII. The village centre dates from the 18th and 19th centuries, from a time when the port handled cargoes of coal, wood, stone, ores, limestone, salt, pottery and heavy goods. It's still very much a working harbour and there are about 8 large boats working from here

The streets are notoriously narrow and winding – don’t even think of driving in to it: park the car and walk down – you’ll see more that way anyhow. The infamous Squeeze-ee-belly Alley was in the 1987 Guinness book of records as the world’s narrowest public thoroughfare, at 18” minimum! The historic core of the village was designated a Conservation Area in 1971 and it has around 90 grade II listed buildings. 80% of the houses ‘down below’ (i.e. the cute, narrow lanes around the harbour) are second homes or holiday lets and somewhat deserted in the off-season. The rest are ‘the top’ and that’s where I stayed, with a glorious view out to sea and the, er mist all day. It’ll be better tomorrow.

Port Isaac's crew and shore helpers man the lifeboat station 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, providing full coverage of part of the north coast of Cornwall. In July 2012, the crew of the lifeboat received medals for gallantry - only the second time in RNLI history that the entire crew of a D class lifeboat have received them and the first time a silver medal was awarded to a member of a Port Isaac crew since 1870.

Owing to its smuggling (called “fair trading” in Cornwall) history many of the cottages’ inside and outside dimensions don’t quite tally. There are connecting spaces between roofs and the occasional secret room. Smuggling will never completely die out and in 1981 the Trelawney was caught trying to smuggle cocaine into Polzeath harbour – the hastily dumped stash was later found drifting with the ship’s anchor attached. Oops!

Many will know Port Isaac from the Doc Martin (no relation) series but it has also been the location for a number of other film and TV productions, including Tarry-Mann, Tarry-Man, Scarey Old Spooky Man on BBC in 1978 (no, me neither) and the Shell Seekers with Vanessa Redgrave in 2005 (er, nope again). It is also well known for the Fisherman’s Friends Shanty Singers. The name and the group continue to evolve, now with more music and less a capella. 

So past Port Gaverne and on up the cliffs with a hot sunny day in prospect, I'd even got my hat on. Nice at first but the weather soon closed in

That was pretty much it for coastal views for the day, unfortunately: I'm told it's very scenic. The path was as advertised, very steep and up and down but I find if I put the brain in neutral (yes, yes, not difficult) and don't look up too often the climbs are completed quickly enough. One walker I met, a Ramblers Association guide on a busman's holiday, reckoned the Lake District climbs were harder because longer. There were some glimpses of the rocks and surf below

Keeping to my new resolution I stopped for elevenses. Today it was 6 squares of fruit and nut chocolate, two flapjacks and 250ml of water. Perfect. I've always maintained that flapjacks are health food. Thus fortified I pressed on: more up and down.

I wrote before about the rhythm of walking and how some tunes just fit. Well, courtesy of Pete's Oklahoma earworm I've now found a good slow one for the uphill trudge. It's "Pore Jud is Dead". Try it, you'll see. I like the lyrics too, as in 'his fingernails have never been so clean'

It really is a wonderful coastline and such a shame I couldn't see more of it.


I had to make do with photos of sheep, to feed Deb's obsession

Eventually I reached Trebarwith Strand, in time for lunch at the cafe. Homemade tomato soup with wholemeal bread. Yum. In 1974 the film Malachi's Cove was largely made here, with Donald Pleasance as Malachi. The strand also stood in for Shakespeare's coast of Illyria in the 1996 production of Twelfth Night.
The path after this is relatively easy all the way to Tintagel. What I hadn't realised is just how much slate mining there has been, starting in the fifteenth century. This has had quite an impact on the cliffs as you can see from the old mine workings. Incidentally the slate was loaded onto ships at the base of the cliffs, which must have been quite a sight

So eventually to Tintagel, again I was last there with Karen but also the girls. There wasn't much point in visiting the mythical site (not that King Arthur ever lived anyway, probably) but for old time's sake here's a mist-erious view

It's all the fault of Geoffrey of Monmouth, who invented the history of Britain (c. 1135) and made Tintagel the place of Arthur's conception. The castle whose ruins can be seen was built by Richard, Earl of Cornwall in the 13th century but there are traces of an earlier high status settlement which had links with the Mediterranean in the late Roman period. It became a tourist destination when the Victorians were fascinated by the Arthurian legends. It's now one of English Heritage's top attractions, with 200,000 visitors a year. The isthmus has eroded significantly and a new cantilevered steel footbridge is due to open next year.
In 2015/16 the artist Peter Graham carved a foot-high bearded face representing Merlin into a rock nearby.

Last day tomorrow, at least for this trip, and hopefully I'll get to Crackington Haven. The forecast is again for sunshine all the way but I'm not trusting that! Less than 150 miles to the finish now.

Peter 

Rock to Port Isaac

There are little balls of wet falling - what are they? Oh wait, it's rain! That wasn't forecast. Suits me, though, don't want it too hot. Today's target is Port Isaac where the fun starts (aka the Severe section) tomorrow. The trip had its moments today but all well eventually. Route summary and pictures on Komoot here.

So goodbye to the Camel estuary, looking quite different this morning, not least as it's full of water today. Guess that happens a lot

Not the best day for photos as the mist persisted for most of the day I'm afraid. Polzeath was the first place on the route and judging by the size of the enormous car park it's fearfully busy in summer. You can see why as its a safe and surfing beach.

Polzeath is famous (?) for the fact that the Famous Five didn’t holiday here – in the first novel of the series the children expressed disappointment that their holiday was not to be spent, as usual, at Polzeath. It has been a favourite destination for both David Cameron and John Betjeman.

In 1991 the BBC used Polzeath as the eponymous location for “Tresoddit for Easter” – can’t say I remember it.

Just around the corner from this it all starts to get a bit rocky and I met a volunteer waiting for help to rescue this abandoned (by its mother) seal pup which had apparently been on the beach all night. It wasn't looking too bad but clearly needed attention. Apparently there's a seal sanctuary nearby.

It's not easy to see but (s)he's on the shingle just to the left of the rocks.












From there it's up to Pentire Point where, according to the book, there are the best views on the whole SWCP. Hmm, well not today. This view is looking North. Or maybe South. Not sure.

Actually it wasn't that bad 😀 but it was pretty misty. There's a plaque on the headland to say that the WW1 poem that I've already blogged about somewhere else was actually composed here. I'll let them fight it out. From here it's through the Rumps and the remains of a hill fort. You can just see the ramparts from the other side of the bay. Apparently.

The Rumps

All along here spring has really got going and the bluebells in particular were a sight.
They seem to thrive on hillsides here whereas I'm used to them being woodland plants. the garlic was powerful today as well and the foxgloves are just starting to appear.




The path is clear and well trodden from here and next up is Lundy Bay and the Lundy Hole

Lundy Bay

Lundy Bay

Lundy Hole

By now I'm starting to get peckish and looking forward to lunch - how habits have changed. One thoughtful friend (no names but you know who you are Pike) suggested I just might have more energy after stopping for "a little something" so I had hopes for Port Quin - just up the path and I'd get there spot on lunch time. Desolated to find that the OS showed no cafe, but elated to find a van selling BLTs among other health foods, and that the just-departing 16 teenaged hikers from New Jersey had left some for me. Guess what - Charlie was right: who knew?
Port Quin is tiny though for some reason I'd expected it to be bigger.

The cottages on the harbour are all holiday lets (as is the big house up the road) and it's really not a surfing beach so it was very quiet. Beautifully so. Although small now, the size of the fish cellars in Port Quin show it used to be quite prosperous. the economy was mainly based on pilchards but this was also where granite from Lundy quarries was landed. There were also some small local tin mines.

It also has, on a headland on the approaches to the harbour, an old Victorian folly - Castle Droyden, built about 1830 by a Samuel Symons (a late Regency bon viveur from Wadebridge). As I was taking a picture I remembered that this is where the fantasist pharmacist in Doc Martin goes loopy. You had to see it - too long to explain.

Much refreshed and refuelled, onwards and inevitably upwards onto Kellen Head. From here there would be a natural path along the drystone wall but because the farmer's fence is 30 ft downhill from that the path has to go through many convolutions to find a route along what's left. This means as you've probably sussed a lot of up and down. Still, good practice for the section tomorrow 😕.

So by now I'm feeling pleased that I'm nearly at Port Isaac: and then I met a woman from Montreal who is terrified of the cows in a field that is on our route, so I agreed to walk with her. No problem, I thought, done this loads of times, just ignore them or shoo them away.

These 'cows' (actually yearling bullocks I found out later) hadn't read the instructions though and were very lively, starting to jump up and down, heads lowered, wanting me to play. This is one of the offenders, he kept staring like that for some while

Not good, I'm no toreador and anyway I haven't a cape. Or a sword. Plus they're bigger than I am. The two of us (me and Ms Montreal, not me and the bullock) then spent 20 minutes in a quiet corner waiting for them all to calm down and ignore us before we could move on.

So arrived in Port Isaac, seems like only a couple of days since I was here.

Now, today's cock up was leaving some clothes behind in the B&B in Newquay so I needed to get a cab back to the car in Rock, then to Newquay, then back to the B&B for tonight in Port Isaac. Easy, huh? Er, no. No mobile signal, the cab only goes up to the park and ride and anyway his phone's not on line.

I walked up to the B&B and Julian's son then very kindly took me to Rock. What nice folks. Fellow guests (from California) had already heard the 'cows' story ("saved by a very nice 'young man' " 😊) and in the pizza restaurant later the waitress knew the cattle involved and the man from the Port Quin van hailed me like an old friend. I already feel like I'm part of the community.
Incidentally they're filming here at the moment the story of Fisherman's Friends.

Fascinating facts on Port Isaac will have to wait until tomorrow I'm afraid: I need my restorative sleep ahead of tomorrow's challenging walk to Tintagel. Sun forecast so hopefully better visibility.
Only two more days this trip - distance now under 160 miles.

Peter

Porthcothan to Padstow

Firstly, apologies are in order from yesterday's blog, to Mawgan Porth and Porthcothan as I couldn't find anything interesting to say about them - then again, maybe nothing much happens there 😉. I'll try a bit harder for Padstow...
.. which was today's destination. P&D dropped me off at the hard-to-find car park in Porthcothan, having left my car at Padstow. They returned to London today to re-engage with civilisation and for Pete's back to recover from the Hotel Bristol's softer-than-he's-used-to beds. I'm reliably informed that Debs snuck in a cream tea before finally leaving the West Country - proper order.

Today's walk was two sections of the Path, both graded 'Easy'. I'm now properly in North Cornwall and according to the book have only 180 miles to go (and 30,000 ft to climb). Should be under 150 by the end of this visit; exciting, no? Today's trip, with a record number of photos, on Komoot here.

Leaving Porthcothan, all warp factor 50'd for the sunny forecast on a beautiful morning:

Where yesterday's walk was all about beaches, today (with a couple of exceptions) it's all about Coves, Holes, Headlands and dizzyingly steep drops, and straightaway I wasn't disappointed.

The wind had dropped but there was still quite a swell. I love to see the waves smashing onto the rocks - could watch it for hours, it's hypnotic like an open fire. Maybe it's also a bit of the vandal in me.

First beach of the day at Treyarnon Bay. It can't really compete with the monsters we saw yesterday but it's small and perfectly formed (just like the original, Wayne Sleep) and ideally placed next to the Youth Hostel.  The main beaches of the day come shortly after, Constantine and the unfortunately named Booby's Bay.

Certainly looks a good surfing beach and there are schools based here. There are some interesting inscriptions on the memorial benches too: such as "Lark song and sea sound in the air, and splendour, splendour everywhere" or "The Captain and the Purple Lady - The sun is always over the yardarm".

Then it's past Mackerel and Stinking coves (presumably only a timing difference) as well as the first of the Holes: this one is Round Hole

I don't know what caused them but they look like the collapsed sea caves I saw on the South coast.

I'm not good at all on heights so these were take lying full length near the edge. Karen I know would have simply leaned over for a better look!

We've left the mining areas behind so I don't think they're anything to do with that. More Googling required.

Then round Trevose Head which has amazing views South back to West Penwith the other side of St Ives, just visible in the haze, and over to Bude in the North.

The track then comes to Mother Ivey's Bay where there's a classic lifeboat station and a recently restored Art Deco house

Looks like an Hercule Poirot era location. I half expected to see a classic 1930s car in the drive.

Once past the bay and Cataclews Point next up is Harlyn Bay, another large and popular surfing beach. This coastline reminds me so much of Orkney and Shetland, except that there the beaches are never crowded.
Much windyer, but not crowded. Again, you can judge the scale by the people in the distance.

You could have such fun here with a sand yacht. 
In 1865 a labourer found two wafer-thin crescents of gold known as lunulae here, thought to be early Bronze Age grave goods.

By now I'm starting to think about "a little something" and more than just my trail food (flapjacks, chocolate covered peanuts, oatcakes, fruit and nut chocolate - just normal health food) so following my new resolution, two pit stops today. The first at the end of Harlyn beach, where the van owner told me that in season they typically get 1,000 cars in the car park, as well as the walkers and nearby campers, so clearly to be avoided then. I didn't fancy his offer of cup-a-soup (getting choosy now) so after a cup of tea I moved on to a proper cafe on Trevone Bay. 
Now you'll be pleased to know that In early 2007, Trevone Bay was used as the setting for the Rennault Clio Ripcurl advert, featuring two surfers contemplating going into the sea.

 Passing Newtrain Bay I came across this which I assume is a sea pool

I've never seen one before but I imagine on a sunny day it gets quite warm, it certainly looks inviting.

Fortified by something-and-red-pepper soup and knowing this was about the half way point for today, I set off again for the long run up to Stepper Point.

There's another succession of vertiginous cliffs and gullies and at Gunver head it has partly separated from the mainland.

Gunver Head

Pepper Hole

It took more nerve-shredding moments to photograph this, from a precarious ledge over a 50 ft drop on a windy spot. None of which is apparent, so quite disappointing really. Which is why I have to tell you about it.

There are more holes here, Butter Hole which is open to the sea and Pepper Hole which isn't and was for me the most phobia inducing of the lot. Still, a blog can't be without its seasoning so a photo of Pepper Hole is needed.

Rounding Stepper Point with its daymark (identifying the Camel estuary for shipping) and its National Coastwatch station you can see for the first time the Camel estuary. I got quite a shock as I wasn't prepared for how huge and how magnificent it is. There's a sand bank partially blocking the river estuary, known as the Doom Bar and now the name of a beer from the St Austell brewery.

Slightly alarmingly there's no sign of Padstow yet, which is about 5 kms to go. Still, it's a pretty scenic 5 kms. A perfect day to see it of course but it's also not built up in the way that Newquay and environs have suffered and that's surprising given its popularity with the moneyed metropolitan elite (it's an upmarket destination with something of a reputation for wild, moneyed youth).
Altogether quite beautiful. At this stage of the tide I was able to do the next 2 kms along the beach, falling in with a couple I'd met earlier and following what looked like a knowledgeable local - and as I soon found out, when we caught her up, much to her amusement.

So finally into Padstow and for all my cynicism about Padstein I really liked it. When Karen and I were here before it was very crowded and locals advise to avoid entirely for August but today it wasn't and it had a very relaxed vibe. I'd just missed the Mayday celebrations (of which, more below) but much of the bunting was still up and contributed to the festive air. Getting back to the carpark in the old station yard I found it was next to the National Lobster Hatchery and Rick Stein's cooking school  - now you don't find that everywhere.

Originally called Pedroc-Stowe after the Welsh missionary St Petroc, they have strange customs in Padstow. There’s the ‘Obby ‘Oss festival (which starts at midnight on Mayday), seemingly descended from an old fertility rite, probably Beltane, and the Mummers’ or Darkie Day in midwinter. The Darkie Day title has now been dropped.

It’s also the start and end point for the Camel cycle trail (Camel is from the Cornish Kammel, meaning crooked)).

So now only 166 miles to go, a good 13.6 done today. Tomorrow starts at Rock, the other side of the Camel from Padstow, as I move on to Port Isaac. Forecast good, shouldn't need gaiters. Can't wait.

Peter