Perranporth to Newquay

Lovely day's walking today. Bit windy but the weather held up most of the time and the beaches were just amazing. Pete and Debs along for the ride today, each with iPhones loaded with OS maps so we had 3 navigators at all times! They have three clocks on a ship so it's clear which one is wrong: doesn't always work like that with people... Trip summary on Komoot here.

North Cornwall certainly does beaches and Perranporth is one of the biggest. It's a monster

We elected to go through the sand dunes (on the left, above) rather than along the beach and, like the Towans after Hayle, they are just lovely terrain. I think I like them most just because no-one's messed with them, they're completely natural and rather like the Orkney and Shetland coasts that Karen and I both loved.
Once past the rather depressing (and seemingly derelict) Penhale army camp, the path turns the corner and into Holywell. P&D looking pleased to be out of the cliff top gales and not yet blase about yet another beach.

It does seem at first that there's nothing here but a solitary surf lifesavers club on the beach but the path goes inland more than I supposed and presto - there's a pub/cafe. I don't need persuading any more that pit stops are a good idea so it was two cups of tea and a monster muffin later when we set off again.

Of course we're seeing these beaches at low tide but even at high tide, and in the season, it looks like there's more than enough space for everyone. Holywell Bay incidentally is where W J Burley, author of the Wycliffe novels, lived.

Up and around another headland and next up is Porth Joke (apparently Cornish to do with abundant vegetation). This was quite the most captivating beach of the walk today, which is high praise. It's secluded but by no means small, deserted (today anyway) and the car park is out of sight half a mile away.

There are no cafes or shops, it's just a natural beautiful beach, with a small stream running into it to boot. Go take a look if you have the chance, I don't think you'll be disappointed. Oh, and yes, it does have quite a lot of vegetation, like these native English bluebells

From there to Pentire head. The WW1 commemorative poem “They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old….” was composed by Laurence Binyon as he sat by the cliffs here.

Coming round the Point and onto Crantock beach, Newquay comes into view. The beach is as ever huge but nevertheless it looks like it won't be long to the end. This is a mistake, in fact it's at least as far again as we've come from Holywell - not that we realised at the time.

We didn't investigate Crantock because the weather was starting to close in so I'm sorry to have forgotten about a cave on the beach that has a carving of a woman’s face and the poignant inscription:

“Mar not my face but let me be,

Secure in this lone cave by the sea,

Let the wild waves around me roar,

Kissing my lips for evermore”.

It’s supposed to have been carved by her distraught lover after she (and her horse) drowned here, cut off by the tide. Let that be a warning…..

Crantock also holds an annual charity event called the ‘Big Bale Push’ as well as the Guinness world record for bale pushing. Not sure how much competition there is for the title though.

We opted for the shorter ferry crossing over the river Gannel, only to find that it's not running yet this year, so plan B was the footbridge, only available when the tide's sufficiently out but at least on this we got lucky. The alternative was a 4 mile detour (I've had enough of those).

As you can see, it doesn't go all the way across so you have to pick your way across the dry-ish river bed to get to it. Once across we needed a Nav conference to figure out where to go next

Safely ashore on the right bank (rive droite, so to speak) we headed off into Newquay, the largest shopping centre on the North coast.

One of the key holiday destinations on the North Cornwall coast, its population of 20,000 in 2011 has increased to 30,000 today and the area is heavily developed. A development started in 2012 on similar lines to Dorchester’s Poundbury, and inevitably known locally as Surfbury. William Golding, author of Lord of the Flies, was born in Newquay.

As well as nine  large and popular beaches for the usual collection of watersports (allegedly the surf capital of the UK) it also has a station and an airport, making it very accessible. The airport is the UK test base for engines for the bloodhound land speed record challenge (aiming to achieve a speed of 1,000 mph on salt flats in South Africa) and is a contender to become one of the UK’s first spaceports.

Karen and I rented our first beachside property here, on Porth Beach which we'll pass tomorrow. It gave us the idea that ultimately led to the Perranporth flat.

It feels like an anticlimax to come from the wild open spaces of the Coast Path and into a modern holiday town. Somehow walking along suburban pavements through residential estates just doesn't feel right, the contrast is too jarring. It's why these sections, like those through Weymouth and Falmouth, for me don't really count. Still, it's the modern reality, without which there wouldn't be the employment or progress that locals enjoy so I can't be too snobbish about it.

Tomorrow the plan is for Porthcothan so we'll leave the 'metropolis' of Newquay behind. As I write the wind and rain are pretty noisy so although it's supposed to have stopped by the time we get walking, it'll quite likely be time to don gaiters again. Hopefully we'll get some sun for good pictures as there will be another 5 miles or so of beaches.

Peter