Crackington Haven to Morwenstow

Here we go again, back on the trail after a lazy few weeks in Ireland and Scotland. Although it has to be said the hills are a lot bigger in Scotland. Especially Ben Nevis. Thanks to Clan Skinner for a fantastic intro to Monroes, and a warm welcome into the extended (and extensive) family celebrations.
So as they say in these parts "dydh da dhe my nowydh koweth brynken" or, Hello. It's good to be walking again and especially because today was an epic day: 17+ miles, over 3,000 feet and reached the last parish in Cornwall. Komoot summary here. 
Started at Crackington Haven from where you may remember Natasha drove me back to Tintagel last time. Since I contrived to lock myself out from the hotel the first morning (B'fast doesn't start 'til 8.30 and no-one around in the early morning) I wandered over to get an update. Turns out she got the bees but they all flew off pretty quickly! So that's two things not going according to plan, hope it's not an omen for today.
I shouldn't have worried. It was a beautiful morning to start, though too warm for my taste

Looking back I can now see the huge hills I climbed last time that were covered in cloud then. Fearsome.

Until the nineteenth century, Crackington Haven was a small port similar to many others on the north coast of Cornwall. Limestone and coal were imported and slate and other local produce were exported. After the railways reached the district in 1893 the village could be reached more easily (from the station at Otterham) so holidaymaking became more common.

I'm not as well equipped for hot weather walking but a full-zip cycling top and broad brimmed sun hat were about right (+ warp factor 50). Long trousers essential despite the heat, for getting through thigh-high nettle patches unscathed. New boots, as my beloved Loma had split their stitching, from Merrell and I'm off.
This section passes along a coastline with dramatic rock formations. Bear in mind that these layers used to be horizontal until some ancient upheavals:

Since my last visit all the plants have shot up and some sections were savannah high. I think grasses are much under-rated and they were looking particularly awesome, as were the foxgloves

This is a pretty hilly section, as befits the rock formations, but eventually the path comes out onto a stretch of cliff tops and the walking gets easier. The white domes and dishes of GCHQ just discernible in the murky distance. Appropriate for spooks, perhaps.

 The path comes down into the tiny hamlet of Millook (as in: has Millookk changed - not a lot: groan).

In 2014 the cliffs at Millook Haven were voted by the Geological Society of London as one of Britain's top 10 geological sites, leading the "folding and faulting" category. Described in a 1993 report as the “best ravine wood in Cornwall” the site was previously listed as a Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI). Composed mainly of large pebbles and coarse shingle, it isn't a bathing beach but is a well known spot amongst experienced surfers. On a peaceful sunny day it just looked a picture. Perhaps less so on a stormy Sou'Westerly.

They clearly take their fishing seriously, I've never seen this kind of notice before.

From there it's up another cliff and almost suddenly there is Widemouth Bay. Can't think why they called this enormous beach that. Karen and I rented one of the houses here - a beautifully appointed eco-house with ground source heating, solar thermal, and a green roof. One of the best we had and the girls plus Steve and Arthur joined us. As I recall, I was the only one to 'brave' the sea, albeit in a wet suit and only for about 5 minutes. Wuss)

It's then a long trudge across the back of the beach to the cliffs on the far side. The striking rock formations can be seen all along here.

Called locally ‘Widmouth Bay’, just so you know. Widemouth Bay is very long open bay popular with families and surfers and at low tide there are hundreds of rock pools to explore. This stretch of coast is steeped in smuggling history and not far south there are many little inlets and coves. Sloops from Wales would use Widemouth as a port (in the most basic sense), unloading coal and limestone; sloops would take back to Wales Cornish wares such as granite, slate, tin, copper and even Cornish pasties The gentle beaches in the bay are also the landing points for many submarine cables that link the UK with other parts of the world. The proximity to GCHQ Bude installation allows data sent on these cables to be intercepted by them.

The path then pretty much follows the road until, just before Bude, revealing the beach that I never knew it had and the well known Compass Point. This octagonal former coastguard lookout with the compass points carved onto its sides is modelled on the Temple of Winds in Athens.

You can see here the end of the old harbour works. The cliffs around Bude are the only ones in Cornwall that are made of Carboniferous sandstone, as most of the Cornish coast is formed of Devonian Slate, Granite and Precambrian metamorphic rocks. The figurehead of the Bencoolen, a barque wrecked on the reefs at the base of the cliffs in 1862 is in the town museum. Until the start of the 20th century, the neighbouring town of Stratton was dominant: as locals say "Stratton was a market town when Bude was just a furzy down" (furze means gorse hereabouts)

There is a canal here that used to run all the way to Launceston, but is now only a few miles long. Originally built by the Bude Canal Company (who’d have guessed) in the 17^th century, it has a wharf connecting to the tidal basin with the only manually operated sea lock gates in England. 

Because the sands at Bude are unique for these parts in containing the fertiliser calcium carbonate, the canal was developed to take loads inland to spread on the fields. The advent of the railways, developed partly in response to the rise in Victorian tourism, heralded its decline but the port continued for some time swapping Cornish grain with Welsh coal.

Bude Castle, now a heritage centre, was built about 1830 for Victorian inventor Sir Goldsworth Gurney – developer of the oxy-hydrogen blowpipe. 

The UK's top manufacturer of air rifle tuning kits, Tinbum (!) Tuning are based just outside of the town – wonder what they used for target practice?

Jean Rhys started her novel The Wide Sargasso Sea while living in Bude in the 1950s and Tori Amos has a home and studio here.

Bude also has a tidal sea-bathing pool which was not obviously very popular the day I passed through.

Originally I'd intended stopping here, for the next leg (Bude to Hartland Quay) is 15 miles and 4,300 feet, rated 'Severe' - one of the few such sections on the entire path (although, mercifully, the last).

However I'd made good time, reaching Bude for lunch of onion soup at the cafe, so much fortified I pressed on.

Well the book didn't lie. The severity lies not in the absolute heights (nothing compared to even a modest Monroe) but in the relentless rise and fall, about 10 250ft-ish over the next seven miles and of course down as well as up. Thank goodness I had the poles. In each of the dips is usually a small hamlet or a cafe and many can be reached by car. Northcott, Sandy Mouth and Duckpool all well worth a visit though probably best out of season.

Northcott

Approaching Sandy Mouth

Duckpool

Each time I thought maybe I'd stop there but I still had plenty of time so again, on I pressed.

At Sharpnose Point (aptly named when you see it) there's an old Coastguard lookout 

It's a shame that all these fell into disrepair when HMCG withdrew its watchers but perhaps this will be rescued like so many others by the National Coastwatch Institution ("Eyes Along the Coast" or more popularly "On the Lookout for Trouble")

Sharpnose Point is the headland at the GCHQ site, a listening station which routinely monitors both satellite and cable traffic. It was paid for largely by the US’s NSA but is run by GCHQ. A 2014 Horizon programme claimed that several large submarine ethernet cables relay copies of the undersea cable traffic (estimated to be 25% of all internet traffic) to GCHQ which then has 30 days to analyse it. The cables have the capacity to transfer the entire digitised British Library in about 40 seconds.

From here it was one last up-and-down and then I took the path inland to Morwenstow, the most northerly parish in Cornwall. Robert Stephen Hawker, who wrote the Cornish anthem Trelawney lived here. His ‘Hawker’s Hut’, looking out to Lundy, remains here in the cliffside. There is a manor house at Stanbury said to be haunted, as is the Tudor Tonacombe Manor.

Set in Stone, the mystery thriller by Robert Goddard is largely based here and Jonah Barrington, my squash hero from the 70s, was born here.

So, finally, into the pub at Morwenstow, The Bush Inn:

They were horrified to hear that I wanted a taxi back to Crackington Haven so, just as happened to me there, Rob insisted on taking me back himself for a lot less cost. Very entrepreneurial round here 😀.

I learned from Rob that outsiders/tourists are known in Devon ("don't you swear in my car") as grockles but in Cornwall as Emmets. This is a Cornish word meaning ant because of the way they get everywhere and are just generally annoying, I suppose.

Well having thus walked half of the 'Severe' section (Rob says the next bit's worse. Thanks Rob) tomorrow is the next bit and Nic has joined me for a couple of days. It'll be good to have the company and chew the fat about important matters of state and so forth as we make our intellectual way. Hmm. Something like that, but good of him to join me. Now he can suffer my ramblings instead of me talking to myself.