Morwenstow to Hartland Quay

Right, final part of the Severe section seen off and a spectacular finish at Hartland Quay. A shorter leg than usual (and a lot less than yesterday) but as expected a tough one and we were happy to call it a day by 4 pm. Usual Komoot summary here.
We started in the churchyard at Morwenstow, with this weird effigy on a post with no explanation:

I have no idea what this is about.The church was renovated by Rev Hawker (he of the hut) and I learned from Rob at the Bush Inn that he also was responsible for building a school, the vicarage, a bridge in Duckpool and sundry other ventures. Clearly a philanthropist he did a lot to improve the situation of the villagers in his parish (although it turns out it was his wife's money that funded all this!) So maybe he's allowed an eccentricity or two. If it's his.




Apparently he also changed the name of the village from Morwinstow, meaning something like a wet windy place on the moor, to the current more pleasing (to his ear) name. I think this all predated Poldark's Morwenna, though.


The path took us straight back to the cliffs I'd left the night before and they were just as spectacular.

A particular feature along this section is the striated rock formations. Bearing in mind that these are sedimentary rocks and therefore were originally horizontal it is easy to see the extent of upheavals over the millennia. Some strata are now vertical.

And Litter Mouth certainly looks well named, for the abundance of rough rocks strewn over the beach.

It wasn't long before we left Cornwall, and they feel strongly about that sort of thing here, reminding us of the fact even on as remote a place as the coast path. There's an equivalent one the other side of course, announcing Cornwall.

From here to Hartland Quay there was very little habitation, it really is very bleak along here. Although it looks magnificent on a hot sunny day I'm guessing it's another story in a storm. Rob (again) told me they'd had to effectively close the Coast Path around Easter when there was so much rain the mud made it impossible. Now what does that remind me of? (clue: Fowey and what followed)

There was the occasional place like this where the owners have done a great job to renovate and extend. Definitely a good place to chill out

One curiosity was Ronald Duncan's writing hut.

 It sounds a Scottish sort of name but he was born Ronald Frederick Henry Dunkelsbühler in Zimbabwe. He was a poet, author and playwright, read English at Cambridge, wrote some libretti for Benjamin Britten (incl Rape of Lucretia) and was a noted pacifist, setting up a co-operative farm near here. He also wrote the script for Girl on a Motorcycle starring Marianne Faithfull. He wrote many of his poetry and plays at this hut and it is kept open during the day for anyone to use.

After a tough few ups and downs (we counted 4 on this section and I think there were at least 6 on yesterday's) we came to Welcome Mouth. Again you can see the continuing rock strata on the beach



Unbeknown to us the climb up from here is pretty much the last hurrah for the ascents and then it's easy walking along cliff tops . 
Nic was so pleased to be told that it was flat from here that he promptly proposed to the woman who told him, much to her husband's bemusement. 
The Landscape's just as amazing as before:

and the local herd came to check us out - very inquisitive as ever.

So finally we got to Hartland Quay. Given its location it's hard to get a good picture so I grabbed this one off the net and you can see why. It is in a superb position - driving down to it feels like you're going to go over the edge of the cliff!


The harbour dated back to the time of Henry VIII until a storm led to the complete destruction of the pier head and later the whole pier wall in 1887. Parts of the old formation stones can be seen at low tide. The old Customs House (where I'm staying) has been a hotel since 1886 and its former stables are now 'The Wrecker's Retreat' bar. There is an Abbey here in nearby Hartland which was the last to be disestablished by Henry VIII, who gave it to his sergeant of the wine cellar, appropriately enough. Parts of it featured in the BBC’s 2008 Sense and Sensibility. 

Mary Norton, who wrote the Borrowers novels, is buried nearby. Films shot here include Treasure Island (1950) and Solomon Kane (2009).

Couldn't resist a sunset photo, given I never quite made it to one in Portugal 😀

Tomorrow off to Clovelly though the path doesn't take us right through it. Last day for Nic who has to go back to London. It's been great to have his support - no-one got past today without a smart remark from one or the other of us!

Peter

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.

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