Penzance to Porthcurno

Pretty soggy day all round; rain, wind, spray, cloud oh, and whisper it quietly mud. More or less greyed out all day so the pictures are, well, representative at best. Still, we both enjoyed it and the Cable & Wireless Telegraph museum at the end was a treat, for me anyway. Komoot summary here.

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 

Next leg: Porthleven to Penzance

Off again, this time with Nic to join me. He's not only come all the way out here in solidarity but he's nursing a recovering foot as well - he's got more determination than anyone else I can think of. So there's no question that we're going to make it back to Penzance today, not just Marazion
Lots of rain on Sunday so we anticipated a muddy walk today but we came armed with poles (albeit Nic's weren't extending properly) and gaiters - in my case some new ones which hopefully won't fall down all the time. We'd had a quick recce in Porthleven the previous evening and the sea didn't look friendly at all. Funny how a photo calms it all down... the harbour was especially wild. Full Komoot summary here, as usual.

 Almost immediately we came to the restored engine houses at Trewarvas Head. I associate this coastal mining more with the North coast than here (we'll see, or perhaps Wheal Sea?) but it's such a bleak spot you feel for the poor miners who had to get to and then work here. Shortly after that there's another one, called Wheal Prosper

This started operating in 1860 possibly as an extension of the Wheal Trewarvas mine. By the time it closed in 1866 it had produced mostly tin and a little copper.  This particular mine building was used in the filming of a Poldark sequel.

A bit further on the path takes a wide sweep inland to avoid an extraordinary house completely on its own and right on the cliff edge.
It's Rinsey house, built in the late 1920s and early 1930s by Mr G A Gibb, a London stockbroker. Designed as an Arts and Crafts style holiday home, rock had to be blasted in order to build the foundations, taking four years to build with stone from a local quarry.
I think it's now an AirB&B or some such, so you can stay there. It sleeps 10, with 3 bathrooms and 30 acres of land so it could be a great party venue - but it's a heck of a climb to and from the beach. Astonishingly, since it's so high up, in the storms of 2014 the sea broke over the top of the house. You can see a short video here.



From Rinsey round to Praa Sands. I'd hoped to get here on the previous visit (before the massive diversion at Porthleven) but I'm glad I didn't try as it took a good 2 hours to get here. Praa is a huge sandy beach (the light sand is made from seashells that have been pulverised by wave action over millions of years) and immensely popular in summer. We found the only open cafe and repaired for tea and coffee. Nick forced me to have a muffin: most unusual for me. 

The houses you can just see above the beach are very precarious now with considerable erosion having made them very vulnerable. The coast policy generally is one of managed retreat so there won't be any attempts to protect them and I should imagine they'll be gone after the next storm. You can get some idea of the erosion from these trees that used to be on the cliff top and are now on the beach. I'm sure the others will join them soon.

There's a pretty and interesting section after Praa as the path goes round a succession of small coves; King's, then Bessy's, then Piskies. Just before Bessy's are 2 large stone buildings and the path goes right between them. According to the builder renovating the roofs (so who needs Wikipedia?) this is actually a private house but part of an estate of historic houses and traditional cottages called Porth-en-Alls. The main house sleeps 26(!) and is Victorian, built in 1885 for du Boulay, former Archdeacon of Cornwall in his retirement. 

The coastal path passes though a "circus" formed by the listed buildings of Porth-en-Alls and include a crescent shaped "Lodge". 

The International Musicians Seminar (IMS) Prussia Cove held at Porth-en-Alls was founded by the Hungarian violinist, Sándor Végh and Hilary Tunstall-Behrens in 1972.

Just round the corner from this (of course everything's "just around the corner" in Cornwall) is Piskies Cove, one of the prettiest secluded coves I've seen in Cornwall

Just my type of beach, too: all rocks and none of that boring sand. I always preferred rocks to sand, even as a small kid. Seen one sandcastle seen them all.
Apparently the geology's quite interesting here as well, or as a geologist might put it "the coves show the best example in Cornwall of a mildly metaporhosed, differentiated theoliitic intrusive greenstone that retains good relict igneous textures and mineralogy". Quite.

Collectively the coves are known as Prussia Cove after the 18th-century ship-wrecker and smuggler John Carter, also known as the ″King of Prussia″. See also the pub of the same name in Fowey. In April 1947 HMS Warspite ran aground here whilst being towed to the breakers yard. She was later towed to, beached and broken up at Marazion where there is a commemorative plaque on the sea wall.

From there it's round Cudden Point and finally we had destination Penzance in sight. First proper view of the always impressive St Michael's Mount, too. Did look a bit far away though 😠

And so to Marazion, a very pretty village that probably doesn't get the recognition it deserves as it can't really compete with its spectacular neighbour, St Michael's Mount. However the village has some lovely buildings of its own and I particularly liked the Bank

 

Marghasyewe (Cornish: "Thursday Market"). Marazion had formerly the right of returning two members to parliament, but owing to its inability to pay the members' expenses the right was lost. Marazion was not recorded in the Domesday Book of 1088.

Its original Cornish language name – literally, "the grey rock in a wood" – may represent a folk memory of a time before Mount's Bay was flooded (at about 1700 BCE according to radiocarbon dating) and remains of trees have been seen at low tides following storms on the beach at Perranuthnoe. In 1755 the Lisbon earthquake caused a tsunami to strike the Cornish coast over 1,000 miles (1,600 km) away. The sea rose six feet (2 m) in ten minutes at St Michael's Mount, ebbed at the same rate, and continued to rise and fall for five hours.

St Michaels Mount, linked to the shore by a man-made granite causeway covered at high tide, has been the home of the St Aubyn family since 1659 when it was bought by Colonel John St Aubyn whose descendants, the Lords St Levan, remain seated there. In 1954, the 3rd Baron St Levan gave most of St Michael's Mount to the National Trust, together with a large endowment fund. The St Aubyn family retained a 999-year lease to inhabit the castle. A short underground, funicular narrow gauge railway was built in Victorian times, used to bring luggage up to the house.

Historically, St Michael's Mount was a Cornish counterpart of Mont Saint-Michel in Normandy (with which it shares the same tidal island characteristics and the same conical shape), and it was given to the Benedictine religious order there by Edward the Confessor in the 11th century.  

This is believed to be the last part of Cornwall to speak Cornish as a community language. Dolly Pentreath, the last recorded fluent native Cornish speaker came from near here.

From Marazion it's a long hard slog along the sea wall to Penzance. Not scenic, except for railway enthusiasts (guess who) so really it's just good to have got it out of the way. Here's the best I could do, before the rain set in:

In fairness, in good weather Penzance is lovely and I have a soft spot for it. Karen and I stayed here once, on our way to the Scillies. Check out the Egyptian House if you get the chance

 You may recognise it from the opening sequence of antiques roadshow. It's owned by the Landmark Trust and you can stay there. It was built in the 1840s by John Lavin, minerologist and Egyptologist. Bonkers.

Penzance (the "holy headland") chose as its symbol the severed "holy head" of St John the Baptist – nice. In 1425, 1432 and 1440 ships in Penzance were licensed to carry pilgrims to the shrine of St James of Compostella, in north-west Spain.

Penzance and the surrounding villages have been sacked many times by foreign fleets. In 1595 a Spanish force of four galleys transporting 400 arquebusiers under Don Carlos de Amesquita, landed troops in Cornwall. They seized supplies, raided and burned Penzance and surrounding villages, held a mass, and sailed away. In medieval times and later, Penzance was subject to frequent raiding by "Turkish pirates", in fact Barbary Corsairs, and during the English Civil War Penzance was sacked by the Parliamentarian forces of Sir Thomas Fairfax

There's a Market House (replacing an earlier one in 1838) at the top of Market Jew Street. The name Market Jew comes from the Cornish Laguage Marghas Yow (orMarghasyewe), meaning Thursday Market, the name of a nearby village now absorbed into Marazion. In 1849 the town was lit by 121 gas lamps from October to March each year, although they were not lit when there was a full moon. The seawater Art Deco bathing pool was built in 1935 and will be heated geothermally.

This next bit's for any railway enthusiast reading (again, wonder who that could be?).

In the 1850s the Scilly Isles Steam Navigation Company was founded and the Penzance railway terminus was opened (by the West Cornwall Railway which operated a broader gauge than the eventual standard gauge and was bought by GWR in 1866). The station was described at the time as a large dog's house of the nastiest and draughtiest kind .The so-called “perishable” train allowed Cornish fresh fruit, fish, flowers and vegetables to access London markets and brought substantial prosperity (and tourists) to the town. In 1904 GWR’s new Cornish Riviera Express made the Paddington to Penzance journey in 7 hours – in 2007 it took 5 hours 5 minutes. I think it took Nic about the same.

Penzance generally is one of the most economically deprived areas of the UK, Penzance Central being 712^th most deprived (putting it in the top 10) and Penzance East having 15% unemployment. It'a part of the reason I have a soft spot for it.

Thandie Newton and Jean Shrimpton both lived here and among those born here were the cricketer Jack Richards (1986 Ashes-winning wicketkeeper), the mother of the Bronte sisters and Sir Humphry Davy, famous chemist, discoverer of laughing gas and inventor of the miners’ safety lamp. The son of a woodcarver he was clearly fearfully bright and by the tender age of 24 was already Professor of Chemistry at the Royal Institution. There is a statue of him in the main street.

So a quick 14 miles to start the week and slightly ahead of schedule. Our persistence paid off today and hopefully we won't be too stiff and sore tomorrow to carry on.

Peter 

Final leg, this trip: Kynance to Porthleven

So far, so good. Completed my plan on schedule and looking forward to a long hot bath and some squash before getting back on the trail next week with Nic. Today not quite as sunny but still glorious weather for seeing again some old favourite places and reliving some fun times. Full summary on Komoot here, as usual. The coastline is so spectacular I went a bit nuts with the photographs. Luckily for me, Komoot keeps track of where they are - I'd forget in a hearbeat.

So first, down to Kynance. I took the wimps route (no steps, for old dodderers like me and pushchairs) in case the direct route was block by the high tide. National Trust have done a great job here with their cafe and the beach is deservedly popular. Sadly you can't see the sandy bits properly until low tide but it's still lovely. Happy memories of here with Karen and my mother.

It's a stiff climb up to the cliff tops but from there on mostly level ground, not least because it runs alongside the Predannack airfield. Unused when I was last there but now used as a satellite airfield for Culdrose. My inner pilot approves. There are one or two steep clefts down to the beach, not least that to Soap Rock. The photo doesn't quite convey the steepness of the descent but hopefully you can get the idea:

 It is possible to get down to the beach here, Karen and I did before, but not today as the tide's in. 

The Soap referred to is soapstone which was extensively mined here between 1740 and 1820, from Kynance to Mullion, an area known as the Soaprock coast. Gew Graze ("Soap Cove") in particular produced white serpentine rocks but all of them when ground down into a paste were used in the production of soft paste porcelain (the Chinese variety was hard paste porcelain). Only porcelain was able to withstand boiling water so this discovery allowed Britain to compete with the Chinese imports at a time when tea drinking was rapidly increasing.

So this is a very important area for industrial history. I'd no idea until I started to investigate. There's an interesting web article on it here and there's even a book about it: Soaprock Coast, by 

Robert Felce.

From there the path soon arrives at Mullion, an extraordinarily neat harbour tucked into a small cove. The walls were built in the 1890s with financial help from Lord Robartes of Lanhydrock at the height of the pilchard boom but today it's owned and maintained by the National Trust.

Named after St Melanius the bishop of Rennes in 519, Mullion is the largest village on the Lizard but set high up away from the cliffs. The church of St Mellanus has a 13^th century door with dog flap (for sheepdogs) and one of the carved bench ends depicts Jonah and the whale. 

The Mullion hotel sits right on the cliff top. It was our sanctuary after our abortive campervan experimental weekend and our room had extraordinary views, particularly from the ensuite bathroom – a poo with a view, you might say. 

Stalin’s daughter, Svetlana Alleluyeva, lived in Mullion for a bit as did Sheila Tracy, a performer who started her career as a trombone player in a 50s all-female band.

Almost immediately after Mullion the path arrives at Poldhu (Black Pool), famous for the early experiments in radio communication by Guglielmo Marconi and there is now a monument on the clifftop on land granted to the National Trust by the Marconi company (RIP). This was the site of the first transatlantic radio message in 1901. What looks like a hotel nearby is actually a care home - I can think of worse places to go.

Just below this is Poldhu Cove:

Curiously, there's a post box right in the middle of the bridge:

A little further along the coast path is Gunwalloe – the first entry for Cornwall in Domesday. The church (of St Winwaloe) there dates in part from Norman times and is right next to the beach, indeed almost in it, at Church Cove.

Up onto the headland again and passing Halzephron (great little pub here) and Gunwaloe fishing cove, one of the few places to get down onto the beach before Porthleven. It's a spectacular beach but not safe for bathing because of the strong currents.

With Porthleven in sight, and ahead of schedule, I was entertaining thoughts of pressing on to Par Sands, to ease Nic's first day next week. I should have known better - a very large diversion because of storm damage to the cliffs added 2.5 miles to the journey and all for a closed section no more than 100 yards long (which I've walked before, for heaven's sake). You can get some idea of just how circuitous this was from the information board - the red line's the diversion.

Anyhow, enough whingeing. Finally made Porthleven. The most southerly port in Great Britain – many places here are the most-something-or-other – it is the home town of the Dambusters’ Guy Gibson and there is a plaque to commemorate him on the town hall.

The village faces the prevailing weather and needs its substantial stonework defences but the harbour was only started in 1811. Winter gales erupting over the massive sea walls are an arresting sight. An interesting building next to the pier and harbour entrance is the Bickford-Smith Institute with its 20m tower. It looks like a church but is currently a snooker club and has figured in episodes of Wycliffe. There is a large annual food fair (in April, wasted on me) and Rick Stein has a restaurant here.

Tregonning Hill can be seen from Porthleven – it’s an extinct volcano and the place that china clay was first discovered in Britain. The clay is a type of decomposed granite finer than talcum, itself the softest material on the Mohs scale of hardness. The large deposits in St Austell were the largest in the world in the early 1800s and by 1910 were producing 50% of the world supply. The clearly visible spoil heaps are known as the Cornish Alps.

Just west of the village is the Giant’s Quoit, a 50 ton rock of a type not found anywhere else in the United Kingdom. The latest theory is that it floated down on an iceberg from northern Europe. Investigation of that will have to wait until the next trip.

For now I was going to leave you with a picture of Porthleven, taken from the cafe while I waited for my taxi pick up back to the B&B. But it's not very good so instead here's some extreme recycling I found on the way down into the village:

Well, I enjoyed this trip and finding stuff to blog about, so I hope you did too because there's going to be more of it!

Until the 16th

Best wishes

Peter

Was a sunny day...

.. not a cloud was in the sky, not a negative word was heard from the people passing by. Thanks to Paul Simon; it just about sums up the mood today.
Beautiful sunny weather so when I made it to the Lizard in good time I thought not to waste it and carried on to Kynance. This picture doesn't do justice to how glorious the day was but it will have to do. You can find it and many more on Komoot as usual here.

A cloudy start in Coverack but the mist soon burned off for unforecast, much appreciated sunshine. The damage suffered by Coverack was underscored by path diversions where the cliff had collapsed during storm Emma (all the worst storms are women, according to the taxi driver. Other opinions available). Not long on the trail and I came upon a complete surprise - the path went directly through a sculpture park! Great fun, all the more so for being unheralded. Reminded me of Tout quarry on Portland (see earlier blog).

My favourite was this one but there are more on Komoot. It's all the work of Terence Coventry. He's been exhibiting for years in the Pangolin Gallery in London so he's probably well known to you aesthetes but not to this philistine.

He learned sculpture at Stourbridge Art school under Keith Leonard, one of Barbara Hepworth's studio assistants. Doesn't sound the closest of links to greatness but then the assistants probably do most of the work.

I like to think of this one as the chough, Cornwall's adopted mascot, though it should really have red legs and beak so it's probably a crow, really.

On to Black Head (Pustule Point, perhaps?) where there's a National Trust lookout with interesting information and a pair of binoculars. It would make a good refuge in a storm.

From there down to Kennack Sands. First visit to a beach for quite a while, and surprisingly hard walking on it! I had forgotten to bring my water bottle (doh) so the cafe here was a welcome pit stop.

Just beyond Kennack is Poltesco, an old serpentine mine and the start of our regular Xmas walks when my mother used to live near here. The Lizard Serpentine Company built a factory here in 1855 following considerable interest after Prince Albert's tour in 1846 (and subsequent orders for mantelpieces etc for Osborne House) and the great exhibition of 1851. As fashions changed it relaunched as the Poltesco Marble Company in 1870 but finally folded in 1893. Serpentine is actually a family of rocks with various colours and there is a shop in Lizard village where small carvings are sold.

On those Xmas walks we always went to Cadgwith, absolutely the favourite place of mine and Karen's. If you get the right night you'll find the Cadgwith Singers who will happily let you join in the singing in the Cadwith Cove pub, usually well known songs to lesser-known Cornish tunes. There's a promontory rock there called the Todden from where this photo was taken

and as it exactly matches an original painting that we were given as a wedding present, I imagine it's where the artist sat.

Cadgwith has always been a fishing village and still is. It was the subject of a BBC2 series The Fisherman's Apprentice, when the naturalist Monty Halls showcased the fishing industry and its travails. All the spider crab they catch is eaten by the French as the Brits don't like it, until the programme ran a blind tasting when they did. If you buy some you'll do them a favour.

From there past the Devil's Frying Pan, a collapsed cave, another landslip diversion and on to Church Cove. The lifeboat station here is in a truly epic position. As you can see, there's a vertiginous slope just to get down to the station itself and the actual launch ramp further down is one of those spectacular old fashioned ones

Rounding the next headland I'd thought I had the Lizard in sight but the path saves these tricks for the unwary. In fact it was Bass Point which has an interesting recent history. Despite local misgivings many coastguard stations were closed in 1992 to concentrate resources on regional centres. In 1994 a Cadgwith boat was lost with no witnesses, because the lookout here had closed, and following the outcry locals raised funds to re-open it. That was the start of the National Coastwatch Institution (watchword: eyes along the coast) of which I was briefly a watchman at the Lyme Bay hut. You can read more about their excellent work here.

Bass Point also has the Lloyd's Signal Station (a private home now) which was established in 1872 by shipping agents to communicate by semaphore (remember semaphore?) with ships, to tell them market conditions and where their owners wanted them to dock. Something like this is still used in Japan to mark traffic conditions and one-way flows.

Finally then, to the Lizard (Lys Ardh – high court).

The most southerly point in Britain, vying for bragging rights with Land’s End (most westerly) and Cape Cornwall (where the tidal streams meet) and famous for the local colourful serpentine stone. It’s one of my favourite places in Cornwall with dramatic views and an ever-open café. This used to be run, inevitably perhaps, by Liz, now retired.

There has been a lighthouse here since 1751 but there have still been significant wrecks. The biggest rescue in the RNLI’s history occurred in 1907 when crews from Cadgwith, Coverack, and Porthleven rowed (yes, rowed) out for 16 hours in fog and a strong gale to rescue 456 passengers off the SS Suevic which had hit the nearby Maenheere reef. Muy hombres.

The Cornish rebellion started near here at St Keverne in 1497, led by the village blacksmith, Michael Joseph. It didn’t end well. In 1791 titanium was discovered here and in 1870 one of the first undersea telegraph cables came ashore near here, at Porthcurno. Marconi had his wireless station at Poldhu cove and received the first transatlantic radio communication from St John’s Newfoundland in 1901. RAF drytree (a joke, surely) from WWII was chosen for the Telstar project in 1962 and became the Goonhilly Earth Satellite Station.

6.5 sq miles of the Lizard is a nature reserve and there are three SSSIs here. It is also home to the Chough, Cornwall’s emblematic bird – a corvid with red legs and beak.

The Jennifer McQuiston novel The Spinster's Guide to Scandalous Behavior is set in the fictional nineteenth century village Lizard Bay.

As you can (just about) see, there is some competition to be the most southerly cafe in Britain:

From here I pressed on to Kynance but only as far as the car park, for my taxi pick up, so photos of the Cove await tomorrow's blog. However it was such a perfect day that I couldn't resist taking a few more of this section. Note the old lifeboat station below the Lizard (in the last photo), moved to the more sheltered position you saw in Church Cove earlier.

Tomorrow hopefully I'll make Porthleven and the end of this leg of the trip, before coming back on the 15th with Nic. (Wonder if he's in training - usually not). 

If the day's half as good as today I'll be a very happy camper.

Peter 

Helford to Coverack

MILESTONES!

1. Just over half way
2. Passed 50,000 ft ascent 
3. Half marathon today (more or less)

Wonderful, the end is now closer than the beginning. In a spirit of optimism I'll try to stop talking about mud now, too 😀 (consomme today, just saying). Soft start, sunny finish and a quick preview of the Lizard. Komoot summary here. The plan was a 13.1 mile section to Coverack (hence the half marathon reference) and although I stole a march by taking the ferry across Gillan Creek, the path got its own back on Lowland Point.

First up, a shout out for my Dorset beekeeping neighbours Ian & Ruth who interrupted their own Cornwall sojourn to drive over and take me out for dinner - thanks both. Second, I missed two important events yesterday. I am now officially walking in West Cornwall and I passed the cumulative ascent of 50,000 ft (as of end today it's up to 52,500). By the time Nic joins me in a week or so I should have made it to 58,000 which is all the way from sea level to the top of Everest and back again. Gotta get my bragging rights in some time....

So, a soft day as they say in Ireland. Which means wet again but only overnight so a lovely calm start to the day as I set off from where the Helford ferry would have brought me last night.

I've never walked this section before so it was a treat to see it for the first time and the two inlets, Helford estuary and Gillan Creek, were quite eerie in the early morning. I startled a few eider ducks and a couple of squirrels as I meandered through the woodland path of the Boshan Estate. A skein of geese and a wedge of  swans, too.

Gillan means creek in Cornish so it's a bit of a tautology but I'll forgive it. The guide says the official path goes round the end of the creek but I liked the look of the ferry. There are stepping stones here instead of the ferry for low water but described as awkward and slippery. The ferry looked deserted so I thought I'd just admire the view for a bit and text Jess' Steve happy birthday, when the ferryman appeared. Best £5 I've spent since tea at the Nare hotel. Gillan suffered badly in Storm Emma which was the worst for them in 100 years, as the winds came from the East. They're sheltered from the more usual south-westerly gales. A lot of the damage is still visible.

Leaving Gillan having shaved about 1.8 miles off today's plan (conscience told to be quiet: I've done the Portland section 3 times) there is a long wooded section with a diversion round a cliff fall before reaching open fields and a view out to Nare Point. There's a National Coastwatch post here with a view across Falmouth bay to St Anthony Head and the Fraggle Rock lighthouse but the day was a bit too gray to do it justice.

The station, like so many, is old MOD and was used until the 90s to observe and calibrate air-to-sea torpedoes. There were also lighting deceptions carried out here by the Navy and Elstree studios, similar to those on the other side of the bay.

From there it's a pleasant walk on the open country above the cliffs until dropping down to Porthallow (port at the end of the moor). It was owned by Beaulieu abbey in the 13th century and later the Trelowarren estate and was another major fishing centre for pilchards. Following rowdy all night parties, diving was banned in the 70s when locals bought and ran the beach and it's still run by trustees from the village. Diving moved to Polkerris, just up the coast, which is a popular base to explore the Manacles reef for old wrecks.

Of course the most important thing is it's the half way mark for the SWCP so I inveigled a passer by into taking my picture there.

A celebration oat cake and a banana (I tell ya, life in the fast lane) and then on to Porthoustock. This used to be a major port for the local stone quarries which provided much of the stone for local airfields in WW2. There is a large stone crushing concrete mill, now disused, and a jetty that can take ships up to 270ft long.

On past Porthoustock, the path used to go seaward of the quarry there, with suitable arrangements to avoid blasting the walkers, but recent storms have required a long road diversion, so the path got me back a bit for my cheating at Gillan. I passed through a couple of fields of daffodils, ready for market. These used to be a major earner for Cornwall as they come into season earlier here but air freight has brought increased competition.

When the path gets back to the coast it's at Lowland Point. It's a very unusual sight for Cornwall where I'm more used to high cliffs and long beaches, to see a low level, marshy, boulder strewn landscape. A bit like the east side of Portland.

The diversion cuts off the information board that explains more about the general area which is now an SSRI. There's been activity here since 2,500 BCE and remains have been found of a 2nd century salt works. It is one of the few areas to provide Gabbro, a particularly hard rock used for roads and coastal rock armour, also found in the Cuillin range on Skye and the Appenines in Italy.

I have Coverack in sight now for a last easy section to the finish but the path, as ever, has other ideas. The land here is so marshy and boulder-y that it requires very careful navigation and I was again grateful for the poles. My normal walking pace (according to Komoot) is about 2.5 mph but on this section it was down to 1 so it took a while to make it to Coverack.

A fishing village with a large sandy beach, it was the site of a devastating flash flood in July 2017, now largely restored but on the way in I could still see some remaining damage where the water had undercut the foundations. 

The danger came not as usual from the sea but from heavy rainfall and hailstones the size of 50p pieces. There was a lot of press coverage at the time and the local council were very quick to reapair roads etc but ironically South West Water later dug them up again to lay new mains. You could't make it up. Sadly for the village it again suffered during Emma and lost a section of the car park above the harbour. I made a point of buying supplies from the local store, in solidarity. Looking across from the harbour, it seems to be thriving again but I was told that the main hotel has only just re-opened.

After the Mohegan steamship was wrecked on the nearby Manacles rocks in 1898, with 106 drowned, a lifeboat was established here and the old station remains, just above the harbour.

The weather by now had cheered up a lot so I made the trip down to the Lizard, for old times sake. Too late for the cafe we liked but a glorious evening anyway and views to remind me why this is still one of my favourite sites.

Two days to go and I hope to make it to Porthleven. There's a food festival there later this month -wasted on me but I should be out of there just in time. I'm conscious that there's still a huge amount to do but beginning to feel, not confident exactly, but that I'm making good progress and it's becoming a little less daunting.

If you are, thanks for reading and feedback.

More blogging tomorrow.

Peter