Sunday 20th September: St Keverne
All photos of the day.
How good is a day off? Pretty fucking awesome! Slept in, had clothes washed and dried for us (OMG, SO GOOD), didn't wear boots or socks all day, didn't pack our bags up, didn't go outside until after 10am . . . WONDERFUL! The weather was sunny as we strolled into the village to the sound of church bells.
We bought the essentials: Roskilly's fudge and a razor for J (the first one he's ever bought himself!) because he was looking scruffy.
Our book showed us a bit of the area so we followed a footpath out of the village and to the farm and creamery where all the Roskilly's icecream is made. That's local for you! There was a demonstration of icecream making later in the afternoon, so we toddled back to the B&B via the Ponds – a countryside stewardship area, and very beautiful.
The walk turned out a bit longer than expected as we got a bit lost (well, we didn't get to a gate out for a while, and when we did it was into someone's paddock!), but we had fun. We saw an old waterwheel (what a wheel!), had a very friendly moorhen come right up to say hello, and stomped on some apples. STOMPITY STOMP.
Then we went back to see the icecream demo, had a nice chat to the person doing it (it was her last day, so we got icecream with extra treats in it, shhhh!), ate delicious lunch, then got ENORMOUS 3 SCOOP ICECREAMS and nommed them in the afternoon sunshine all the way back home.
We patted the cat and the rickety dog, retired to our room and watched the repeat of Merlin from the night before (wow, I don't think I needed to see that much of Bradley James' chest, oh well). IT WAS A GENIUS DAY.
Monday 21st September: St Keverne to Helford
Give us this day our daily photos
Today was meant to be a pretty easy day, and it's true that it was easier than much of the previous week (although we walked about 15km, the distance between B&Bs must have only been about 6km by road). We followed secluded inland footpaths to Porthallow (Pralla), where we saw a dead badger on the road – it's sad for me, because that's the first badger I've ever seen.
From Porthallow, the route was diverted straight back inland due to a cliff fall, following footpaths and byways through fields, past crops and pastures. We joined the coast halfway to the Gillan Creek crossing, and it was really nice to have a day doing less sea-coast walking (variety is good! There is only so many times you can look at another headland or cove and say “Wow! Stunning!”)
We got to the creek an hour or so before low tide, so we sat with a German walker (Hannah) and watched the tide rush out. A woman on horseback with dog in tow showed us the stepping stones and recommended we paddle the creek downstream instead. After watching her ford the creek there, we decided to follow her advice, taking off our boots and hanging them around our necks, rolling up our leggings, donning our sandals/thongs, and wading in. The tide was going out fast! J almost lost his thong a few times, and the sand on the opposite side was very sucky and squidgy, but we made it! It was so much fun!!!
After hosing ourselves down, re-booting and saying goodbye to H, we had a quick look in the church and then headed up to the point (Dennis Head or Little Dennis?) between Gillan Creek and Helford. We had a chat to an old couple (with enviously huge mugs of tea) about the headlands we could see in the distance – perhaps we could see all the way to Rame Head, which we will pass on our last day!
We also passed a field with a lot of corn in it. In fact, it was a wall of corn, and some of you may be interested to know that it was this field that gave Cornwall its name.
The walk to Helford was quite nice, through woodlands and small valleys, with glimpses of the estuary through the trees. We stopped at Down by the River Cafe, where we posted our last entry! Highly recommended, as the scones were good and D had the best pasty of the trip so far!
From there, we walked into the village and then out through a lovely wooded valley and some fields to Landrivick Farm, where Linda greeted us with tea and cupcakes!
Soon after we arrived, two walkers we'd met at the Copper Kettle in Porthleven rocked up. Linda booked us all a table at the Manaccan pub, we wandered down there in the evening for a nice meal and a chat, and got picked up in the car and driven home. . . It was the first time we'd been in a car since we'd left London. I soon had to ask Linda to drive me back down, though, because I'd left my jumper behind. How embarrassment! On the way down, Linda talked about how much she enjoys farming, and told me her dad always said, “A contented mind is a continual feast”. I like that.
Tuesday 22nd September: Manaccan/Helford to Falmouth
Pictorial proof
After a breakfast of fresh farm produce (and local pork sausages that D still thinks are the best of the holiday), we wandered down into Helford. Here we got to call the ferry over by opening up the board so a big orange circle could be seen from the other side of the river. We ate a carrot as we waited for the boat to chug across, and were serenaded by a friendly little robin in the bushes behind us. The ferryman told us we were the first passengers of the day (“It's mainly walkers at this hour”), and answered our joking question about catching a lift to Falmouth with a wistful, “I wish!”
On the other side we passed a couple of lovely gardens and estates, and a few more houses for our growing collection of wish-list properties. We walked very, very far. But then we realised we'd only come about half as far as we'd thought. There is nothing more disheartening to a flagging walker who wishes they could be having another day off, let me tell you!
But we eventually made it to Rosemullion head, with its view of the Fal estuary, and ate a chocolate bar in the sunshine, watching a tiny little boat scamper between the enormous ships looming in the bay. We decided that this point should have a sculpture of us/two walkers resting on their backpacks enjoying the scenery. Any takers? I got to enjoy this view a second time when, about half a km further along the walk I realised I'd left the camera behind, and had to dump my bag with D and run back to get it. I almost felt fit for a moment there!
At Maenporth we limped across the carpark to Life's a Beach cafe, and drank the best hot chocolate I've had since those ones in Amsterdam (ahem). They were sweet and very hot and topped with: a mountain of whipped cream studded with marshmallows (D ate all the ones from mine that hadn't already melted), drizzled with a caramel topping and 'dusted' with a thick layer of chocolate sprinkles. GENIUS. We followed them with chips and burgers and felt very healthy.
We pointedly ignored the bus stop and started the final leg to Falmouth. It was lucky we didn't catch the bus, because a few minutes later we saw a TEENY TINY VOLE!!! It scurried right up to D's boot and then on its busy way along the footpath and into the undergrowth. SO CUTE!
you can just see its tail!
Eventually we made it to Swanpool, a kind of outer suburb of Falmouth, and decided to postpone the walk right around the head until after we'd checked in, showered and changed, because our legs and feet and minds were pretty tired. Upon leaving the B&B (The Observatory), we hobbled down the main road towards Pendennis Castle (unfortunately we were there just on closing time, so no admittance) and around the headland, thus completing the days walk.
We did so in shorts and thongs/sandals, and forgot our raincoats, so of course we got wet . . . but it wasn't really rain, it was more of a fine mist that floated around attaching itself to the hairs on your arms and not making you damp until you tried to brush it off.
For dinner we stumbled across Citrus Cafe, with a specials board full of vegetarian options!!! We stuffed ourselves with vegetarian goodness and looked out over the harbour as a flock of white triangled sailing boats went out and came back across the grey, misty harbour. It was pretty special, even after we noticed the unobtrusive rack of Watchtower magazines in the corner. “Please take one”, it said. We didn't.
That night we had glow in the dark stars on the ceiling, and a loud circus across the road. I made up a rhyme: Poor little Jonathan, so put-upon-athan! This rhyme has served us well.
Wednesday 23rd September: Falmouth to Portloe
All photos of the day
This was really the start of the second half of our walk. We began the day by symbolically posting the first guidebook back to London (along with a novel and some bits and pieces collected along the way), then wandering down to the pier and catching a ferry across the broad Fal River (no need to summon the ferry here, it runs every half an hour!) past St Mawes Castle (in the shape of a clover leaf), running around the tiny pier at St Mawes and catching the littlest ferry yet to Place.
Once there we had a nice long look around St Anthony's church (“the finest example of what a parish church might have looked like in the 12th century”) and then cutting off the first, hard looking mile of the walk by taking a series of other footpaths across country. We are no longer concerned with “cheating”, apparently!
There were a couple of other walkers on both ferries, and they finally deigned to talk to us when we were on the second leg. Mind you, there was plenty of other stuff going on during the first ride to keep us occupied – first D lost the stylus for his phone (we considered it a donation to the gods of Fal for a safe journey) and then there was some chef talking to the ferryman about the ferryman's brother in law who was also a chef . . . the cheffing world seems very small and name-droppy. Anyway, we totally beat the very serious, serious, SERIOUS walkers into Portloe. Kind of. Yay for shortcuts!
It was quite easy walking the first half of the day, and despite the very light drizzle and J taking a dive on the slippery rocks in Portscatho, it was quite enjoyable. The second guidebook is shaping up to be much more appealing than the first as it uses words such as “beguiling” - although it did fall into the “unspoilt” trap when describing Portloe!
Beguiling?
We met some people before lunch who were gathering blackberries and what they called Cornish Sorrel, a green leaf that is good in salads or lightly steamed, which has a sour, citrus-y flavour.
We picked a few leaves of our own as we walked down into Paradoe (pron. Prada) Cove (or Tregagle's Hole on the OS map), and we added them to our packed sandwiches as we rested in the remains of an old fisherman's cottage. Lovely.
Not so lovely was the following climb onto Nare Head, although once there the next leg of our walk opened up before us, bathed in sunshine. Behind us, we could see TWO sets of hills – I'd almost forgotten that more of England exists than the coast and its immediate surrounds! Unfortunately, there were a few more climbs that really took it out of us, but we stopped again for tea (and so D could rub J's sore, purple feet) to break the journey.
The one on the right has been rubbed back to life...
A continuously surprised-looking partridge led us into Portloe (“Humans! I shall escape them along this secret footpath! Ah-ha! I've foiled them by going around the corner! OMG! HUMANS! How did they get here onto this footpath? I'd better run away!”).
We dearly wished that the accommodation in town had not been booked out for months and months and months as we followed a few footpaths and laneways to where our B&B, Jago Cottage, was meant to be (according to Google Maps). It wasn't there, but when we knocked on a random door, the occupants helpfully pointed us a couple of hundred metres up the road. There, the host's children let us in (“Mum's just out at the moment!”) and we collapsed – too tired to even contemplate going anywhere for dinner.
Oh noes! J's purple feet!
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