When I Was Going to St Ives...

Day Eighteen - Hayle to St Ives 10.8km (6.7 miles).
Time on route 3:20hrs, walking time 3:00hrs.

Sunday 10 May 2015

After my long walk yesterday it was a late start and a pleasant stroll from Hayle to St Ives.

I walked through the town of Hayle smiling at this little fella.

And the furry benchmark on the bridge strut.


I got a little lost on Carnsew Road.

No doubt distracted by cannon and boundary stones.

A redevelopment has blocked the coastpath  which, in itself, is fine.  But the diversion signs are only clear for those walking from the west.  I had to double back and make up a bit of route (involving a cut across a small field and a hop over a hedge) before rendezvousing with it again.

It was a lovely walk around the Hayle Estuary with its mud flats and birds.  A twitchers paradise for sure.  Heading north up the west side of the estuary this sign amused me.

It was another wonderful day and the spring flowers were heavenly.

St Michael's Church is perched up on the hill overlooking the estuary and with views of the Godrevy Lighthouse. This is near the start of St Michael's Way, a 19 km walk down to St Michael's Mount. I'll do this too one day.

The walk to Carbis Bay is back in towans alongside the railway.

The dunes were easier to navigate and shorter than yesterday and it didn't take long for Carbis Bay to appear.

Followed afterwards by a wonderful view of St Ives.

St Ives is a quaint, beautiful and touristy (the latter a consequence of the former) town: the last main staging post on the north coast of Cornwall. It has heaps of holiday homes such as this one. However I did wonder at the accuracy of their geographic coordinates...

I thought perhaps a passing geodesist had scraped off a digit for a laugh. But, no, it really looks like a genuine error.

Lovely alleyways.

And independent shops.

So that's the touristy north Cornwall part done.  The next few legs will be a lot more remote, which I'm really looking forward to.  And then I round the Lands End over development and in a few more walks I'll be heading east.  Golly - it's still a long way to go... 

Seals and Slogging On

Day Seventeen - St Agnes to Hayle 32.5km (20.2 miles).
Time on route 8:35hrs, walking time 8:10hrs.

Saturday 09 May 2015

Today was a wonderfully long day.  I'd driven to Hayle the previous evening and caught the train/bus to St Agnes first thing on Saturday.  This meant I was on the path for 0915 which I needed as I had a long walk ahead back to Hayle.

St Agnes is just as quaint and pretty the second time round.

A call booth with a view?

Just as I climbed out of the bay I heard signing - a deep, male voice, resonant and sonorous.  It was coming from a small boat heading out of the cove.  What wonderful freedom this man had - just to throw back his head and sing his heart out on the sea.

And continued evidence of the mining activity of this region.

My first major landmark was Wheal Coates.


Before I dropped down Chapel Porth, one of the many beautiful coves on the path.

I stopped for a drink in Porthtowan wondering if I'd bitten off more than I could chew for the day.  I didn't seem to be making decent headway and the 20km+ ahead of me felt somewhat daunting.  I then remembered the kids on Dartmoor for the Ten Tors event and stopped pitying myself.  After all even the youngest kids were managing 35 miles in two days: 30km for me in one is nothing.  [Sorry - lots of unit swapping there].

The path flattened out and I was able to increase my speed.

I pretty much marched straight through Portreath.  A fellow walker had advised me of a wonderful tea shop there from where he'd just come, but I didn't want to let up my pace just yet.

A really interesting harbour layout.

Friends. On the other side of the fence. Happy days.

I eventually cut myself some slack and sat in the sun at Hell's Mouth to munch lunch.

Next was a trig bag, the Knavocks.  It is basically a trig with a stone coat: a tubby trig.

My new animal for the day was seal.  The grey seals use the caves around Kynance Cove to breed. They are usually there from October to April so I was fortunate to see a few sunning themselves this late in the season.


I rounded Godrevy Point with its lighthouse.

And turning the corner I saw my first view of St Ives Bay and its long, long beach.

It was a long slog down the towans (Cornish for sand dunes) behind the beach. The path was indistinctly marked so I frequently found myself making up my route and then seeing a marker 50m away from my path. The dunes went on for what seemed like forever. It was actually around 90 mins but after you've seen one dune, you've seen them all. And even when you near Hayle you are still in the towans.

You can imagine my relief when the Hayle Estuary came into sight and I came off the path just after an old swing bridge over a small river.

I stayed in Hayle that night again and as I was walking to my B&B spotted what looked like a very odd extension. Or rather, was the temple built first and then the row of terraces constructed behind it? Who knows.

And Wear Something Red

Day Sixteen - Newquay to St Agnes 22.1km (13.7 miles).
Time on route 5:45hrs, walking time 5:20hrs.

Saturday 02 May 2015

I really needed a walk today.   A very dear long standing colleague and friend died suddenly last Friday and I wanted some time on the path to reflect.  The weather was a bit shabby but I figured that wind and rain would suit my mood.

I parked up in Newquay and picked up the path by Fistral Beach.  It was a wet and windy morning and the dog walkers were lone figures out on the sand.

Crossing the Gannel requires planning as the tidal state affects one's route.  Fortunately the tide was low and I was able to use the official route across the tidal bridge.


Yup - low tide.

You cross the Gannel and head up Penpol Creek for another bridge.

Walking the coast path in the Spring is a botanists delight.  There are simply carpets of primula, bluebells and other flowers whose names I really should learn (should have paid more attention to my Mum when I was younger).

The daisies weren't particularly keen to come out in the drizzle. I know how they feel.

I was most impressed by the garden opposite - that's some mighty terracing.

Unlike my last walk when I had the sun loving creatures as accompany, today I had the rain fan club out in force.  This means I basically saw lots of slugs and snails.


After a couple hours of being blasted by the wind and drizzled on by the rain, I stopped at St Pirans Inn, Holywell.  I sat on their lovely sofa with a warming coffee and decided to take a selfie.

It was only after checking the photo that I realised I was sitting in front of one of my heros - Shackleton.  This is a shot of Adams, Wild and Shackleton 178km from the South Pole.  And there I was complaining about feeling a bit nippy...

When you climb out of Holywell you pass a MOD firing range.  These antenna were arranged in a cross: quite beautiful actually.  Perhaps they could enter for the Turner prize?

There are plenty of warnings about unexploded ammunition, dangerous cliff edges and mine shafts.

And not to mention an old friend of mine.  So it really was an adder I saw last time.

More amazing geology.

I walked behind the dunes down Penhale Sands.  I know you can walk on the beach but the official route is up on the cliff and I am a bit of a stickler for following my rules.

What a mess some people leave behind: who on earth do they think is going to tidy their rubbish up?

I stopped for a late lunch at Perranporth eating my sandwiches on a bench overlooking the sea (the best way to dine) then climbed back out of the village passing a lovely sundial. Now where did I put that sun?

Passing the Youth Hotel I saw a familiar sight for a Cornish washing line.

The stretch between Perranporth and St Agnes has much evidence of mining activity.  The old shafts have mesh covers to allow the bats who now inhabit them access (whilst keeping others from falling in them).

At times it was pretty barren. I loved the colour of the stone here.

You can see the chimneys of the mines up the valley in Cross Combe.  The arty monochrome is totally unintentional and is a consequence of me knocking the dial as I extracted the camera from my pocket.

Cross Combe is the home of the Motorcycle Club.

The rain, which had eased for a few hours, came back and the southerly wind was a bit of a bore as I pushed on to Trevanance Cove.  But at least I turned my world back to colour.

I left the path here and headed to St Agnes for the bus home.  A beautiful blue bell wood accompanied me on my haul up to the bus stop.

And why the blog title?  I thought about my friend Ken a lot today, as I knew I would.  I met his wife earlier this week and we were reminiscing, swapping wonderful memories.  I asked about the funeral and the dress code.  "Oh, smart," she said "but wear something red.  Ken loved red."  And as I dressed this morning in my usual walking gear I noticed that my base layer, mid layer and waterproof were all in Ken's favourite colour.  What a special thought for the day.