Day 6- Treyarnon to Port Gaverne

Today was supposed to be a half day. A nice ten mile stroll to Padstow, along the Camel trail up the estuary to Wadebridge. Most of it should be flat with pretty views and a nice town at the end. However my planning let me down. While planning I'd been undecided whether I would catch a ferry across the estuary or walk around to the bridge. I'd therefore settled on a campsite five miles off trail and away from Wadebridge. Since then I'd forgotten my indecision and simply shoved the campsite details under Wadebridge and assumed they were in the town.

Camel River

  The first part of the day was simple enough, except for forgetting my hiking poles in the camp and having to walk ten minutes back to grab them.  I crossed another golf course and wondered down a few paths before Padstow. I'd started so early my plans for breakfast in Padstow were soon abandoned, reaching its center at about nine with few places open on a Sunday. I headed straight down the Camel trail encircling the estuary towards Wadebridge. Its a cycling route, perfectly flat and easy if dull walking. I day dreamed to Beethoven and smiled as passing joggers and cyclists. It was only half way through that I realized I'd cycled this path myself on a family holiday six or seven years ago. I'd ridden the entire route in a state of tension, waiting for my brother to ring up with my A level results.

Looking down towards Port Gaverne

  I reached Wadebridge at 9:50 and looked around for somewhere to eat before meandering to my campsite. Still no signal on my phone so I didn't have  anyway to know where precisely the campsite was. Once fed I found Internet and had a look. This is when I discovered my error. I could either walk five to ten miles the wrong direction or charge ahead and hope to find somewhere on the way. Tintagel seemed to be the only next stop with camping 17 miles away. If I reached it I would have walked a 27 mile day, the idea was daunting and as I left Wadebridge I hope the fates would show mercy and give me someone to pitch before hand.
  Starting to walk again once you've told your body your done for the day is hard, everything aches and feels heavy. It takes another hour to warm it up. That said the walking was simple enough if long winded. I kept to the roads more and more. The paths in this place seem to go through farms which make it their business to confuse and injure walkers.
  As I climbed over the final hill and saw the sea again it was a relief. I was tired and getting more and more worried over walking yet another eight miles to Tintagel. On the path down to the coast I slipped and pulled my arm badly as I tried to support my weight on the hiking poles. I sat for quite some time trying to work out how bad it was. Shuffling to my feet I realised I could take very little weight on my arm or raise it but it didn't affect my walking.  As far as I could tell it was a pulled muscle not a broken bone. Blinking away tears I shuffled onwards, and saw a caravan site tucked into Port Gaverne below. I decided to go and beg admittance. A sign at the entrance proclaimed 'campers welcome' ending my fears and I dropped my things in relief. Its a wonderful small hippy place I liked instantly, not on google maps, with good showers and facilities. The fields overgrown and steep but the family was away and . For £5 it was a  God send.
  Once set up, showered, and numbed by painkillers my arm seemed okay if delicate. I popped down to the rather wonderful Port Gaverne Hotel and had dinner chips and a shandy. Four walkers came in, having just started walking, and fanned my ego with shock at my millage. They were a nice bunch but more social walkers after a few days hanging out more than attacking a challenge. Looked fun but I still took myself to bed my nine so if be up and ready for the next day.

Day 5- Holywell to Treyarnon 18 miles

  I woke at five and conceived a cunning plan. For the last five days I'd packed up my tent covered in either rain or condensation. This morning I'd take the top off and hang it to dry while packing up the rest of my things. The clouds didn't deter me since they'd held off during the night. I peeled the top off and began to pack. What a mistake... the rain was obviously waiting for me. It took me two hours to pack my things. It would have taken me less but the heavens had decided to fall. By the time the tent was shoved in the bag it was a very long way from dry.
  I lifted the backpack onto my shoulders and the rain stopped, the sun came out and skies cleared. This did not improve my mood. Grumbling and thoroughly put out I began the walk. I crossed over Holywell Bay Campsite, and a few field paths inland to Newquay. Here I found a lovely hippy style cafe where I bought a bacon sandwich and cup of tea for £3.  Sat outside enjoying the sun I discovered my water proof boots were not exactly waterproof. It turns out a wet field is enough to leave them dripping. Since they were giving me blisters I decided to try wearing my sandals for the actual walk. Worried for my ankles I'd not tried them till now for any actual walking. It was an incredible discovery. My feet stopped aching. They didn't get damp so the soles didn't soften, and the occasional puddles are refreshing, even the mud seemed to cool them off pleasantly.

Looking back at Newquay

Newquay fading into the horizon

  Once I got my rhythm back and finally escaped the towns perimeters I enjoyed easy high cliff tops all the way to Treyarnon. It must have been one of the prettier days so far, if slightly crowded with Saturday walkers. Nearer Treyarnon I past five groups of Duke of Edinburgh students, all bent studiously over their maps, but few other hikers.

  Treyarnon Campsite was rather pricey at £8, and nearly half a bloody mile in length, but it had its good points- power sockets been one of them. I ended up washing my clothes in the shower and drying them in the laundry room.  While I waited for the machine to complete its cycle I hung around watching Castaway on my phone. Tom Hanks seemed to be having a much harder time than me and I, once the washing was complete and I retired,  enjoyed it throughout curled up in my sleeping bag.

Day 4- Elm Campsite to Holywell 16 miles

  A good day today, started out about half six and enjoyed a considerably quicker pace than before. The first mile or so is on roads, no pavement and on sections quite narrow. Once on the coast, however, it was back to the countryside and my novel (both earphones in). I woke expecting rain and dressed in all my rain gear, wrapping my backpack and pulling on my rain trousers. Yet, as normal, fears were not realised and no rain came. Showers overnight and a few light sprays here and there but that's it. The wind was weaker and the temperature was perfect for walking, though the sky looked bleak.

  My original destination today was Perranporth but since I'd made such good progress yesterday I checked online and set my sites on Holywell instead, a few miles further down the beach. I joined the coastal path at Porthtowan and was greeted with a nice steap climb to Wheal Charlotte Moor Tip before decending down soon after into Chapel Cove. I'm still not good at the climbs but they are affecting me less afterwards. I do feel my fitness growing and leaving camp so early gives me so much time to play with.

Tubby's Head

  The path was easy walking in the end with pleasant sites and I reached Perranporth with aching legs and back but relatively fresh legs. Perranporth is a seaside town aimed to attract tourists, something which almost the entirety of Cornwall seems to be, and stands a little empty without the summer hords. I was tempted by a greasy spoons but shied away since there was little space for me and my bag. I ended up wondering round for too long and giving up, settling for a ice scream parlour with lots of plug sockets. My iPod had run out of power and the characters were in a tight spot. I wanted to know what was going to happen to them.

Perran Beach  from Logger Point

  The next stretch is two or so miles along Perran Beach and up into the hills around a military training base. Along this beach I met the first long distance female hiker walking by herself. I like her immediately for that alone. We had a quick talk and parted ways.
  Confusion at the campsite as reception was closed and there was no signal for the phone. I think I had the wrong site completely as when she turned up she informed that camping hadn't opened yet. She saw the dismay in my face and took mercy, letting my stay for £3 and use the public toilets round the corner.

  Once set up I took myself to the first pub I'd seen in the town, St Piran's Inn, which was fine but cast quickly into shade when I moved on to Treguth Inn, which had so much more character and  (even better at times) Wi-Fi.

Day 3 - St Ives to Elm Farm 20 miles

St Ives in the early morning sun from Ayr campsite

 Knowing I didn't really fancy wild camping tonight I decided to forge on past my original destination, Portreath, and camp at Elm Farm Campsite nearer Redruth instead. This would mean that the day might be closer 20 miles that 17. That in mind I woke at 5:30, leaving camp at 7.

Looking back towards St Ives on Porthminster Beach

  The guide book described this section as ugly, and I daresay it's far from glorious but I was loving it. With cement or dirt paths underfoot I was chopping away the miles with no effort at all. I reached Hayle by half nine, six miles already done.
  From there I forged further inland, forced to walk on a lot of roads but enjoying the ease of it for a day. Then over the fields along the Red River Valley Nature Reserve and through Tehidy woods. Both were pleasant walks if unspectacular.
  I decided it was time for a change in author and turned on a Lee Child's novel, never having tried him before. Quickly engrossed I happily marched the next three or do hours away till a reached Elm Campsite.

Elm Farm campsite

  Elm campsite is a gem ran by a cheerful looking couple who also rent out bikes. It's an eco campsite with composting loos. No cars, showers in outdoors sheds and a flat sheltered lawn. I think it's fabulous.
  Today was forgettable in many ways but I'm starting to feel strong and relax more into the walk. Things are aching but less than I thought they would. I'll head back to the coast tomorrow but will be less afraid of finding alternatively routes along the way.

Day 2 Pendeen to St Ives

  I woke up at sixish and I was ready to go by seven fifteen. The wind was still fierce but manageable, my wonderful tent had survived the night. I suspect at some point on this trip it will break or tear, it'll  be like losing a friend.

Cliff edge near Zennor Head

  Made my way across the fields back to the shore line, my heart already sinking as I could see my path descending to the sea before crossing a steam and going straight back up. Still with the eagerness of someone only on her second day I marched on. The climb left be gasping, I'm just not fit enough for them and I was forced to stop a number of times, pretending to enjoy the view and watching out for any other hikers who might shame me.

  The weather was forever changing as rain clouds were blown through, after the downfall the sun and wind drying everything quickly. The more tired I got the more the wind became a nuisance , knocking me off balance continually. If nothing else the day showed just how ridiculous people that climb Everest and the Eiga are.
  Anyway back to the complaining. The entire day consists of descending into galleys and the climbing out. Great views but hard terrain and no change to get a rhythm. I was comforted to discover that the guide book considers this section one of the toughest of the Southwest Coastal Path, so maybe I'm not such a wimp after all.

 I did enjoy some of the views, although usually the ones across a short flat patch, mainly I found it all frustrating. The Pennine Way has hard climbs, larger than today's but after an hour or two of hard walking your on top, so you take your medicine and soldier down. There's none of this up down up down up down thing. Bloody nature.
  It took nearly then hours to get to St Ives, my walking pace mostly 3km an hour. There was one section where I felt completely stuck. Massive boulders blocked the track. Without a backpack it might have been fun but while carrying 19 KG it was no picnic.
    I ducked gratefully inland at River Cover and walked the last three or four miles across the fields. It was wonderful. I suddenly found I could walk again. My legs felt like led while climbing but on the flat they were fine. I past Trevalgan touring park (who'd kindly offered me a free pitch in support of the charity) and walked on to Ayr Campsite. This one is a lot closer to the town,  overlooking the harbor about fifteen minutes from the center.
  It's a wonderful campsite. Special area for backpackers, great shower rooms and toilets and cafe with a pool and lounging rooms. Everything is cared for and warm. The staff were friendly and even the wind couldn't stop it from been a very cosy night.

Ayr Campsite looking over St Ives 

  Popped into the town to buy a few snacks for tomorrow, and something healthy for dinner- ended up with chips from a Fish and chip shop called the Albatross. Gentleman who served me did however sponsor me £5. I think I might walk inland tomorrow and avoid the coast as much as I can.

Day 1 - Land End to Pendeen 10 Miles

Crossing the river Tamar to Cornwall on the train

   I got to Plymouth at 5:15 and rushed across town to catch my 5:45 train to Penzance. Light was starting to seep across the city centre. The people I past were a mixture of those drifting along who'd woken up early for work and those who'd yet to go to sleep. I walked the first ten minutes with my shoelaces undone from the coach, sure I'd miss the train. I'd reserved advanced tickets, and I still needed to pick them up at the station before boarding. After nearly missing my megabus from London I was waiting for something else to go wrong. The idea that I was actually starting was staggering, I really couldn't get my head around it. I'd not trained enough, I'd gone on one over night walk and was in general unfit. This was ridiculous.
  Everything, however, went fine and I found myself on a charmingly retro train with wide arm chair style seats and sleeper compartments. While it seemed to travel incredibly slowly it was also wonderfully smooth and I dozed happily. Compared with the cramped knee crushing chairs in megabus these coaches were heaven.

View from Penzance Train station back to St Michael's Mount

  Once at Penzance I searched for a cafe to have breakfast in while waiting for the bus. Straight outside the station is a wonderfully cheap and friendly greasy spoon called Sullivan's Dinner. Fried egg sandwiches £1.20 and tea for £1. It's not a stylish buildings, rather a rundown box but the foods good and quick.
  I could feel my heart beating a little faster on the bus. I couldn't help fidget and check the straps on the backpack as if they'd suddenly break. Its a state of the art Deuter backpack, the straps are not going to break anytime soon. Although only a dozen or so miles away the bus was slow and wound around the town in zigzags taking nearly 50 minutes to complete the journey.
  Lands end was crowded with tourists, a large group of cyclists near the entrance balanced on their perches listening to their leaders instructions. Most of the people milling around were foreigner. I wondered past them feeling fooling with my backpack. I found a smaller sign than I'd expected and got a nice gentleman to take some pics of me grinning. I tried to hold up the banner but the wind wouldn't let me. A weather warning had been issued for today's winds and they were spot on.
  Once I'd registered for the walk, had a toilet break, I finally set off. Walkers were everywhere, but none wearing the backpack and I stood out horribly. This became less conspicuous as I left Cowle and dropped down to Whitesand Bay.
  The walking isn't too steep but once off the beach the path is hard under foot, a few scrambles slowing me down and breaking my rhythm. Longer distance walkers wondered past here and there, more than I've ever seen. I seemed to have finally planned a walk during the hiking season.

Registration book at the start of Land's End to John o'Groats

Freswick Beech

  It took quite a while to reach Cape Cornwall. Chimneys begin to speckle the landscape like silent wardens. Tin mining is evident but not in an ugly way, time making their ruins romantic. The idea of the labyrinth beneath my feet adds mystery to their shapes.
    My new hat proved a major success, fitting perfectly and keeping the hair out of my face. I also figured I should get used to wearing it before the summer really begins.
   Cutting across farm land I reached Pendeen and found North Inn where I camped. The wind was so strong I was seriously worried for my tent and spent nearly half an hour fastening it down. Even now sat in the pub I'm a little worried I'll go back to find it gone. That would not be a good start. 

  Showered I made myself dinner, couscous and tinned diced and beef in gravy. Dull food and a mistake. Also the tin cost £3 which is a tad pricy. If I get to St Ives early enough I'll find a proper shop and do better. I've also promised myself a pasty before leaving Cornwall so that is also on the menu.
 Only 13 miles tomorrow so another relatively easy day, and a chance to allow my body to adapt to the trail. First day done I feel slightly less scared, still don't believe I'm actually doing though.

North Inn Campsite, Pendeen