Day 124 - Wednesday 13 April 2005 - Tintagel to Crackington Haven

 11.5 miles walked today

1301.5 miles walked in total (10.495 average)

I had another day off yesterday - when I woke up, we were surrounded by thick fog and nil visibility and that really horrible thin drizzle that gets into every pore.  Also, Dizzy was a bit under the weather so we needed to find a bodyshop where she could have some emergency surgery!  One of her side panels had fallen off - the panels are held on with three hinges, one at each end and one in the middle.  The one nearest the driving end had come away and I'd done a bit of a botch job - Andy had left me with a hammer and a set of screwdrivers - big mistake!  So we booked into a workshop in Launceston and I had a mooch round for a few hours while a bunch of mechanics tried to work out how to bolt her back together.

So, today, I was walking down Tintagel High Street at nine thirty, down to the castle and on a big uphill road round Barras Nose.  Had I read the guide book properly before I started, I would have realised there was an easier way up the hill!  Ho hum.

There have been a number of waterfalls today, although signs along the coast path warned against people having a closer look because of severe erosion and the path had been diverted slightly inland for much of the way.  The first mini fall was at Rocky Valley - the paths were quite tricky today in that it had rained all yesterday and most of last night and there was a lot of standing water.  Also, a lot of the path is made up of slate which is fairly slippery even in dry weather where it's been very highly polished by the number of boots tramping over it, and of course it was made much worse by the rain.

My guide book had told me to look out for all the sea birds today nesting on the headlands - I saw lots of gulls, but no puffins, which are seen around in early summer.   I'm a bit confused generally about when spring ends and summer begins so maybe it's the wrong time to be looking anyway?  I've seen lots of bees, butterflies, crows, kestrels, cows and wild horses today and the flower department has been taken care of by campion, gorse, violets and primroses.  Today was the first time since I started last week that I'd actually smelt the wonderful coconut scent of the gorse - heavenly.

I got to Boscastle at noon and was pleased to see that the locals are doing their best to get their lives back after those desperate scenes we saw on the TV news last September when the village was practically washed away by floods.  There's still a lot of evidence of building work and a lot of the properties are boarded up.  One shop in the harbour had a sign up saying "We're back" and it was good to see.  It was also nice to see that a lot of people were visiting the area and spending money in the local shops and galleries.

I climbed halfway up Penally Hill out of Boscastle and sat and had my lunch before starting the next "strenuous" section to Crackington.  This morning's grading had only been "moderate" - who makes this stuff up?!  There was a bigger waterfall at Pentargon and I was lulled into a false sense of security by the fairly level walking around Beeny Cliff.  However, then came Fire Beacon Hill, Buckator and the highest cliff on the South West Coast Path - the imaginatively named High Cliff!  According to my guide book, at 731 feet above the sea, High Cliff is best avoided when a gale is blowing.  In my opinion, it is best avoided in all weather.  At all costs.  Jeez, what a nightmare!  The best bit about it is the view obviously - I saw Lundy Island for the first time, thirty miles away.

The next bit was even worse - I think the path had been walked by herds of cows - it was really churned up and muddy and very indistinct.  I think cows should be taught how to walk in an orderly fashion to make it easier for us humans to work out which direction we should be going in.  Or they should just be banned from the coast path altogether.  (At one point today, I managed to stray into a cow field and ended up the wrong side of an electric fence, which involved a tricky shimmer under the fence to get back on the path!)  My boots were so covered in mud and clay that I could probably have called into a local Cornish pottery and sold them the clay I was carrying about with me.  Either that, or I could have borrowed a wheel and thrown a few pots myself.

Past the beaches at The Strangles, the path levelled out again and it was a steady descent into Crackington Haven where I was due to get the bus back to Tintagel, but not for another ninety minutes.  Crackington Haven doesn't have much except a bus stop, two tea shops and a pub - result!  What's a girl to do in that situation?  It would have been rude not to try out the local facilities!

Day 123 - Monday 11 April 2005 - Port Isaac to Tintagel

 9 miles walked today

1290 miles walked in total (10.487 average)

I don't think that Dizzy likes mornings - she's obviously an evening person, as opposed to her owner who's usually tucked up in bed by half past nine!  So, almost immediately after starting out this morning, I was stalled on a narrow hill and directing an old biddy in a range rover around me!  Consequently, walking was delayed until ten fifteen.

Very rarely for coastal walking, I had parked on a hill and had a downhill to start with towards Port Gaverne - hurrah!   It wasn't long though before I was struggling up my first hill, at the top of which I met a Scottish family who had travelled down for a week from Paisley.  Owing to the state I was already in, they assumed I had been walking for hours and they seemed very disappointed to learn I'd only been going for half an hour!

I've had some big hills today - Delabole Point, Jacket's Point and Tregardock, to name the worst.   The guide book said the grading today was "severe" and that "the descents to the valley streams and up the other side are about the steepest on the whole of the coast path and the cliff tops are amongst the highest" - bring it on!   I spent most of the morning in an effort to remain upright and breathing, so sadly missed looking at most of the scenery.  The steps were horrendous again - at one tricky point, I was trying to hoist myself up a step which was obviously built for those giants I have yet to meet walking the coast path, when I put my hand down to try and balance myself.  Right into a clump of gorse - aaarrrrgggghhhh!   (Note to self:  check out whether tetanus boost is due.)

I met a couple from Porlock Weir who were walking up a hill I was attempting to roll down and they said that their fields ran down to the sea and I should look out for the horses next week when I go past and go and have a cup of tea with them.  I shall be in need of more than a cup of tea by then, I reckon.   They walk a week of the coastal path each year and have calculated they'll be ninety by the time they finish!  A bit further round, I got talking to another couple who live in Bournemouth at the other end of the South West Coast Path and have done a lot of walking at that end.   They were trying to work out how they were going to get back to Tintagel at the end of the day, so I pulled out my bus timetable and we had an impromptu planning session - we worked out that our buses would probably pass at the end of the day and we could wave to each other!

I've seen gorse, periwinkle, primrose, violets and thrift today.  I also spotted a couple of kestrels flying along, with their very distinctive chestnut coloured backs and some Red Devon cattle which appeared to have strayed over the county border.

The beach at Trebarwith Sound was beautiful but I didn't want to go and sit on it as it was a hell of a climb back on to the cliffs from there.   So instead, I climbed halfway up the cliff and sat and had lunch there.  It's been absolutely beautiful - the fleece stayed off today and I walked in a teeshirt - but some of the hills inland were shrouded in mist where the sun hadn't burnt it off.

From Trebarwith, it was relatively easy to get to Tintagel along wide level paths and I passed all the old slate quarries - so that's where it all comes from!  The slate used to be shipped from underneath the cliffs at Penhallic Point.  Tintagel has long been associated with King Arthur and the castle there, according to legend, was the birthplace and seat of power for Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table.  Of course, there's no evidence to back any of this up, but it sells, and the shops in Tintagel High Street are full of mini Excaliburs and Arthurian gifts to tempt tourists in

I staggered down the hill and straight into the tearooms at the bottom of Tintagel Castle - I had intended to try and make for a pub, but a drink of any description would have been satisfactory!  Because of the bus timetables, I only had an hour to mooch about before heading up to the Methodist church to get my bus.  In the absence of any visible evidence of a bus stop, I popped into the Tourist Information Centre to make sure the stop hadn't been moved.  The lady there confirmed that the bus did, indeed, stop outside the church and I had to leap out into the road to stop it.  It seems to be a Cornish tradition.

I was in a bit of a panic generally as I knew I had to make a connection at Gaia Energy Centre and the first bus was late.   When we got to Gaia, an old boy there said that the connecting bus had already left.  With much swearing, my bus driver told me to "sit tight, we'll catch him up".  Blimey!  What I can only describe as the Jensen Button of the bus driving world took the country roads by storm and I swear I saw him clock seventy!  We eventually caught up with the rogue bus - he was filling up with petrol in Delabole!  With much (good natured) hand gesturing and laddishness, my first bus driver reversed round the corner and set off to carry on with his correct route and my second bus driver tried to tell me with a straight face that he wasn't going to Port Isaac anyway.   Blinking comedians!

So, a very good day - and one that I wasn't really looking forward to because of the difficulty involved.  Very pleased with progress today - bit concerned with my sunburned nose though!

Day 122 - Sunday 10 April 2005 - Padstow to Port Isaac

 11.5 miles walked today

1281 miles walked in total (10.5 average)

Today very nearly didn't happen.   When I woke up, it was very grey.   Then I couldn't find the camp site owners to pay them.  They weren't due on site until ten o'clock and I wanted to be long gone by then.  I rang them and arranged where to leave the money though so I could make a quick getaway.  Except I couldn't - Dizzy wouldn't start!  However, after about ten minutes, I tried again - I think I may have flooded the choke.  Oops!  Then I discovered there were no buses running on Sunday so I'd need to sort out a taxi.   And when I finally drove into Rock, I drove so fast over a ramp which I didn't see, that I had to spend quite a long time putting everything back where it should be in the van!  So, strictly speaking, I didn't walk from Padstow - the passenger ferry travels from Padstow to Rock continually and I had intended to go over from Rock to Padstow and straight back again, so I could start with a clear conscience.  However, because of all the mishaps already this morning, I decided I couldn't put off the inevitable any longer and off I strode.

But only as far as Daymer Bay and the St Enedoc golf course where I did my usual straying onto the fairways in search of a goal - this morning's goal was St Enedoc Church, which, for many years, had been buried beneath the sand dunes, and is now the resting place of Sir John Betjeman who attended the church since his Cornish holidays as a boy in 1910.   He wrote the poem "Sunday Afternoon Service in St Enedoc Church, Cornwall" in 1945 about the dash to the church across the golf course.

Paths, unfamiliar to golfers' brogues, Cross the eleventh fairway broadside on And leave the fourteenth tee for thirteenth green, Ignoring Royal and Ancient, bound for God.

I spent quite a lot of time in the churchyard apologising to those whose graves I was tramping over to get up to the bench at the top of the churchyard.   I could quite see how the church could have been buried as it's built into a natural dip in the dunes.   Betjeman's slate tombstone is very simply worded, with some ornate carving, with just his name and the year, 1984.   A perfect spot.

After a while though, it was time to move on and I took the very easy, wide path round to Polzeath where surfing schools had set up shop and were doing a roaring trade with wetsuit and board hire.   One group that I watched for ages were made to draw surfboards in the sand, which they had to stand on to perfect their stance.  Very entertaining, but I wasn't getting very far.

As I headed around New Polzeath, I met a couple, Norman and Julie, who had come back on holiday after spending their honeymoon here, fifty years ago.  They'd promised themselves, all those years ago, that they'd stay in the bungalow right by the beach and, luckily, it had lived up to expectations, although it had single beds which wasn't to their liking!   From what I could make out, they have done a lot of walking and Norman quizzed me about what I was up to, apologising when he said he didn't have a mobile, otherwise I could ring him up and he'd come and get me from Port Isaac and take me back to Dizzy in Rock.  How sweet!  I'm always struck by people's generosity - Julie wasn't too impressed though.  Apparently he has a habit of chatting up women they meet on the paths and never speaks to the men!

As I got round to Pentire Point, I found a tablet on the cliffs commemorating the words of Laurence Binyon who had composed "For the Fallen" on these cliffs in 1914.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:  Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.  At the going down of the day and in the morning we will remember them.

Inspiring words for inspiring scenery.   I've seen campion, gorse, periwinkle, mallow, primroses, violets, wild garlic and some very smelly and stroppy Dartmoor ponies who are being reintroduced to the area.  I read an article recently that said they're more in danger of becoming extinct than the giant panda.  

I was beginning to lose my sense of humour somewhat - it's been a really tough day with loads of steep ups and downs.  And the stiles!   They're made for giants, not for people with normal length legs like myself - and don't even get me started on the steps cut into the hills.   Methods of torture.

Just before Port Quin, at Doyden Point, stands a 19th century folly, Doyden Castle - it's tiny!  It was built by a local man from Wadebridge, Samuel Symons, as a clifftop retreat for drinking and gambling with his chums.   I met a chap who was staying there - he looked a bit of an eccentric himself, with his combat jacket, shorts, long hair in a ponytail and smoking the most revolting smelling cigar ever.   

From Port Quin, the coast path sign said it was only three miles to Port Isaac, but that stretch took me an hour and forty-five minutes.  What a nightmare.   I'm so glad I got that over with and didn't save it for tomorrow - I should have known as the guidebook said it was a "strenuous" day.

So, unfortunately, I didn't get much time to explore Port Isaac as all I wanted to do was go and find a campsite and a cup of tea!  Tomorrow is supposed to be a shorter day although graded "severe" so hopefully I'll get a bit of a look round tomorrow.

Day 121 - Saturday 9 April 2005 - Porthcothan to Padstow

 13.5 miles walked today

1269.5 miles walked in total (10.491 average)

Another good day.   Managed a day off yesterday (after only one day of walking!), as I woke up to hailstones and thought it might not be a good idea to stride out along clifftops with little or no shelter!  (I received a text message from Alan last night - "I say old girl, do you intend to do any actual walking?"  Cheeky sod!)

So, at quarter past nine, I was parked and ready to go.  I didn't get very far - it's always so hard to get going - before I stopped and chatted to a local couple who walk a bit of the path every day, lucky things.  The old boy pointed out the pools where the lobsters live and explained about the National Lobster Hatchery at Padstow - apparently the babies are brought up there before being shipped around the world and introduced back into the wild and, ultimately, the food chain.  My new friends said I was in for a good day and should catch a bit of excitement as the piling rig was on its way out of Padstow round to Mother Ivey's Bay to build the new lifeboat station and I'd see it on its travels.  Oh good, more engineering.

I've seen some wonderful beaches today and trekked across a few - Treyarnon Bay, Constantine Bay and Booby's Bay this morning.  It was at Constantine that I could see disaster looming for one young family.   Even to my non-dog owner untrained eye, a golden retriever leaping up and down and barking at a flying kite which is plummeting to the sand looks like trouble to me!   Poor Harvey!   As soon as the kite hit the deck, the dog leapt on it and tried to eat it, accompanied by the sounds of children crying, gnashing of teeth and cries of "Bad Harvey"!  It did make me chuckle - I love naughty dogs!

The dunes and the back of all the beaches today have been covered in slate - not sure where it's travelled from, but there was a lot of it.  Past Booby's Bay beach, it was back onto low rise cliffs and past a couple of "round holes" - caves where the roofs have collapsed and left spectacular views down to the water, before heading past the lighthouse at Trevose Head.  Apparently, the lighthouse is open to the public, but my guidebook told me to avoid it at all costs if the fog horn was sounding!   No chance of that today - it's been glorious - blue skies and very little cloud.

As I came round Mother Ivey's Bay, I saw a couple of engineers surveying on the cliffs - obviously something to do with the new lifeboat station - still no sighting of the piling rig.  Mother Ivey apparently was an old harridan who used to claim all wreckage washed up on the beach for herself, a character I rather fancy would have been played by Peggy Mount or Irene Handl in one of the old Ealing comedies.   Perhaps I'm just spending too much time on my own in the sun?!

I've seen bees, butterflies, gulls, crows, gorse, tamarisk and either a grey plover or sandpiper according to my bird book.  Where's Bill Oddie when you need him?

Past Harlyn Bay and Trevone Bay, I had a bit of a climb up to the daymark at Stepper Point which was built to guide ships towards the Camel estuary inlet and Padstow and it was on this stretch that I came across a group of fourteen walkers, which included two children and a baby in a pushchair - I didn't envy the two guys who were having to carry the sleeping child up and down all the steep bits.  Apparently, they'd forgotten the carrying papoose.  Oops.

From Stepper Point, it was all downhill - just as I like it - a couple of miles past Hawker's Cove and Harbour Cove down into Padstow, which was heaving.

I had originally intended to take Saturdays off and just mooch around with the crowds, but, because of yesterday's aborted walk, I didn't really feel like I could take today off too.  So it was a quick mooch around and a pint and a pasty in the Old Ship Inn near the harbour.

Padstow is a very workmanlike little town, which I quite like.   It's not pretty in the way that Polperro or Looe are pretty, but it has its own charm.   Rick Stein, the TV chef, lives here and has two restaurants, a bistro, a hotel, a patisserie, a delicatessen and a fish and chip shop.  And, obviously, his books are on sale everywhere in the town.   There's even a Padstow Seafood School here, which I'm sure he must have a hand in too.

Padstow was the most important trading centre on the north Cornish coast when most cargo travelled the world by ship - and was mainly used for transporting wine and fish, and slate and ore from local mines.  Trade declined as bigger ships needed to be built and the Doom Bar - the sandbank at the mouth of the estuary - silted up, making navigation difficult.  The building of the railway in 1899 sounded the death knell to the port's trade, although it ensured the swift movement of fish up to London and other markets.

The piling rig was still in the harbour and hadn't left yet for its journey around the coast - there was lots of activity though with cranes up and down and lots of people standing around in hi vis jackets.  Bet those boys are heading for some serious overtime!

Really enjoyed it today, although I was quite tired at the end of the day and have rubbed a couple of blisters.  Still, I'm sure when I get going properly, all the aches and pains will vanish, won't they?

Day 120 - Thursday 7 April 2005 - Newquay to Porthcothan

 11 miles walked today

1256 miles walked in total (10.466 average)

What a day!  Very blustery and cold and, boy, has the surf been up!

This is the first day of my six month adventure - I've finally given my notice in at work, bought a campervan - from here on known as "Dizzy" - and am planning to spend six months walking from Newquay to who knows where?  I'm trying not to plan too much as I want to enjoy this and take each day as it comes.

So, for the last three months, I've been buying gadgets and getting more competent with a laptop computer, printer and digital camera - so that I can email and send the diary as I head round the coast.  Andy has mostly been patient with me, despite the fact that it takes me longer than a seven year old child to understand this new technology!

I had my first camping expedition at the weekend - I stayed at West Runton, near Cromer.   Despite a few omissions - anything to drink, soap (which I didn't realise until I was starkers in the shower and sopping wet!) and matches for the cooker, so I ended up with a banana sandwich and a yoghurt for tea, it went pretty much without a hitch!   I aim to be much more organised now!  I was very nearly thrown out of the Camping and Caravanning Club on only my first night though - it was a quick march over the golf course down to the Village Inn at West Runton where I met Mum and Dad, and Rat and Pam.  They plied me with drinks and didn't get me back to the campsite until 11.30 pm, half an hour after "lights out" so I had to stagger around a bit with my torch to try and find Dizzy.

I travelled down to Newquay on Tuesday after packing everything at West Drayton on Monday and it took me seven hours to get down here!   Dizzy is a bit of an old lady - like myself - and doesn't like to do more than fifty miles per hour although, on the downhill, she's a bit of a speed demon.  So I found a campsite at Porth and spent Tuesday and last night there, and had a mooch into Newquay yesterday to find bus timetables, internet cafes, etc.

I actually started walking today and had a "moderate" stretch according to my guidebook.  Despite not walking since last September, I didn't find it too strenuous, although the wind helped me round!  Blimey, it was gusty!  Definitely a day to hold on to your hat.  I left Newquay at 9.30 am and headed around Lusty Glaze round to Porth before heading past the Bronze Age burial mounds at Trevelgue Head above Whipsiderry Beach, past Watergate Beach and round Berryl's Point to Mawgan Porth.

It was here that it started to rain so I found a bus shelter to have lunch in - disaster struck.  Everything tasted of banana, including my tuna mayo sandwiches, as I'd had a splurge in my rucksack!   Feeling the need to mop up, and to stop any banana loving insects from following me to Porthcothan, I stopped at the Beach Cafe to have a coffee and warm up a little.  The sun came out almost immediately and it was blue sky for the rest of the day, although very cold.

The path's been fab - long wide stretches over the cliffs and I've seen violets, thrift, flowering gorse, caterpillars, bees and what I think were a stonechat and a sandpiper, although they both flew off before I got a proper look at them.

From Mawgan Porth, it was a quick up and over Carnewas National Trust land round to Bedruthan Steps where legend has it that the huge granite stacks on the beach were stepping stones used by the giant, Bedruthan.

From here, it was an easy saunter along the clifftops and down towards Porthcothan, where I had to wait for an hour for the bus back to Newquay, a manoeuvre which involved leaping into the path of the oncoming bus to flag him down!

Once back at Newquay, I collected Dizzy and headed out to find accommodation - I found a fab site at St Merryn and was only charged a fiver for the privilege.

A very good start to my walking adventure.

Day 119 - Friday 24 September 2004 - our caravan, Perranporth, to Newquay

 8 miles walked today

1245 miles walked in total (10.462 average)

I left the caravan just after nine and was soon plodding through endless dunes and along Perran Beach, all of which played havoc with my calf muscles and bum cheeks.   Who needs to join a gym when you can walk along Cornish beaches?

As I climbed up Ligger Point, I could hear the guns start to fire in the army camp and imagined I'd get sent back the way I'd come.  However, there were no red flags flying and the signs all warned of live ranges and that I should keep to seaward of the red and white striped perimeter posts.  I'm sure that, if I really wasn't meant to be walking there, someone would have rushed out and arrested me and put me in front of a court martial, or whatever it is the military do with stroppy walkers.

Holywell Beach was absolutely stunning and I dawdled somewhat as I trudged through yet more sand dunes to try and find the coast path.  Signage today has left a lot to be desired.  I'll say no more on the matter, except to record that a number of expletives were uttered.

The path over Kelsey Head and round the back of Porth Joke was nice and grassy and level - just how I like it!  From West Pentire, the path started to go through sand dunes again, round the back of Crantock Beach and again the signs ran out - gggrrrrr!   Still, it didn't take long to get down to beach level where I could cross the River Gannel.  I'd checked yesterday that the ferry was still running and today is its last day.  However, if the tide is too low for the ferry, you have to use the footbridge.   This involved wading knee deep out to the bridge which was actually sitting in the water!  As soon as I'd got over, the ferryman took up the bridge and started up the boat!

So it was a soggy squelch round the back of Fistral Beach and through the town to the railway station to meet Mum and Dad.   There were far too many people in the town and I got quite aggravated until I changed from my boots into my sandals and went for a mooch myself.  It makes such a difference in attitude, going from rambler to ambler.   I don't mind people so much then.

So, that's the end of my week.  I now have to make some very serious decisions.  After my redundancy notice, is my job worth worrying about any more?  Do I ask for four months' unpaid leave to go walking/ travelling?   This was what I'd originally planned to ask on return from my holiday, but things look slightly different now in view of the work situation.  Next time I come down here, will it be for a fortnight's holiday or will it be a longer sabbatical?  Those people who know me well know how influential Andy is in anything I do - I'm finding it harder to think what to do and I wish he was here for encouragement and support.   I need to do some serious thinking.

I've had an excellent week - I've got to the destination I'd already planned to reach.  I haven't overstretched myself and I've really enjoyed the slower, less stressful, pace.  Perhaps I ought to plan less generally - once the pressures of huge mileages disappear, everything becomes more fun.

So, bye bye Cornwall.   Next time I'll be back, hopefully it will be for longer than a two week stretch.  If work say no to my request, I may just tell them to poke their job.

Day 118 - Thursday 23 September 2004 - Porthtowan to our caravan at Perranporth!

 9.5 miles walked today

1237 miles walked in total (10.483 average)

I woke this morning at 7.10 am as my 'phone was ringing.  I answered it, but there was no-one there, so, seeing it was a London number and assuming it must be work, I switched the 'phone off and went back to sleep for an hour.  (It turned out to be Andy, ringing to say he was on the move to Mosul today - wish I'd got to speak to him.)

I was staggering up the hill out of Porthtowan shortly before ten.  It was so cold and blustery today and there weren't many people about.   Within an hour I was at Chapel Porth having a hot chocolate, as recommended by one of the craft shop ladies in St Agnes yesterday - it was fantastic too!   There was a surfer in the sea at Chapel Porth and the waves were enormous.

It was quite a struggle to get going again and the path was very indistinct as I climbed up to Tubby's Head past Wheal Coates.  It wasn't so much that I couldn't see the path; it was more to do with seeing half a dozen paths and not knowing which was the correct one.

In fact, it's been a bit like that all day - the signage is a big haphazard.  There'll be a sign in the middle of a very obvious path pointing forwards, but, at a junction of paths, there'll be no signs at all - very frustrating.  I may have to write a letter ...

I carried on past St Agnes Head and Newdowns Head and headed downhill to Trevaunance Cove and its tearoom.   It had only taken me an hour from Chapel Porth, but I was very cold so I stopped and had a cup of tea.

I had another up and down to Trevellas Coombe and the Blue Hills engine house.  I'm not sure how I managed it, but I then did a bit of walking along an airfield runway!  I didn't hang about there, but quickly got back to the path at Hanover Cove.  As I walked along, I saw lots of cone shaped structures capping disused mine shafts.  They're made of mesh so bats can get in and out to nest.

At Cligga Head, I lost my sense of humour - I was so cold and everything was hurting.  And I saw a notice, "no access to pedestrians - sewage works in progress".  Not only had there been no warning, but there was no alternative route either.  I did a quick recce to see who was about and, on spotting no workmen types, I jumped over the fence, hopped over a couple of lengths of pipe, scaled a wall and was on my way.  Very naughty.

It was another down then into Perranporth before an up the other side over sand dunes and through the golf course to our caravan at Gear Sands.

Today has definitely been the toughest day of the week - so cold and blustery.  The sea foam was blowing so hard that it was coming up on to the cliffs.

Still, every little helps.  Can't believe everything hurts though!