Day 127 - Monday 18 April 2005 - Morwenstow to Hartland Quay

 9 miles walked today

1329 miles walked in total (10.464 average)

Today was the second half of the "severe" day written up in my guidebook.  Unfortunately weather put paid to walking again yesterday but the sun was shining this morning and normal services were resumed.   (In fact, the only spots of rain I got today were as I crossed the Cornwall/ Devon border.)

True to form, I had some big hills straightaway - Henna Cliff, Marsland Mouth and Welcombe Mouth, which is where the county border is.  On climbing out of Marsland, I came upon a small brick built hut on the cliff, with a note on the door saying "if the door is unlocked, please come in".  Not being one to turn down such an invitation, I ventured in to find the hut built in 1962 by the poet and writer, Ronald Duncan.  What a superb view!  No wonder he was inspired to write.   (He wrote, amongst other works, the opera "The Rape of Lucretia" in 1947, for which Benjamin Britten wrote the score.)

In 1982, after Duncan's death, his daughter, Brioney, did not want to demolish the hut once it fell into disrepair and rebuilt it herself.  This mammoth task took over one hundred return trips up and down the cliff path, moving all the new materials and old stone.  What a labour of love.

From Welcombe, after I'd crossed the stream by the stepping stones and was halfway up the cliff, things got very exciting as I was stopped by a policeman and police dog coming the other way.  I had realised that something was going on as I'd watched the coastguard landrover rushing down the road to the car park with lights flashing and three coastguards were sprinting up the cliff behind me.

The policeman asked me to be on my look out as they were very concerned about a local chap who had gone missing and they were searching the coast path.  He furnished me with a description, had a bit of a chat about the weather and then told me to enjoy my walk to Hartland Quay.   Enjoy my walk?!  When there were potentially crazed criminals on the loose who were six foot tall, forty-two years old, with curly black short hair and answered to the name of Julian?  I don't think so!   He hadn't even told me what to do if I saw him, except tell someone at Hartland Quay who would pass on the information.  I didn't know whether I should run, hide, or apprehend him and effect a citizen's arrest.  Gosh, why do these things happen to me?

(As it turned out later when I was chatting to yet another coastguard, this chap had disappeared before - he had mental health problems - and had been found on the beach then, which is why the search was being concentrated on the cliffs and beaches and not in the local taverns.)

So, with all the excitement, I forgot to make a note of the wildlife today, although I did have to walk through fields of sheep and cows.   And I saw my first buzzards and a rabbit!

At Sandhole Cliff, I had to leave the path for a bit of a road detour and I was asked by some local workmen what was going on.  By this time, the coastguard helicopter was involved and, to be honest, it was beginning to annoy me!   The blinking thing just kept circling overhead - which I know is its job - but the noise was deafening.  (Although, I also found it strangely comforting to know that they had their eye on me too, in case I came a cropper anywhere.)

When I got back to the path, I got chatting to another coastguard.   It's been a very sociable day!   He told me that they work in teams of twelve and his team covers a twenty-five square mile area.   He told me they were all linked by mobile 'phones and he was most concerned to see whether I had a mobile, in case I ever got in any trouble.   Apparently, if I need them, I just dial 999 and ask for the coastguard.  I think they quite often get called out to help with walkers in distress.  (I'm quite often in distress, but I'm not sure that's the sort of call they want!)

The path went inland down the valley to Speke's Mill Mouth, although there was a cliff top path too, which my guidebook told me to avoid because of erosion.  There was an amazing waterfall at the bottom and the valley itself was very green and lush, where it was fed by the stream which eventually became the fall.  I've really enjoyed today - it's been fantastic - the scenery has been stunning and, although the walking was hard, it's been a blast.

It wasn't far now to Hartland Quay, my destination for the day.   And I was absolutely astounded to see a couple who where having what I can only describe as a "romantic encounter" halfway up a cliff, not very well hidden by some rocks.  While I imagine that clifftop sex is quite romantic - and a bit daring because there's always the chance you'll get caught - I can only wonder what sort of state I would be in having climbed up that clifftop, by which time I would probably have gone off the whole idea.  Exhibitionists!

As I came down into Hartland Quay, I met a chap coming the other way who's walked from Minehead last week and is going to see how far he can get by the weekend.   I told him about what I was up to with my six months and he said he thought I was doing the right thing and he'd write a reference to that effect if I ever needed it!

At Hartland Quay, I walked straight into the pub for a pint before summoning a taxi back to Morwenstow and Dizzy.  What a fantastic day - long may they continue.

Day 126 - Saturday 16 April 2005 - Bude to Morwenstow

 8.5 miles walked today

1320 miles walked in total (10.476 total)

My guidebook informed me that today would be a "severe" 15.5 miles - you reckon?!  The map soon came out and a suitable halfway point was found for me to finish - Morwenstow had an interesting story to go with the church, so I decided to call it a day there and investigate.

It's alternated today between baking hot and so cold that it makes your eyes water.  I had remembered to pack my hat and gloves this morning, along with waterproofs as the forecast wasn't great.

I had a fairly easy ascent out of Bude along Maer Cliff, but it wasn't long before the big hills were before me, Menachurch Point being the first and Sandy Mouth the next.  Most of the land I've walked along today has been National Trust owned and they're trying to introduce more wild flowers back to the area, which means the land needs to be grazed by cattle in the meantime who get rid of the more scrubby areas.  In fact, from Sandy Mouth, I shared the path with a dozen cows!  I headed through a herd of cows up to where the path should have been, but it had fallen into the sea!   The cows had been a bit wary of me - who wouldn't be?! - as I'd walked up the hill, but, when they saw me coming back down the hill to find an alternative path, they scarpered.   Straight onto the path that I needed to walk to Duckpool.   We must have looked a bizarre sight, me following the cows along the coast path!

It wasn't long before I had a descent to Duckpool followed by a nightmare hill up to Steeple Point.  I got chatting to one lady who lives locally, but whose sister lives in Dubai and whose mother lives in Australia.  She was busy texting them to say you couldn't beat Cornwall!   We discussed the flowers that were growing on the hills and, between us, we managed to spot early flowering purple orchids, violets and primroses.   There was a very pretty orangey-red coloured thistle, but we were none the wiser about its name.

A bit further round, I got talking to a chap whose dog had tried to run  me over on his gallop down the hill!   This chap had moved down from Essex and says he'll never move again.  I asked him whether he felt the same in August when all the tourist hordes arrived, but he said, even then, you still could get around very easily and the holiday makers didn't bother him.  His main gripe was the National Trust who charged £3 for the car parks at the coast and he was trying to find alternative venues to walk Roxy because of this.

I had to walk past some sort of radar station before Lower Sharpnose Point.  I'd seen this installation for a few days now as it was huge and glowing white - but, suspiciously, it wasn't marked on my Ordnance Survey map or in my guidebook.  Spooky?

Then came a big downhill to Stanbury, followed by a huge uphill to Higher Sharpnose Point, which is where I took an alternative inland route to Crosstown and Morwenstow.  I met a German couple who had walked from Morwenstow and directed me to the footpath I needed.   They pointed out a ridge that they'd walked and had been informed you can only walk the ridge in good weather as it's a bit scary in rain or high winds.   The chap said that it "probably wouldn't bother you anyway as you look very sporty".   What?!!   If only he knew ...

Apart from being a halfway point, I'd chosen Morwenstow to finish as I'd been intrigued by a few stories I'd read about an ex vicar from there, the Reverend Robert Stephen Hawker, one of life's eccentrics.  From 1834 to 1875, Rev Hawker worked here and built a driftwood hut on the cliffs, where he could watch the sea, write his poetry and smoke opium.   His lasting legacy to the church is that he originated the Harvest Festival.   According to my guidebook, he was a bit of a character and once hoaxed the superstitious locals by sitting on a rock by the seashore dressed as a mermaid.  He eventually revealed who he was by standing up and singing the National Anthem.   I'm not entirely sure why Amanda and I thought this especially hysterical on the 'phone last night - I think it was probably because Amanda insisted I try and re-enact this scene today!

Quite by chance, the path finished today at a tearooms.   (I don't just throw this together!)  And the lady there is going to let me park Dizzy in her drive and she's going to keep an eye on her for me while I'm walking tomorrow.   On the understanding that I call in for another cup of tea when I finish, of course!

Day 125 - Friday 15 April 2005 - Crackington Haven to Bude

 10 miles walked today

1311.5 miles walked in total (10.492 average)

Yet another day off yesterday - more bad weather, which is very frustrating.  I mooched around Bude, got the bus timetables for the next stretch - Devon - and went back to the campsite and read a book.  While that's a real treat for me, I don't want to be doing it every day.

Today, it was quite grey to start with but at least it was dry.   So I was parked and ready to go from Crackington Haven at just after nine thirty.  I had a big climb straightaway up to Pencannow Point, 400 feet above the beach.  There then followed a few ups and downs - Castle Point, Chipman Point and Dizzard Point.  It's been very sunny all day, although very windy and blinking cold.   I didn't hang about on those climbs, especially as the path was very close to the cliffs all day and I didn't want to be a victim of the stiff breeze!

Between Dizzard Point and Millook, the footpath followed the top of the cliffs and was fairly flat and level, until I came down through a wood which was carpeted in primroses - I've never seen so many - absolutely beautiful.  In the height of summer, it's always lovely to walk through woods as they afford some shelter from the sun.  However, at this time of year, when there's been lots of rain and no sun getting through to the undergrowth, it's very boggy and muddy to walk on and quite slippery.  At least I didn't have any slate on the path today to contend with,

I've seen primroses, violets, gorse, bees, butterflies and a number of stag beetles.  For the first climb out of Crackington this morning, the path was overgrown with wild garlic and, as I brushed against it as I walked through, I got the full force of the sweet strong smell.

The stretch to Millook Haven was on road - there's been some major subsidence along this bit of coast and the path was constantly being diverted inland.  I had quite a lot of road walking today which was a pity as I've got used to all these footpaths.   My guidebook said "don't blame the county council, as the road is going as well!"  Blimey!

The climb out of Millook was a horror!   I noticed the road sign which said it was a 30 per cent incline, but the cliff was worse than that!   I got to the top and had a sitdown with my packed lunch and refused to give up my bench to anyone else who needed it!

From here, it was back on roads again to Wanson Mouth and a stretch over sand dunes from there to Widemouth Beach, which was surprisingly unpopulated.   The beach is enormous and there were a couple of surf hire shops but nobody about to take advantage of their wares.

From Widemouth, the path was sandwiched between the road and the clifftops and there were signs up everywhere warning walkers to stay away from the edge due to cliff "slumps".  These depressions were very noticeable and had been fenced around but it was quite worrying that these dips had appeared so suddenly.

The path was very grassy and well walked into Bude, along the canal and into the town, where I didn't have long to wait for my bus back to Crackington.

It's been a fab day - very cold, but great walking, despite the road bits.  Even the hills didn't seem so bad today, although the guidebook grading was "strenuous".  Maybe I've found my walking legs at last?

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?