|
Journal: |
I got up at 6:30am and tiptoed round the dormitory trying not to
disturb my three companions and regretting not getting my stuff more
organised before going to bed. The previous night, just before
going to bed, and after a quick guesstimation of the distances ahead
of me tomorrow, I had booked a bed at the Tintagel Youth Hostel.
It would be a Saturday night and might be busy.
I was now leaving the Coast Path and heading inland, following
the route suggested by the guidebook I had been following. At
first the suggested route just cut out a couple of low headlands
before briefly rejoining the Coast Path at Padstow. The inland
route to Padstow at first paralleled then crossed a very nice
heath-like golf course, before weaving it's way across farms and
along country lanes. The terrain was relatively easy and I
enjoyed crossing the fields and over the hedgerows and fences using
stiles (some of which were very challenging for a bloke with a pack
and bung knee).
Padstow turned out to be a beautiful old fishing village with
winding streets, lop-sided houses, and a rock-wall-enclosed harbour.
It had become a tourist town and I counted five Cornish Pastie shops
within 50 metres of the harbour. I found a bakery and enjoyed
a fresh made ham and cheese croissant and a cup of coffee for
breakfast. From Padstow, the official Coast Path catches a
ferry across the wide Camel River estuary then resumes following the
coastal cliffs on the other side. However, if you're going to
walk from Lands End to John O'Groats, ferries are out and the
suggested route followed the Camel River inland to the first bridge
at Wadebridge before returning to the Coast Path at Port Isaac.
Between Padstow and Wadebridge there was a rail-trail for 8km along
which I made good time. There was a bitingly cold wind and I
marvelled at the guy taking waterski lessons on the wide river.
Being Saturday morning, there were quite a few cyclists using the
path as well, most of whom gave me a cheery hello.
Wadebridge was quite a large town with lots of Saturday morning
activities and a fair number of tourists. I had planned to
have lunch there, but it was only 11:30am and most of the pubs
didn't open until noon. I decided to continue on and once
again followed a delightful and scenic route which linked a
number of public footpaths, rights-of-ways and country lanes across
farms and hedgerows to the small village of Chapel Amble where I had
lunch at the only pub in town. It was a bit pricey and I went
for cheaper cheese and pickle baguette and sat in a corner catching
up on my email, though reception was poor.
From Chapel Amble it was more farms, footpaths and hedgerows, the
kind of countryside I had always envisioned would make up a large
part of this trip. On occasions, the footpath passed right
through farmyards and, at other times, took you across the middle of
grain fields with no marked route, but just aiming for the stile you
could see on the other side of the field. I crossed a low
range of hills, offering splendid views back across the Cornish
countryside, before making the steep descent into the quintessential
fishing village of Port Isaac. I gather it's where the British
TV series, Doc Martin is filmed. There were lots of narrow
winding streets, historic old buildings of all shapes and sizes,
many with not a right-angle to be seen, and lots of tourists.
I bought some fudge for afternoon tea and sat by the harbour,
huddled up in the cold wind, enjoying the scene.
I was starting to realise that Tintagel Youth Hostel was still
quite a distance away as I rejoined the Coast Path and headed east.
I had the path virtually to myself in the late afternoon and enjoyed
the steep coastal scenery, but was suffering a bit on the seemingly
continual steep ups and downs to cross streams. The farms here
ran right down to the coast, so most of the time I was travelling
along the fence-line that separated the fields from the cliff edge.
I eventually reached Trebarwith Strand, a very small village, soon
after 7pm and went into the only pub to get dinner. It was
buzzing on a Saturday night and I had trouble finding a table, but
eventually found a small one near the kitchen. I think the
publican and his wife took pity on me, because they gave me a the
biggest servings of farmhouse stew and rhubarb crumble imaginable.
The farmhouse stew didn't have too many vegetables, but made up for
it with tender meat, dumplings and a rich brown gravy. I
really struggled to finish the crumble, but managed in the end, and
left with some jokes about whether I would make it up the hill out
of the village.
From there, it was about another hour's walk along the cliff-tops
to the Youth Hostel, itself some kind of old lightkeepers residence
(I think), and I enjoyed walking in the setting sun. It turned
out there was only one other guest at the hostel in addition to the
very friendly custodian. I spent the last few hours of the day
doing my chores and chatting with the other guest, a cyclist from
near London, who had also been a late arrival. It had been a
long and tiring day, but a satisfying one.
|
