I wake just before 5 am, expecting to be surrounded by sheep, but the mist hides them. It’s damp, and the tent is heavy with early morning dew. I have a sleeping companion — a tick crawls on the floor. I’m glad I found him before he found me.
Once on the move, the sun quickly burns away the mist. Half a mile further, I spot someone snoozing in a hammock between two trees. His mates are camped in a clearing on the clifftop. I was so close to reaching this place last night. Such is life.
Looe is my breakfast stop. It’s pretty and I explore the deserted streets around the harbour. A lovely lady is serving in The Cornish Bakery and sits down to chat with me over a bacon roll and coffee. She swapped the stresses of teaching for a quieter life. She refills my water bottle with ice and recharges my iPhone in the kitchen. It turns out she forgot to press the socket switch on, but it’s the thought that counts!
It’s a hot morning for hiking, and as I approach Bridge Rocks, far below me is the most enticing turquoise water. If not now, then when?
I plunge into the cooling water in my hiking shorts. It’s my first swim since I set out from Gravesend last autumn. I don’t have a towel but soon dry off in the sun.
A charming wooden shack cafe at Talland Bay, the Smugglers Rest, offers shade from the sun, and I lounge on the terrace with ice-cold lager.
One moment I see only cliffs and the next, a beautiful entrance to a hidden cove. Polperro appears from nowhere, like Brigadoon.
It’s the prettiest village I’ve seen so far, impossibly so — all whitewashed cottages, flowers, and winding narrow lanes. I have a date with the CAMRA-recommended Blue Peter pub. The food is great, the beer is varied and excellent, and the staff are chatty. The barman explains the origin of the Blue Peter flag, to signal that a ship is about to sail, and for the sailors to drink up. I did not realise that one of my childhood mainstays had such a disreputable link to dockside taverns.
It’s a gruelling climb out of the village to Kellow Farm campsite. I need an early pitch after last night’s debacle. Despite the hill, I walk back down for my third pint of the day at the Crumplehorn Inn. Well, I have lost a lot of fluid in this heat.
Back at the campsite, a thru-hiker, Duncan, quizzes me about my Zpacks tent. He spotted me in the pub taking my boots off, so thought I might be a kindred spirit. I have the luxury of a shower and then a comfortable sleep. A great day. Cornwall is setting a high standard.
Walk distance: 9 miles.
Total distance: 601 miles.
Hi Tony, the statue of the seal in Looe is called Nelson, he only had one eye and was a regular visitor to the harbour in Looe, he died in 2003. Your mention of seeing a tick, had me thinking if I had mentioned about anti-insect clothing, particularly if you intend to wild camp in Scotland. Check out the Craghoppers Nosilife range. I have walking trousers, a shirt, base layer and socks which carry the NoSilife sticker. I also use a permithrin spray.
Thanks Alan. I will check out the gear in due course. I assume it was effective for you when you walked round Scotland?
Sounds like a perfect day! A dip in the sea and a multitude of pubs 😄
Hard to beat! 🙂
I think so. I have removed two ticks that I have known about, one from bum-cheek the other from my leg. But its not just Scotland, Matt Dawson the Rugby got Lyme Disease from Richmond Park in London. Our own Ruth Livingstone also picked up Lyme disease.
As an additional measure I wore womens tights as an extra physical barrier.
Its a nasty thing to get