Day 56: Portreath to Perranporth

It is early and the field is heavy with dew, which means packing a wet tent, increasing the weight. Leaving the site, another camper kindly offers hot water for breakfast. Does he really mean just water or does it come with tea or coffee? I pass. Given that I skipped a meal last night, I am very hungry and hoped for a leisurely walk into Portreath for breakfast. The SWCP has other ideas.

My heart sinks when I reach Portreath, as both cafes in the harbour are only offering a take-away service. I ask a beachcomber for help, and he directs me to the Tideline Cafe in the centre of the village. The lady who runs the cafe asks what I would like. Everything! The cooked breakfast is superb. They are open all year round, as, unusually, 80% of the villagers are still locals. She tells me there are plenty of places on my route to replenish my food supplies….or deplenish them. A lovely turn of phrase.

The walk up to St Agnes Head, past the Wheal Coates tin mine, is entertaining, as paragliders and radio-controlled gliders ride the thermals.

Approaching Perranporth, there is an intriguing cave entrance, which seems accessible from the clifftop. Unfortunately, it is getting late, and I want to reach the campsite before dark, for once.

I can’t resist it. I will only pass this way once. I clamber down and step inside. It is not that deep, but the rock formations are fascinating.

The sea is still full of surfers, tiny black figures in the distance, bobbing like seal heads above the waves. A musician is playing an acoustic guitar. I would love to sit and listen but it is getting dark. Rather than follow the road out of town and up to the campsite, I decide to try a more interesting path across the huge beach and then cut across the dunes.

The sky is on fire. I am torn between sitting in the dunes to watch the sunset and finding the way to the campsite before night falls. I am not confident of navigating the hilly dunes in the dark with only my headtorch, so I press on, crossing a golf course. I could always pitch on a green if I get lost. That would go down well with the early morning golfers!

I reach Tollgate Farm campsite in the dark. I meet another hiker, Lorraine, who is also walking the path in stages. She directs me to the warden’s caravan.

The warden explains that the tent pitches are all taken. Not again! I rang last week and was told there was no need to book. He kindly allows me to use a caravan pitch. We chat about my plan to walk round Britain. In recognition, he reduces the pitch cost by 50%. How lovely is that?

My neighbours peer out of their windows at the strange chap putting his tent up in the dark. It looks even tinier than usual, surrounded by looming motor homes and caravans.

Once the tent is up, the warden returns in the dark with a can of beer. I am like a small child on Christmas morning. The smallest unexpected gestures can make a huge impact.

Walk distance: 17 miles.

Total distance: 794 miles.