Songline On Sea

I have now gone over half way along the Couth West Coast Path and am over half way on this last leg of my journey - I'm coming home. Three of us walked today, 2 Toms and a Martin were joined by Brolly who was happy to be back after her break. The day began with 2 ferries from Falmouth across the estuary to St. Mawes and then to St. Anthony. The weather was hot, the sea was calm (Martin's sentence). Tom Allan featured a lot today. First he left his camera int he second ferry (later retrived), then climbed to the top of a practice mast, then went swimming off a pier, and then at the very end of a hard walk led us off the path so that the last 2 miles took 2 hours. I have not until this very day got lost once. Martin was in the front almost all the time and is a brilliant walker. He is in many ways brilliant except at putting up his tent which I did not get involved in but took the 2 of them almost half an hour. During this time I went to the pub to order food. Events took a dramatic turn as we decended into Pendower Beach. A plump Cornish couple had spied a floating object out at sea through their flashy telescope. They enlisted my help in identifying it - it was clearly a dead seal and not the Cornish sea monster as Martin had hoped. I have mentioned that we are camping in Portloe but not that it is at the grassy end of the public car park where they clearly say Camping is Not Allowed. Read this space to see if we make it through the night.

It was supposed to be a day off but I had still to do the 6 miles into Falmouth. Plans changed several times during the day. Tom Allan, who is putting me up for 2 nights and I were both nursing slight handovers from a great night so we took it easy during the morning. We had a breakfast of toast, sausage roll and Cornish cream tea. By the time we had recovered from that there was little time before Martin Stoll was to arrive at 3pm by train from London to spend the week with me. It ended with Martin coming and doing the walk with me as an early evening stroll which was most pleasant. It was very hot as we took leave of the delightful Halford Estuary which I had enjoyed so much. The walk was very easy with some nice beaches. We cut off Pendennis Point as we had to meet Tom for dinner. He told us to meet at a restaurant which we found was closed but he drove down to pick us up and drove round to Flushing for a pub supper. Tom and I had had such a good time last year in Scotland making the radio programme when the Blessed Ruth was still with us and it is kind of him to move down here so I can see him again. I had thought that he was very together but I have become suspicious about that when we spent half an hour trying to find where he had left his car last night. Martin and I had got to Falmouth in time to witness the local fire brigade, 8 of them, looking up and trying to work out how to rescue a young seagull who had walked along the edge of the building away from its nest and got stuck on those spikey things designed to keep birds off the building. The RSPB have to pay the fire service £250 for this service. I found it hard to justify this expense. I saw a young blackbird hit by a car 2 days ago and its mother was close by totally helpless. The bird was obviously injured but alive enough to stagger towards a bush. How lucky we are to have arms to put around each other in times of need. I have Brolly back. She had 2 weeks break in Boscastle and then 2 nights on a boat in Penryn. I can only assume that she had a great time. There will be 3 of us walking tomorrow, what fun! We intend camping out tomorrow night.

I am 6 miles behind schedule which means my day off in Falmouth can only be half a day. I left the Youth Hostel with a bill of £35.00 which included dinner, bed and breakfast, 2 pints of beer and a towel. It was not a nice day which I was almost grateful for as it gave me an excuse to walk on the road and along inland footpaths. St. Kaverne was where I met the Cornish flag flying from the church tower. It was here that in 1497 Michael Joseph Angof led a poorly armer group of protesters to London and ended up hung, drawn and quarted for his efforts. The Cornish nationalists have their origins here and it is clearly still an issue celebrated by a significant group. My angel today was Suzie Armstrong who intercepted me at Gillam and knew who to phone for a ferry to St. Anthony where the waters have been served by 4 generations of the same family. It was a more formal ferry crossing over the Halford River where I arrived at the end of a Gig Event. I walked on to Mawvan where Tom Allan picked me up. Tom was the BBC Scotland reporter who featured me on an arts programme last year and who is now doing a course in Falmouth. His cure for all things is to turn upside down on an inversion table and roll on a ball.

I was supposed to get another 4 miles along the coast but I had managed to get a bed in the very good Youth Hostel at Covernack. I had planned to dump my sack and complete the scheduled walk but it had been much harder and slower than expected. I took 7 hours just to get to the hostel. I'm sleeping on the top bunk tonight so am reducing my liquid intake this evening as I don't fancy climbing down and up ladders to visit the bathroom. It's a change to have fresh linen compared with the backpackers dormitory in Penzance which smelt uncared for. It was very hot all day today. There was a lot of overgrown vegetation to walk through which in the heat was claustrophobic at times and the flies were wild with excitement. A lot of the coast is owned by the National Trust. They have a variety of horses, ponies and cattle grazing the coast keeping down the braken and therefore encouraging wild flowers. There are more little fishing villages on the east side of the Lizard which is generally more sheltered. I stopped for coffee in the delightful, still active fishing port of Cadgwith where there were loads of fresh crab and lobster and where the lifeboat has saved hundreds of lives. The air-sea rescue helicopters and the lifeboats are kept busy throughout the year. In addition, today, I passed a lookout post which is manned 365 days a year by unpaid trained volunteers - fantastic! There were lots of people on the beach and in the sea at Kennack Sands but a couple of miles along was a much nicer beach only accessible along the coast path. A man was seemingly alone playing on the beach with his 2 dogs when out of the sea appeared his semi-naked girlfriend. I looked away, of course, despite being a hundred yards distance on the path. Covernack is a small old fishing village not even big enough for a Spar! Kaya is going to hear Bruce Springsteen in Hyde Park tomorrow, Jonathan is performing at Glastonbury, and I continue to sing at least a little over the rivers and streams I cross.

Mary went back to London from Penzance and I took the bus back to Porthleven. The weather lookee dodgey but cleared, became very hot then dodgey again at the end of the day. There is a lengthy sandbar just passed Porthleven. Entry for 2 rivers into the sea has been cut off through longshore drift so the water has to seep under the sandbar. It makes the sea too dangerous for bathing. The coast path crosses the bar which is like a desert with a little dry vegetation over paths. I had nowhere to stay tonight so went into Mullian and eventually found a B&B. All the accomodation had been taken at the Lizard because there is a big running event between there and Penzance tomorrow. I knew there was a bus back from the Lizard. I did a bit of road walking to catch up on time but did the last 5 miles to the Lizard which was very special. I felt like I was walking on an island as the landscape became very bleak. The National Trust graze special cattle from Ireland over the grass and heather and there was an abundance of very small colourful flora such as can survive the wind and rain. The cliffs were wonderful and closer to the Lizard a few wild beaches. On the cliff I saw newborn cormarants with gulls looking like it is all about to happen. I had to walk very fast to catch the bus back to Mullian. It was reassuring to find I can still walk fast if necessary. Mullian is a sweet little village with 2 pubs, a Spar, and Anglican, Methodist and Catholic churches. It seems appropriate that there was a live band playing in the pub where I ate and a load of guys dancing to Elvis' music in a private house as I walked home. It all seemed to fit appropriately with the death of Michael Jackson which happened last night.

I'm glad we killed a few miles yesterday by walking to St. Michael's Mount. It was cloudy and sultry all day though the south east wind freshened things up. Where is the south west wind which I was looking forward to being behind me from now on. The views looking back to St. Michael's Mount got better and better. As we approached Perranuthnoe Mary got very excited for we saw and then walked past the house which used to belong to her mother and where they spent August each year for family holdays. The house has been tarted up but still has the same name but the big difference was that one of the 2 fields in front had completely erroded away. There was a lot of errosion all the way today except for the granite section. In fact the rocks kept changing. At Prussia Cove we came across some lovely clifftop properties. From a man who appeared from one of them we discovered that he was one of a large group who had rented the lot for a week to celebrate a friend's wedding. We had tea at Praa Sands and then walked another 2 1/2 hours to Porthleven. One of the highlights was meeting 2 Buddhist nuns on a pilgrimage to St. Michael's Mount. They were sleeping out in bivvy bags and since they don't touch money relied on gifts of food which seemed no problem. They walked in brown habits with wide brimmed hats to cover their shaven heads. They were very friendly, young and fresh looking and said we should visit their monastries in Sussex and Berkshire. The last stage to Porthleven was very tough but we ran to catch the bus back to Penzance as we saw it sitting there about to leave. It was at this point that Mary needed to get her day ticket out of her purse. Everyone waited patiently as we went through the contents of her bag several times but the purse was not there. The bus driver gave up on the ticket and drove on. We went over our movements since Mary had paid for tea and could only hope she had left it in the cafe rather than it being somewhere on the 3 1/2 mile stretch of footpath. We got off the bus at Praa Sands and were thankfully reunited with the purse which had been carefully looked after. We had a celebratory drink and got the next bus into Penzance. We had a lovely fish and chip meal at the very expensively priced though very famous and intriguing Admiral Benbow Pub. We are still celebrating the reunion of Mary with her purse sitting outside her B&B drinking whiskey and blogging away.

I was entertained to breakfast by Mary in her B&B which got me out of the Backpacker's Hostel where I am staying which is rather challenging. I slept with earplugs in last night with a law student from Prague studying in Nottingham above me. Mary and I walked the 3 1/2 miles to St. Michael's Mound whilst the tide was out and visited the impressive castle with its rich history. It is the most impressive position and once again the weather was fantastic though a little more windy. We got a bus back to Penzance, did some essential shopping for our visit to the Minnac Theatre later in the evening and visited the gallery and museum which houses artworks by the Newlyn and Penlee Schools of Painting. It was not exactly exciting and they put a charge on the visit which considering the London galleries are free was slightly galling since there was not so much to see. The Minnac Theatre is back at Porthcurno set in the most spectacular position with the audience looking out to sea. We had a well stocked picnic hamper with wine and arrived early to get good seats. For an hour we watched a stunning display of gannets diving out at sea. Sadly the show called The Greek given by students from the Central School of Speech and Drama was a huge disappointment. I passed Gavin Henderson on the steep steps but not to speak to and I suspect he was leaving to miss the second half probably worse than the first. No matter, it was fun to be there and whatever the show it is a must for anyone to have a chance to be there. There is a special bus for people like us to catch back to Penzance. It was a very nice day and Mary was excellent company as always.

The open top bus was very full taking us back from Penzance to Porthcurno - it had broken down so was very late. There was not a cloud in the sky which was the case for almost the whole day. The weather is always a feature, of course and at the moment it is challengingly hot. On days like this, the bus is packed with people going to populate the beaches and not people to walk 12 miles along the coast path. On this journey I walk regardless. We took a full hardy risk leaving Porthcurno with only a packet of Jelly Babies and a Snicker Bar being uncertain of what lay ahead by way of refreshment. As it turned out we were seriously stretched by the challenge of the walk and there being no watering holes at all until 5pm at Lamorna Cove. Penberth Cove with its 3 fishing cottages was delightful as was St. Loy's Cove which is so sheltered it is a haven for serious garden lovers. The flowers were stunning. Apparently the daisies are more plentiful this year and have longer stalks ideal for daisy chain enthusiasts. The abundance of nature is breathtaking. Today wild fuchsias were a feature. The walk was a reasonable 12 miles but the nature of the majority of those 12 miles meant going was very slow. We were however determined to complete but by 8pm it was time for a drink and by 9pm time for supper so we did all those necessary things as part of the walk not completing until 11pm. We were completely exhausted but satisfied. Mary has brought a nice bottle of Laphroig whiskey so we finished the day gazing out to sea partaking of the wonderful potion.

St. Ives had been such fun, I was sad to leave. The open top bus took me back to St. just where I had an excellent breakfast of 4 rashers of bacon and 2 poached eggs on brown toast. The waitress however was totally charmless verging on the rude but then when I didn't buy into her mood it became faintly intriguing. I walked down to Cape Cornwall where Kaya and I had finished the previous walk and walked the 5 miles to Landsend. The weather was fantastic, hot and with a totally calm sea. I met a couple from the Czech Republic who walked with me for a bit but then went swimming at the last beach on the north Cornish coast called Whitesands Bay. The sands really were white and rather beautiful. I met 2 guys who said that basking sharks were just round the corner but I saw none. Landsend was ghastly. I paid £1.50 for a cup of tea next to the theme park where a family could enter for £24.75. It was however a significant moment for me not so much that it was Landsend rather the point at which I turned left. THe sun was now behind me and I was now going home. OK, it may be 700 miles, still to East Grinstead but at least now I'm going in the right direction. South Cornwall was immediately different with trees and abundant farmland. Up until Porthcurno it was pretty bleak but the small communities were full of converted properties into holiday or retirement homes. The beaches were beautiful as I ended my walk at Porthcurno. I caught the bus to Penzance where I met up with Mary Maddison who is joining me for a few days. We had a lovely Thai meal which with the whiskey she brought has made this blog rather late but evenings with Mary don't end up early but are always fun.

St. Ives is amazing. The only 2 things which irritate are the aggressive and noisy seagulls and the traffic which is not restricted from driving round the narrow streets. I'm writing this blog looking out to sea at 9.30pm as the tide pushes its way in on a mild equinoctrial evening made even better from a lovely day and good food. Kaya was here until 3.25pm when I went with her as far as St. Erth for her to catch the Penzance train to Paddington. It is a rather special train ride up the estuary, one which countless holiday makers and travellers have enjoyed as we did. Before she left we did a double pilgrimage - to Barbara Hepworth's garden and museum and to the Bernhard Leach pottery which also houses a museum. What an amazing place St. Ives must have been when all those great artists were inspiring each other. Generally artists go further when groups form, ideas can be exchanged, argued and wrestled with. There are lots of artists' studios now in St. Ives but I doubt they share things in the same way. Apologies but the tide is actually going out. This time last year, I was encamped in Stranraer where it rained very hard. Such things one remembers very well! Tomorrow I should be rounding Landsend which will of course be a landmark on this great adventure. Both my daughters remembered Father's Day, Jonathan is no doubt preparing for his first appearance at the Glastonbury Festival. Life goes on and so will the walk tomorrow.

The coast path was closed from Zennor so we stayed on the open topped bus for another mile where we had been told there was a nice pub. There we had a coffee and watched some of the 60 old Citroen front-wheel drive vintage cars passing on their day out. The landlord said to ignore the path closed signs from Gunnard's Head which we did. The National Trust had put up reasonably effective barriers but by no means impossible to get round. The path had obviously been closed for a while because it had overgrown but the water crossing was perfectly possible across stones - as for a bridge, I suspect there never was one! The walk was tough and therefore very slow thought not quite as tough as yesterday. The latter part of the walk was through tin mine country. There have been no working mines since 1990 so they have it open as a tourist attraction. The shafts go out under the sea. We got to Cape Cornwall where there was yet another chimney on the peak of the cape. I assumed it was a landmark monument but Paul, the landlord of the Commercial Hotel in St. Just said it was a ventilation shaft for the underwater mine. Paul had given us a lift up from the cape where he swims every day and informed us that the cape was the meeting point of the English Channel, the Bristol Channel and the Atlantic Ocean. St. Just is the last town before Lands End going my way. It had the air of being an outpost, lawless, a place where people liked living on the edge. As an old mining town I could imagine a sheriff trying to maintain order with cowboys riding into town. Sitting outside the Commercial Hotel as the new kids in town we watched as surfers chatted, a tractor passed at speed and the fire engine was being cleaned. Now we are back in St. Ives gazing at the pastel shades over the sea at the end of almost the longest day. Just before supper we heard the St. Ives Male Lifeboat Choir singing to a large group of people, some in fancy dress. It's Saturday again but not so outrageous here as last week in Newquay.

We had breakfast. We means me and Kaya, who is down for the weekend. We visited the parish church and then TATE St. Ives. It is housed in an impressive building which makes good use of the beach immediately in front of it. Inside the building, besides far too many primary school children, was a selection of sculptures by Barbara Hepworth and the primitive artworks of Alfred Wallis. Alfred was a local fisherman and rag and bone man who took up painting after his wife died. He had a huge influence on Ben Nicholson which started the whole St. Ives school off. The experience reminded me of last year in Kirkcudbright which, at the same time, became home to a school of artists mostly from Glasgow. The walk today was only seven miles to Zennor but it was very hard going. The beaches of St. Ives Bay gave way to a completely new landscape as we began travelling the last few miles before Lands End. It started deceptively easily but suddenly there were granite rocks everywhere, in the path and across the path. There were diversions because bridges were down as a result of floods but that was okay as it was a change to go inland. The only trees are now oddly shaped objects in valleys and sheltered spots but walking through them is like being in fairyland where you would not be surprised to see some elemental being pop out to take a look at you. I had previously felt the same in certain extreme parts of the west coast of Scotland. We had a bus to catch back to St. Ives from Zennor and wondered for a while if we would make it. Just before Zennor I had an experience I have not had the whole trip, that is of meeting someone I knew by chance. Michael Geeson-Barrow and his wife Lauren were walking to Zennor Head as we were walking from it. They are a musician and eurythmist partnership as are Kaya and I. It was a surreal experience. The sun shone all day. It continued to shine on us on the upper deck of the open-top bus which delivered us back to St. Ives in 15 minutes. It had taken us four and a half hours to walk!

I had enjoyed Perranporth and the lovely house with my interesting hosts. The bus journey on the 501 Western Greyhound bus service, which I have got to know well, took me to Portreath. I persuaded the driver, Robert, to drop me a mile and a half past the town to avoid a steep hill and a steep gulley - my map reading skills are now helpfully good! The next six miles were blissfully flat on the clifftop to Graveney Point so I could enjoy the abundance of plantlife, flowers and birdsong. On rounding the point, which was very busy with carpark walkers, there is a three-mile stretch of glorious sand in St. Ives bay with an abundance of surfing schools up to the River Hayle after which it was not far to St. Ives. I saw a throng of young people sitting relaxed and peaceful in the grass behind the large sand dunes. The only movement I could make out through my binoculars was the passing of an object which was placed in the mouth of the recipient before being passed on. With the sheep about the scene was positively biblical. I ate my pasty. I walked the stretch to Hayle half in the sand dunes and half on the beach, both of which were difficult. Kaya kept in touch on her journey from Paddington. She changed train for the last stretch from St. Erth to St. Ives up the west side of the estuary. I saw the train she was on as I was bussing down the east side of the estuary some 200 yards away. How frustrating! I was now in a hurry to get to St. Ives and was told that the number 18 bus would get me there but it was already 25 minutes late. I was in despair when along came the 501 Western Greyhound with Robert as this morning and he had me in St. Ives in 15 minutes. Kaya had already found a great place to stay. We have already explored a bit of the delightful town which we will use as a base for three days. There are a lot of saints about with extremely odd names. The parish church is called St. Ia and up the road was St. Eia.

I'm now on map12 of this year's adventure which takes me round Landsend to Lizard Point and will amount to 10 days of walking. In map terms, that means it probably covers the most coastline of all the maps and is therefore is best value. It will have taken about 100 o/s maps to cover this journey which has been a significant part of the budget at about £7.00 per map. Perranporth is exclusively a holiday town. However all around St. Agnus Head and along to Portreath, there are old tin mines. They are odd shaped with a tall three storey building with an even taller chimney attached. Some are dramatically close to the eroding cliffs. There was a strong military presence though they seem to have lost interest and I can't imagine the 2 airfields are much used now. St. Agnus Head, like Cape Wrath is a sharp turning point to the left. It had rained all the way there but when the rain was part of a very strong wind, it became less than comfortable. By that stage I had resigned myself to becoming soaked right through. The only thing to do is grip your teeth, put your head down and think of things like what an amazing experience to be experiencing! The National Trust cafe at Chapel Point which they own provided coffee and at least an open shelter and the opportunity to eat my daily pasty. After continuing in the rain for another mile, the sky suddenly cleared. Behind me was a wonderful picture to be had of black clouds being pushed over the clifftops. I fished in my wet pocket for my camera. Sadly, my fingers had become so numb that I could not operate the camera but I will forever remember the scene. I caught the bus back from Portreath to Perranporth drying gradually as I went, then spent a couple of hours cleaning myself up for Kaya's arrival in St. Ives.

I had done my homework on the tides and the ferry crossing across the River Gannel to Crantock and thus escape Newquay. It was a delightful day, an easy walk with fine weather. The forecast is bad, however, for tomorrow. It was a day of beaches, all splendid in their own way and offering loads of variety for anyone wishing to explore them. It was Crantock, Polly Joke and Hollywell before tredding cautiously around army property to the stunning Perran Beach which stretches for 2 miles and caters for everything. There is a nudist part at the remote north end, acres of space for joggers and horseriders, surfers, of course, swimmers and a family beach at the south end where the town of Perranporth lies. It was 6pm when I arrived so I had a pint of Cornish beer in the company of a miserable Yorkshireman drinking Somerset cider. My lodgings are in the best row of houses looking over the beach. My hosts are Pauline who teaches special needs children and her husband who is an archeologist and fishmonger. I dined excellently at the local Indian restaurant. Today, I met a husband and wife team both in their 60s who are presently walking the Southwest Coast Path but who have walked previously from their home in Lancashire to Rome and then again to Vienna taking 4 months. They are camping out but we shared stories of aches and pains!

I got a lot done today, the most important of which was to rest. I'm glad to have had some time to fathom Newquay. A brief conversation with the owner of the pizza bar where I dined tonight was the most illuminating. I commented that the coastline and the beaches were all stunning to which he commented that it was alright if you look out to sea but not when you looked at the town. I saw the weekend when hoards come in to have fun here. On Monday after 10pm all the people of Newquay come out to relax and have fun but without the costumes. I spent the morning planning ahead and making phonecalls when the weather was bad. I went to town for a Cornish pasty which is ample for lunch and a Costa coffee, then chilled out on Fistral Beach - one of the surfing beaches where I had a Cornish cream tea for £3.50 which didn't include tea which was an extra £1.75! Surfers are a new phenomenon to me. The truly dedicated ones have vans which they live in and travel to wherever the surf is good, then wait and watch. In sea, they look like tadpoles thrashing about looking out to sea, watching and waiting, flirting with waves, then trying one which may ultimately end up as a story. They walk to and from the beach as it were to a ritual always barefoot and if the sun is shining baring the most impressive upper-body physiques. Their quest is for an ultimate fuelled by magazines, pictures and films of other people's adventures. They seem to have no interest in anyone or anything else. There are people who find Newquay a place to settle. Those who wish to stay in the hostel over the winter can do so for £45 a week. I think it can be summed up as a town where anything goes!

I forgot to mention that with Graham driving me to Port Quin, we passed St. Endellion Church where Richard Hickox who sadly died earlier this year used to hold a music festival. The stag party did not disturb me until 5am this morning when the sound of snoring coming through the wall was a partial distraction. They were gone by the time I got up at 8am (or were they still asleep) to catch the bus back to where I finished yesterday which was actually Constantine Bay. Revisiting it today in very hot sunshine was like visiting any beach in Spain or Greece except for one important thing - the North Cornish beaches are probably better. I asked a lifeguard for some sunscreen since I had forgotten mine and he gave me a whole tube curtesy of Boots. It was a wonderful walking day though I did not climb the steep steps down to the beach at Bedruthan. I saw more corn buntings and delighted once more in the silent flight of the fulmer. When I got to the 3 mile Watergate Beach I knew what was going on. The zag cat championships had been flagged up in the local news. What I had not predicted was that I would arrive just before the finals which of course I had to watch. Skip, a Royal Marine zag catter, explained all about the sport which is quite dangerous though exciting. 2 men are in a rubber speedboat which have to ride the waves out to sea, then back the other way in a circle. I have a feeling a similar event happned in Scarborough 2 years ago but the fog was so thick that no one could see what was going on. I also remembered that the hairy caterpillars I keep seeing which can really irritate the skin were in epidemic proportions beyond Hull also 2 years ago. I'm having Thai food again but in a different resaurant recommended by the hostel warden. I wanted to say earlier some comments in praise of so called Independent Hostels. They provide both tea and coffee and the £17.50 includes breakfast of cereal and toast. The wardens make a huge effort ot make one welcome and be helpful. It encourages people to chill out but the flipside is that some layabout. Back to the restaurant I witnessed the aftermath of men bringing back Thai girls and trying to make sense of it all. The restaurant is the nearest thing to home for the much younger ladies and rekindles the excitement for him - I suppose. I'm having a day off tomorrow - the first after 2 weeks of hard walking.

I was staying in Padstow with a landlady of 30 years experience. There is a breakfast sequence. As soon as you enter the breakfast room there's the question of whether you want tea or coffee which arrives annoyingly half way through eating cereal along with toast which I always thought was best hot. By the time you eat the toast and drink the coffee, both are cold. Come 10am the mood of the landlady changes from being perfectly nice to totally unforthcoming as she turns on the hoover and washing machine. She is no longer to be seen but sure enough she is spying on you from somewhere waiting for your departure. I quit Padstow with a fresh pasty for lunch which took 2 sittings to eventually get through! I went to visit Prideau Place but it was closed though the effort meant I could cut across through flower-clustered lanes and save a couple of miles. There were lovely beaches up to Trevose Head especially Mother Ivy's Bay. The walk was kind to my arthritic right knee which I am now resigned to. I now walk in a way which protects it - which basically means going slower and far more carefully, but if the left knee follows suit - what then? Constantine Bay faces the right way for surfers. I watched for a bit but wouldn't call it a spectator sport. I had wanted to stay at the youth hostel in Treyernon Bay but they were full with a group booking so caught the bus into Newquay where I have a room at Matt's Surfing Hostel. The bus journey could have been 10 miles but it must have covered 30 and took 70 minutes going round the villages and Newquay's new commercial airport. I am on the top floor of Matt's hostel which claims to be the original surfer's hostel begun way back in 1995. I am sharing the top floor with 8 young men who I met dressed up for a stag night. I took their group photograph on each of their cameras provided they didn't disturb me later - we'll see! Going into town for an excellent Thai red curry I cam across several large groups of men on stag nights dressed as convicts, pirates, etc and quickly learned that Newqauy is the stag capital of the west country as Newcastle is for the north east. The Cardiff girls go to Liverpool and the Glasgow girls to Lanzarote! It's a far cry from walking alone around the coast getting excited about hairy caterpillars on the path and the corn buntings in their breeding grounds on the clifftops. Funny event of the day was waiting to get a cup of tea at a beach cafe. The lady in front of me asked if she could have a burger without the burger. The burger man rightly translated this as meaning that in fact she wanted a plain roll.

I bade a grateful farewell to Ciddles and went with Graham back to Port Isaac which is delightful. I bought a Cornish pasty for lunch and persuaded Graham to drive me round to Port Quin to save almost 3 miles of hard walking. This was demanded by my right knee which continues to be very dodgey. I've reduced Rucksack by nearly 3 kilos which makes it very managable. Graham has promised to look after Brolly for 16 days - this is not her terrain though just by chance it started to rain a little just as I started walking. I met a lady in very bad shape saying goodbye to her walking partner. She had done the same walk from Bude and was finally having to give in because of her right knee! Port Quin is a small community where all the houses are holiday lets. Sometime ago all the men of the village drowned at sea so the bereaved families all simply left. Just out of the village sitting alone on the clifftop was a Victorian Gothic pile which could have been mistaken for a church. It was built by a gentleman as a private and remote retreat for gamblers. The walk got better and better around Rame's Point as did the weather as I came upon one of Cornwall's great playgrounds - Padstow Bay. After crossing Polzeath Beach where the tide was out, I rang my daughter Alys as she like many others has enjoyed surfing holidays here. I was able to walk along the sands up the Camel Estuary to the ferry crossing between Rock and Padstow. This was the first of many ferry crossings to come. I found a B&B then dined out with a few seagulls watching me eat a Rick Stein's cod, chips and mushy peas whilst sitting on the thing which boats are tied to. Rick's takeaway cost £7.50 by far the most expensive I've had and not the best. There are several other Rick Stein eateries in town plus a small Jamie Oliver presence, loads of other restaurants, pubs and expensive shops. The place is heaving with young people and this is beofre this year's crop of fun seeking school leavers arrive. I should be through their territory before the deluge.

It was very comfortable and Ciddles and Graham's house but I woke early and could no longer sleep. Basically, reality struck. After yesterday's difficult walk with a heavy pack and the physical cost, I finally saw the light. Ditch the heavy contents of Rucksack or I won't make it round the north coast of Cornwall. We talked of it over breakfast. Graham and Ciddles have a daughter who lives on a boat near Falmouth. They will deliver the grossly underused camping gear there before I get there in 16 days time after which the terrain is much easier. What a hugely valuable amount of help I have had recently. Roy and Jane got me through from Hartland and Ciddles and Graham from Boscastle. I visited the information centre in Boscastle which like everything else there is very new and most interestingly learned that Thomas Hardy had done his courting here. The weather was good and so too was the walk, though wickedly difficult. The forst stop was Tintagel where I had a coffee and looked at loads of people being National Trusted about King Arthur. The walk then to Port Isaac was about 9 miles initially punctuated by large numbers of mostly middle-aged German walkers. Trebarwith Strand was the first and best beach after Tintagel and very busy. I could not resist a Cornish cream tea - my first. Tregardoch Beach was harder to get to and greyer from the slate cliffs but magically remote. Before Port Isaac there were no less than 4 river crossings at sea level with their accompanying ascent and descent. It took me 9 hours to cover 14 miles at the end of which I was a wreck. Graham picked me up and we went back to Boscastle for the most excellent fish pie and Co-op white wine (my contribution).

I'm on schedule but I have had to loose a day off in order to be in Boscastle tonight. I shall probably need to loose some other days off to keep to schedul for 2 main reasons, the miles are very long on this Cornish coast and I am slower. Jane and Roy dropped me at Dizzard where we made fond farewells. I could not find my way back onto the coast path so had to walk round to Treshorn. The walk to Crackington Haven was beautiful but tortuous. Coffee and a cake in Crackington was relaxing in the sunshine but overpriced in a beach bar whose ambience could have been anywhere in Europe. The other side of the river by the hotel was more Cornish Liberal Democrat and probably cheaper, though I didn't go to find out. What I did find out was that the next 1.6 mile took me almost an hour and a half. I saw feral goats on the cliffs. The weather looked like the forecast of heavy rain so seeing High Cliff before me, I took to the road. I lost my concentration and went an annoying mile further than necessary, then got back onto the coast path a country mile before Boscastle. I had expected to be able to walk a few miles further but it was already past 6.30pm and I was expected by Ciddles and Graham who are hosting me for 2 nights. Ciddles is my first wife's father's brother's daughter. I had met her again at a family funeral in Cheltenham earlier in the year and arranged the visit. Boscastle is all new after the devastating flood of 4 years ago. The little river that runs through to the delightful harbour so innocently has the hugest and most impressive fortifications around it. The walk tomorrow is supposed to be easier and will take me past Tintagel.

We shared sausages for breakfast, the remainder which I had for lunch. I asked Jane if we could have roast chicken as a special treat which she agreed to so I bought one in Bude with Roy as part of our shopping trip which was hilarious. We went into a shop called Roes which reputed to sell everything for life. We were looking for new walking poles but the lady said they had none. Six feet away was a mannequin holding a walking pole discovered by Roy at half price after which we found another 2. We ended our shopping spree with coffee and overpriced carrot cake before Roy deposited me at Combe Valley. The 4 miles to Bude were relatively easy after the first climb. Before Bude were class loads of young people being thrown down steep cliffs on ropes. In Bude were other classes on surfboards. The weather was kind today. At Millock the hills started but by then I had made friends with my new poles which had restored a great deal of confidence in me and the possibility of being able to carry on. Jane and Roy picked me up just before Dizzard, a name well known on the south west coast path as a killer and is where I shall start tomorrow with Rucksack. The chicken was delicious, accompanied by more vegetables than ever I have seen on one plate. Andrew was up at 5.30am to go milking. He came in at 8pm for 10 minutes to change, went out for a meeting, came back to eat his chicken for 10 minutes, then raced out to the pub for a council event. Louise had A level exams today whilst Hannah played Tchaikovski on her violin. I rejoice that 2 proper sticks can make this project possible. A someone who is definitely not a dog person, it has been an experience getting to know a giant German shepherd dog who knows no bounderies. He came into my bedroom to wake me up and then crashed into the bathroom as I was doing what one expects to do alone.

Jane drove me from her house to Hartland Quay to start today's walk. It was something of a test as my knee was worryingly weaker. Ranuph Fiennes said apparently when he went up Everest to an interviewer that all you can do is keep plodding. I did this today walking a few miles around the coast path but then when it started raining moving on to the adjacent road. I could not face being attacked from below and sludging through mud on the coast path and was pleased with the decision. There are still just as many hills going by road but there are rich rewards walking through ddelightful villages going into churches, past farms and lots of holiday homes. I went through a village called Welcombe, went to the church which now has a female priest and visited the one shop I met all day which was a pottery. The potter was potting away and commented that out of a hundred homes in the village, 30 are holiday homes and this number is increasing. I went down a steep slope and over a river at Gooseham Mill where Christopher Cadbury of the chocolate family recognised it as a special place and bought up lots of the valley which has led to it being as untouched as it is. When I crossed the river, I was in Cornwall but the rain persisted as I walked down to GCHQ Bude's impressive radar station. I forgot to mention that my second walking pole broke yesterday. I am now supported by a team of wood. Brolley, who is a single piece of hickory and therefore very strong but a bit short and in the other hand a staff of rather slender and springy hazel. Jane and Roy picked me up at GCHQ prior to hosting me in Jane and Andrew's very comfortable house inland from Bude with their 2 daughters, Louise and Hannah. I'm writing this blog in the company of a very large German shepherd dog called Tristan as everyone else has gone to bed except Andrew who is out playing darts.

I thought I was up early enough to get the 10.19 to Clovelly and therefore be on schedule. The bus went passed me 4 minutes early so I stood in the road and probably looked seriously disturbed waving my arms. He waited 4 minutes for me. That got me 3 miles up the road but also meant I had to pay £5.75 to get through the official entrance into the privately owned village of Clovelly. I watched an audio visual about the village, then wobbled down the cobbles to view the remarkable place where donkeys and sledges are the only mode of transport up and down the steep little streets down to the sea. The walk to Hartland Point was half tough and half easy with some splendid scenery. The weather was thankfully good today and very clear after all the rain. I could see 48 miles across from Hartland Point to Milford Haven, this being the mouth of the Bristol Channel. Lundy was high on the water which should mean a good day tomorrow. Today I fell in with Robert Stein who was walking from Minehead to Penzance covering an obscene amount of miles each day. He slowed down to walk with me for 4 miles and then excused himself. We were going down a very steep slope to sea level through armpit high ferns when he fell. This made me feel quite good since he had only just graduated from university in civil engineering but then I fell and learned what it was like to be an upturned beetle. Highlight of the day was the view at Hartland Point when the weather was at its best. I telephoned Roy Cakebread who was to meet me 3 miles further on at Hartland Quay. His patience was tested as I hobbled to our meeting point 45 minutes late. His daughter, Jane, drove us back to her and Andrew's house at Whitstone, near Bude. I now have 3 nights of comfort and 2 days of no pack which will be bliss.

I was supposed to make Clovelly but am 4 miles short after a horrendously bad weather day. It rained for the whole walk. It also rained a lot last night but stopped whilst I packed up. I had a large cooked breakfast in Appledore's excellent Royal George Hotel where Barry, the very caring landlord looked after me. The children from the campsite were enjoying the sea being pulled along by a motorboat but they must be well fed up by now. It was now raining hard so a kind man at the bar offered to drive me all the way to Clovelly - it was hard to decline but I did and set off with Brolly aloft. The walk was much harder than I expected. The plants and grass hung across the muddy path full of water to attack my legs and before long I was soaked all over being attacked simultaniously from above and below. By 7pm I got to Buck's Mill, a delightful spot. Just above was a campsite which I reluctantly headed for and pitched up. The sky was clearing from the south west and the sun appeared producing a wonderful rainbow against the black sky. And so I have spent the evening warming up in the shower, drying as much as possible and entertaining myself to a 3 course supper of miso soup, half a sandwich, and 2/3 of a Mars bar. There is no pub or eating place for miles. Dave Thackerary is also camping here. He is doing the Southwest Coast Path raising money for Cancer Research. He has loads of blisters so is taking the day off tomorrow.

I had a large breakfast adjacent to the large covered market in Barnstaple and quickly realised that something was going on in town. There were troops of school children walking about singing in various locations and a play being rehearsed in the old grammer school, a single room where John Gay of Begger's Opera fame was a pupil. They were celebrating the opening of a new Town Heritage Trail as part of the North Devon Festival which runs throughout June all over the place. It was nice to see the town with adults in Victorian costume. I visited the church and the museum which needs to update itself. The walk to Bideford could have been boring all along the old railway track but I met John Shellandine. I was watching a not unatttractive shepherdess trying to get her 4 sheepdogs to do what she wanted on the marsh when John walked up saying she was useless. His authority impressed me so I fell into step with him to discover he was at the latter stages of his 3 month walk from John O'Groats to Lands End. He was rather pleased to be telling me this until I told him what I was doing. Soon he was buying me tea at a wayside cafe to which he added a Kitkat on discovering that I had a buspass which of course he did not believe. John walks 25 miles a day on average so I guess he slowed down as we walked together to Instown. 60% of his trip he has camped but tonight he's paying £55 at an inn which I would never do. The camping however got to me and I resolved to definitely go to the campsite beyond Bideford and just short of the delightful Appledore to make ammends for the fact that so far this trip I have only camped 2 nights. In Bideford I sat on a bench for a rest and spoke to Margrete, a portait painter who told me to try the very excellent local icecream which I did. Just before the campsite by the beaches where masses of coccaine was found abandoned in 2001, my knee went and the sky darkened. I limped into the massive site where 80 children had just arrived for the weekend, got my tent up and then a lift into Appledore where I had a pint and then the most wonderful fish and chips sitting overlooking the sea undisturbed by the local seagulls. The children seem quiet now though I wonder who is the owner of the one sock lying in the shower and the t-shirt on the floor. I don't mind camping, of course, but I do mind and worry about my knee for which I would appreciate a miracle of some sort - any sort!

It was only a 5 mile walk today so I got up in a leisurely fashion enjoying a breakfast of kippers before leaving Ilfracombe. A new pair of socks had arrived by post at Nick's shop courtesy of Itchy Feet who by so doing become official sponsors! I invited Nick for coffee but he was not to be torn away from his customers of which he seems to have plenty. He sells everything from pants to plants for which he needs his sanguine temperament. There have been questions asked about Brolly. She has been a solid partner throughout the trip so I give her a lot of time out and carry her when not required. Today was another of those days when she peers out from above Rucksack and enjoys the view on yet onother sunny day. The walk into Barnstaple up the River Taw is shared with cycle path no. 31 and is entirely along a disused railway track. One cyclist passed me sounding her horn which sounded to me like an exotic parrot - she was amused that I was looking up as she passed. The path went along the north side of an army camp where the RAF keep one of 4 rescue helicopters on permanent alert for service over the southwest region. I found lodgings in Barnstaple easily and was all set up to explore the town when I passed the cinema where Start Trek was about to start. Fun to see sons of Captain Kirk and Spock embarking on an adventure together. I did explore Barnstaple afterwards and will visit a few places before setting off for Bideford tomorrow. Barnstaple had its heyday 400 years ago when it was a busy port doing business with the new world. I had a pizza in an Italian restaurant which was most appropriate as in the Times newspaper I learned that today is St. Francis Caracciolo's Feast Day and he is the Patron Saint of Italian Cooks. It was a good meal.

Nick, who was my contemporary at school, runs the family shop in Ilfracombe High Street, conducts the parish church choir, is a Rotarian and is on endless committees. Having a conversation outside his shop this morning was quite impossible as he had something to say to everyone who passed. The 31 bus was full of people going to the beach on a gloriously hot, sunny day. Woolacombe was heaving with frustrated surfers gazing at a completely flat sea and the elderly happy to sit in the sun or make tea in the row of beach huts. I swung my hazel staff along the edge of the incoming tide with only my day sack to carry along the 2 mile stretch of golden sand. I remembered playing frizzbee for hours with the Exon Singers on an afternoon off in 1970 or so, long before learning how to do it properly from a professional beach bum in California in 1985. I didn't go right round Baggy Point but cut through to the delightful village of Croyde, where I had a coffee and people watched. It could have been Ibiza with long haired hippy youths wandering about strumming guitars. Saughton Sands has a huge white 30's hotel which I was able to see all the way to Braunton. To get to Braunton meant walking several miles along the wonderful beach to the mouth of the estuary and then almost double back along several miles of seawall. On the map it says 'DANGER AREA' and all along the beach were heavy tank tracks in the sand from an exercise the Royal Marines had done a few hours earlier. It was on this beach that the Americans had prepared for the D-Day landings in WW2. I had a chat with a few leftover marines by their tank before they politely excused themselves for a meeting seated on chairs on the beach. There were a few middle aged sun worshippers but barely anyone as I turned into the large sand dunes and up the estuary. I was tired after 13 miles in the sun so caught the bus to Ilfracombe for my last night in John's house.

It was a wonderful week in Brittany. We had 14 good singers from London rehearsing music I had chosen from Byrd to Blue Moon. After the rehearsal for our concert last Friday, I heard that Tamsin, my eldest daughter had given birth to my first grandchild - a boy named Louis Jay. Everyone in the choir had been very involved in what was going on so it gave us good reason to sink a few bottles of champagne after the very fine concert. After returning to Plymouth on the boat, I was able to get a lift up to London and visit Louis yesterday. What a thrill to hold a 3 day old baby - it's been a long time. Afterwards, Kaya and I took the opportunity to do some shopping, most importantly for new walking shoes - pair number 7. I got the train from Paddington to Barnstaple where John Pedlar met me to drive back to Ilfracombe by which time it was nearly 11 pm. John was 4 years my elder at school and is nearing the end of his active career as an Anglican priest as vicar of Bedford. We made a lot of music together at school through our common interest in singing. He was involved in founding the very excellent Exon Singers which still exist and which I sang with for some memorable summers way back. We had much to talk about which made it a late night and a late start today. No matter, I only had to walk 10 miles to Woolacombe and get a bus back for another night in John's empty three storey townhouse which he never uses. The walk was easy compared with the Exmoor stretch. The sun shone throughout the day and there was no wind. There were very clear views of Swansea and the Gower Penninsula and then Lundy Island. Two canoeists were just setting off to paddle the 18 miles from the delightful Lee Beach to Lundy which they reckoned to do in 4 hours. It was 3pm and the tide was just turning which apparently was the best time for them to start. I met a walker who was going the other way. trying to find a gentleman with a beard who he was shadowing in his car as he walked from John O'Groats to Lands End. There were a lot of people out walking mostly with few clothes on, the weather being so hot. Woolacombe was familiar to me with its golden sands which I shall walk tomorrow at the start of a 15 mile walk to Barnstaple. Having a house to myself, I got food from the Co-op and had an evening in Ilfracombe. A wonderful day enjoying a wonderful stretch of coastline.