Sunday 29th October 2017
6 miles today, 55.35 miles in total.
This may be the toughest day so far because of the accumulated leg strain. My preferred route is to Crantock via the SWCP but that will mean walking across sand dunes as well as the usual undulations of the coastline. My knees are quite swollen this morning so I’m considering the longer and less interesting places road route.
Update at 5pm. I avoided the coast path and walked in almost a straight line on nice footpaths, saving at least a third on mileage.
On the way I discovered the village of Cubert with an ancient church being refurbished,
and a plaque on a house in Wesley Street commemorating a visit by John Wesley to the village.
I also found a farm with ostriches/emus/something flightless,
and a lady coming the other way who was struggling more than me and left me feeling quite fit.
On the way I wound my way through a copse of twisted-wood trees and a Pooh-sticks bridge over a clear stream where I half expected to find tokens tied to the branches. It had the feeling of a ‘thin’ place, and I was fascinated to find, as I came up the hill on the other side, a signpost pointing back to Holywell. I didn’t see any Cornish Piskies though. 🙂
I only walked for 3 hours, 6 miles, and Mr and I treated ourselves to a cream tea afterwards. I had enough leg power left to take the dog for a walk on the beach.
It was cold and blustery today, definitely not for standing still, and I got quite chilly once I’d stopped walking purposefully.
Our cream tea was in Perranporth, and we spent some time wandering around the town like tourists. One surf shop was like a like a mini-warehouse with surfboards, t shirts, buckets, spades and cut-price end of season wetsuits along with souvenirs galore – mainly beach-inspired ‘things’ to decorate your home. As we gradually worked our way towards the back of the very long shop there was a sudden commotion and a black bird (jackdaw?) flew past my head heading for the low sunlight shining through the window on the back wall. It hit the glass and fell to the floor, stunned. The shop owner, completely unfazed, simply picked it up and, ignoring the loud cawing protests, carried it back to the front of the shop and released it back into the street. “It happens occasionally” she said, in that very British way that always reminds me of the dinner scene from ‘Carry on up the Khyber’. (Until that point I’d been remembering a Hitchcock film.) The incident broke the ice and the customers started speaking to each other for about two minutes before we all moved on.
Today’s earworm, no doubt inspired by seeing the John Wesley memorial was Charles Wesley’s ‘And can it be’ with all the associations of freedom that holds for me.