Almost two months has passed since I was in Cornwall last and I can barely remember the details of the next three walks so they will be short.

I’m up bright and early this morning and certainly not the only one. Large groups of young children and teenagers are being herded across the beaches leading out of Newquay (how many beaches can a coastal town have?). Rallying cries fill the air for kayaking, surfing and sandcastle competitions – screams of excitement follow me up the road.

……..and a little later on the cliffs need shoring up ……………………………………………………………..

…………another beautiful beach…………still not out of Newquay yet………………………………………

…..but all is not perfect in paradise – what the hell CAN you do?!!

Eventually I feel I’m out of Newquay and on my way to somewhere else…………I walk out to the head, round it and back down to yet another beach (am I beginning to sound weary?)

 

I am now looking back at Tregurrian Beach, – a glorious sweep of golden sand leading up to the village of Mawgan Porth. I haven’t been able to walk on the sand as it’s difficult to climb back up the cliffs at the northern end but instead taken the path across the top of the cliffs.

The path now winds up and down passing through Fox Hole, around Stem and Griffen Point followed by the more prosaic Berryl’s Point.

 

A plane from Newquay Airport appears in the sky, breaking the silence…………………………

…………and a throne for some ancient Celtic King …………………………………

…………….and in the distance, the coastal village of Mawgan Porth where I hope to get some lunch.

Finding a cafe I am joined by someone equally hungry who, despite my protestations  continues to glare enviously at my sandwich. I remember the recent story of a little boy losing his ice-cream to a seagull.

Leaving Mawgan Porth I head up onto the cliffs – for such a beautiful day, the path is strangely deserted. Sea stacks tower above the waves.

It is an easy walk along the top of the cliffs until I reach Parc Head……………………………….

This beautiful herringbone wall catches my eye and I meet walkers for the first time.

From the top of the next descent I see a group of people busily re-arranging stones on a grassy mound raised up from the beach – I am curious.

As I get closer I realise it is a stage for small cairns that people have built………………………

It’s a small sculpture park – some of them are quite ingenious………………………………………

I add my own…………………

Like sentries guarding the cove – what a lovely idea…………………………………………………………..

I am by now getting a little tired but I don’t have that far to go – I pass a collection of large black rocks, the waves blasting the tops of them and cascading down ………………..it is mesmerising.

……..and around the next corner is Porthcothan Beach, my destination, and where the real trouble starts.

After a well-earned ice-cream in the only cafe on the beach I pay my 20p for the toilet and head up the road to where I believe I can get a bus to take me back to my BnB six miles away.

At the top of the hill (strange no-one waiting at the bus stop?) I am told that because the bridge at Porthcothan has collapsed there are no buses and I have no signal on my phone to call a taxi.

Soooooooo……what to do? As luck would have it, there is a car parked nearby whose owner now returns and asks if I would like a lift! This lovely young girl is an aspiring marine biologist who goes out of her way to drive me back to Mawgan Porth where I believe I can get another bus to take me home.  Arriving back in the village I walk back and forth between two bus stops, neither of which convince me that there is a bus at all and after a few fruitless enquiries I am beginning to feel a little despondent. But lo and behold I am rescued again when a black 4×4 pulls up and a woman jumps out asking if I would like a lift. She had apparently been watching my progress and taken pity on me. Hurrah! I spend the journey learning about surfing from her chatty (pretty unusual) teenage son and daughter.

All’s well that ends well……

Distance: 12 miles