Sunday 04th June 2000 - Day two, Crantock to Perranporth Prev Next

I woke properly at 06:50 which is a very good nights sleep for me, wrote my log, then after changing back to walking clothes went for a shower. I took it easy getting going but after a breakfast of pasta and mushroom soup I was underway after saying goodbye to the cyclists.

In Crantock is the Crantock Round Garden that has been given to the National Trust and believed originally to have been a pound for animals that strayed from the local common. Nowadays it is ringed by hedge and trees that enclose an open area of grass with a bench, and forms a very pleasant secluded resting place. It also makes a roundabout in the centre of the village although it is not used as such.

I picked up the coast path again and followed it down to the beach car park and up the other side. At the top of the rise it opened out into sand dunes and it is not clear which of the many paths to take. Shortly after it went into a little maze of hedges and paths, the coast path keeps away from the National Trust property and dunes. After the maze the path becomes much more obvious as it rounds the headland and gently drops down to Porth Joke. Before rounding the headland however the sun had come out and I changed into my shorts and applied a liberal covering of coconut sun cream. If this sun kept up, I'd even get my floppy hat out.

All along the path were people out walking, some with dogs and some just having a Sunday stroll along the coast. A mountain biker cycling along the path startled me as I walked down to the beach at Porth Joke. I had to do one of those climb halfway up, flip the middle, turn and down manoevers to get through a livestock gate.

The stream at Porth Joke is crossed by a three plank wooden bridge with no handrail. Down on the beach fathers were chasing children and building dams for the stream, and mothers were getting out beach towels to lie on in the sun. The climb out begins with a short steep rise then more gentle paths up and round Kelsy Head where ornathologists were viewing the birds on a rocky outcrop called 'The Chick'. Sea pinks and yellow flowers abounded and did indeed colour the cliffs the colour of rhubarb and custard as described by Mark Wallington in '500 mile walkies'.

The walking was very easy and the crowds thinned, the sun shone and in contrast to the day before, life was good. Further on a few pops of distant rifles could be heard from Penhale Camp. Then I reached the dunes of Holywell. On the southbound journey it is not at all clear where the coast path goes so I picked my way through the dunes and followed dutch ladders where I saw them. At one place a couple of blokes were playing boule - or long distance boule going from one dune to the next. At the stream the coast path is again clearly marked and gives a better direction going north. The dunes at Holywell are popular and here, as at Porth Joke, more fathers chased more children and built more dams whilst more mothers soaked up the sun.

The next few miles are marked by the military training camp of Penhale Camp and sands. A large red notice informs that walkers are permitted to walk the coast path providing they keep to the coast and do not venture inland. The path is fairly well marked with posts once I got past the first rise. Luckily three other walkers were coming the other way at this point and so showed me the path which went next to some aerials. You have to follow the coast faithfully which means going in and out with the bays, and steep cliffs are not far away sometimes. At one point you are guided to walk between two wooden fences and after that there are notices that inform you that it is a troop training area and not to touch any metal objects that may explode and kill you. Just after the 'fence walk' was a deep valley that was cliff edged. An abseiling instructor and four pupils were preparing to descend - rather them than me.

Around the last major headland on this stretch Perran Beach came into view. I stopped and had a pasty for lunch. Shimmering in the distance was Perranporth. All along the beach tiny dots of humanity were doing their thing. Although the beach was 2 miles long, people were walking it from end to end. Luckily at this time the tide was out which meant I could walk the beach rather than have to take the tops of the dunes which looked like harder work. I did a bit of idle beach combing as I walked along but there wasn't anything of interest to see, anything that might have been of foreign origin had the labels washed off so I walked further down the beach where the sand was firmer.

Steadily Perranporth came closer and I stopped to check the map near to the lifeguard hut to be sure I was following the path. Almost overhead a chap was on a paraglider, floating on the updraft from the cliffs, sometimes still and just hanging in the air, sometimes going gently back and forth. The sea breeze was steady and there were some kites up. I was able to walk past Cotty's Point because of the low tide - at high tide the water comes up to the cliffs and you have to go over the top. Near the end there are caves and as birds flew around their cries echoed round the rocks.

Perranporth itself was busy and I looked at a map in the information centre to find a camp site then thought about some food. There were plenty of fish and chip shops, and a Spar. My quest for something cold and fizzy to drink was satisfied by the latter, something hot and greasy by the former. The lad in the fish and chip shop was new to the job and he interpreted my two sausage and chips as sausage and chips twice, much tutting from the owner as she cancelled the till, then he did two sausage and large chips rather than their special offer of small. We got there in the end and I sat on a bench in the sunshine gazing over the holiday throng and the sea whilst munching heartily.

Refreshed I went off to find the nearest campsite which is located up a residential road just past an old chimney that seems left over from the mining days. A pitch for the night at Perranporth Camping and Touring Park was £4.50 for the night. The park was almost empty and I pitched the tent on a flat terrace overlooking the hill opposite and a few fixed caravans. There where one or two stones in the ground but that wasn't as much of a problem as the breeze that resulted in me setting up the tent with a distinct lean to starboard. I was very tired and shut my eyes for over an hour once the tent was up. The walk had been a bit further than I planned for the first day but I had to get past Penhale. I had a headache, my left hip was sore and I had bruised my collarbones from the rucksack, but I was set up for the night and these things would get better in time. It was a timely reminder that I still had to take things easy and not overdo things at the start of the walk, possibly spoiling things later.

The showers, toilet and wash facilities were all in different buildings which is unusual, but they were all clean and worked. The shower blasted me against the back wall when I turned it on and like one of those power wash things that you get at garages for cleaning cars - it just stripped the dirt off. I recommend shower number two, it's powerful and hot - 20p a go. Back a the tent I devoured another pasty, wrote my log thus far and as the light faded read a bit more of Travels with Boogie (500 miles) to get some idea of his experiences on the next stretch before the sun faded completely.

Next page, Day three, 05th June 00, Perranporth to Porthtowan.

Previous page, Day one, 03rd June 00, Newbury, Plymouth, Newquay, Crantock.

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