Monday 10th June 2002 - Day Three, Falmouth to Portscatho Prev Next

I woke early at about half past six but felt fully refreshed after a solid nights sleep. I listened but rain was not lashing the window. When I looked out I could see that it had been raining, there were dry spots under the cars where cats peeked out waiting to be let in for their breakfast.

I dozed for a while, read some more Tony Hawkes and his fridge, then packed my bag to leave as soon after breakfast as possible. My socks rinsed after Gillan wading were crisp and dry on the radiator. As I intended to stock up on food in Falmouth I left one of my one litre bottles behind. It was still dry as Ann the landlady bade me farewell advising to get in somewhere earlier rather than later because rain was forecast. I thanked her and determined to get to Portscatho as soon as possible and dispense with long breaks such as log writing en route.

I rejoined the path quickly and walked along the prom of the beach looking up at the leisure centre and Pendennis Castle on the point up ahead. Half way along was a peculiar structure of a tiny house built above the prom with a tunnel going through. Around Pendennis Point it is all tarmac pavement and makes walking very easy. At the tip is H.M. Coastguard seach and rescue control centre in a building overlooking the sea. I rounded the point and headed back to Falmouth town centre passing a dry dock with an Irish Ferries ferry being refurbished.

Back in Falmouth town centre I recognised the road that I had walked a couple of days previously so I knew where I was. I popped into a couple of bookshops to see if I could get a copy of 'Spike Milligans Mussolini: His part in my downfall', but without luck. I had a feeling that I was going to run out of reading material.

In Killigrew Street I popped into Tesco's to stock up on provisions, then went onto the pier opposite Killigrew Street to catch the St Mawes ferry. I purchased a single ticket for £2-70 and made my way to berth number 2 to wait for it. I had the opportunity to stuff all the food into my rucksack and drink some fizzy water before it arrived. I seemed to have done a little better in not bringing unnecessary items and therefore having a bit more space in the rucksack this time.

The crossing was a little rough as the boat had to go out a bit before it turned for St Mawes. I stood at the front and let my legs take care of the boats pitching and rolling whist I watched the horizon, this way I don't get seasick. I've found before that if I take my eyes off the horizon then I'm in trouble.

St Mawes castle is built across the harbour from Pendennis and was flying a french tricolour at half mast. There were lots of lorries and what looked like some sort of fire vehicle in attendance. I learned at St Mawes that there was some filming going on.

I needed to complete the hop from St Mawes to Place but the only thing that I could see was a boat tied up just outside the harbour with 'Place Ferry' written on the side which didn't bode well. Up on the dock I couldn't see anything like a Place ferry booking booth so I asked at the Falmouth ferry one. 'Here he comes now' the old salt said as the smallest boat that could support a cabin came round the harbour wall.

The ferryman was a pleasant enough chap and relieved me of £1-70 for the crossing whilst we waited to see if anyone else appeared, but they didn't so we set off. He warned me that the going was a bit choppy and I said that I had already experienced it on the Falmouth ferry. However being a smaller boat it rolled a bit more, quite alarmingly at one point but we made it OK. On the way over he told me that he hadn't seen any egrets this year although they were usually on the sandy flats.

On the far side he described which way to go, and pointing to a large and pretigeous dwelling called 'Place House', saying 'If the major invites you in for a cup of tea it'll be a first'. I followed his instructions and the path was easy to follow. Around the back of the house is an overgrown graveyard and quite by surprise I stumbled upon St Anthony church which gives this place its name. The path is well marked and I was soon following the coast again and making my way around St Anthony Head. Around here lots of stonechats stood on twigs high in the scrub bashing out their song.

Here also was the elusive lighthouse that I had seen from across the bay in my first nights B&B. I looked closely at the map and for the first time saw the lighthouse symbol buried under the viewpoint and National Trust markings. Just before the lighthouse the path doubles back and climbs steeply but is beautifully covered in tarmac as it climbs the hill. Near the top and the car park is the most well presented coast path sign that I have ever seen, neatly fixed to a tidy post, painted and lacquered. The National Trust certainly know how to keep things well.

The path briefly touches the National Trust car park then continues around the remains of an old fort. This fort is not quite Victorian because it was built in 1904. It had 1904 on one of the buildings to prove it. But it looked of that era with some of the buildings that are now inhabited cottages and old gun emplacements here and there. After this the path resumes its more normal wilder state through gorse bushes then following the edges of fields overlooking the sea. All of this was easy and straight forward walking.

Just before on beach was a white post with pegs on either side that could be used for climbing it. It was erected by the coastguard for the purposes of training and was designed to be like a ships mast so that they could fire rocket and line to it, tie it off and perform rescue.

Just south of Portscatho I saw a sign to Treloan camping but I wanted to press on a bit further. I was in Portscatho, my intended destination at a quarter past two and couldn't see a B&B sign anywhere. Looking on the map there were some hotels further on so I continued. The first hotel seemed very well appointed with sun loungers and a couple of chaps in the conservatory reading their papers. I thought it might be a bit expensive but nevertheless enquired saying that I was looking for bed and breakfast, at least I might get a pointer.

'I can do that' said the girl at reception tapping away on a calculator muttering something about single person supplement, 'but it'll be £157' showing me the calculator in case I suggested that I might have misheard her. She told me there was another hotel further up that I might try, or a farmhouse with a big B&B sign in Trewithian. I returned to the path and continued to where a footpath went up and next to the second hotel. In the car park were Mercs, BMW's, Freelanders and the like so I went straight on in search of the B&B.

Without going into great detail to cut a long two hour story short the first B&B was full, the second wasn't doing B&B at that time, the third had no vacancies and there wasn't anyone in to give me more ideas so I found myself entering Portscatho again from the other side on the top road. Oh joy of joys, there was a B&B and they had space so I wasn't going to have to go all the way back to the campsite and camp in the changeable weather.

The woman showed me the room at £22-50 for the night but said that she would have to make it up first because she wasn't expecting anyone to turn up and I had caught her by surprise. I had a hot bath while she sorted the room out. I then had some dinner from my morning purchases, wrote my log and rested my aching legs. I had done a couple of miles more than I had bargained for, I just hoped that I hadn't done too much damage before the next day when I wanted to make Gorran Haven.

The coverage signal for mobile phones in the room was not particularly good so I went out of the back of the guest house to make a phone call where the signal was better. As I was talking it started to rain and the landlady who was just going out found me an umbrella to keep dry under which was very kind and thoughtful. I really appreciated that.

Next page, Day four, 11th June 02, Portscatho to Gorran Haven.

Previous page, Day two, 9th June 02, Gillan Harbour to Falmouth.

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