Wednesday 12th June 2002 - Day five, Gorran Haven, Mevagissey, St Austell Prev

It's habit, I woke early again but nodded off almost immediately. One thing that I have noticed around the edge of Cornwall is that nothing moves before seven O'clock. This seems like a generally good idea. At half seven I started packing my bag ready to make a good start on the day.

I went down for breakfast and a place had been set but no one was around. Nevertheless I got myself an orange juice and a bowl of fruit and fibre. The landlady appeared and conjoured up a huge fried breakfast to set me up for the day.

Once I had finished I collected my rucksack, paid the £20 for the night and headed for the path. On the way out the landlady told me that it was Dawn French filming in Portloe and that they had modified buildings to look like a pub and a grocers. A grocers! Somewhere in the back of my mind I felt that I just might have been duped.

The morning was pleasant with some sun and cloud as I ground up the hill out of Gorran Haven in first gear, choke out, engine revving. Well, my legs were working hard anyway. I don't like to start by walking straight up a steep hill but sometimes it has to be done. The lane out of Gorran Haven was lined with hedges that had fucia, honeysuckle and a dozen other wild flowers as well. At the top of the lane the path crosses to a stile and I went along the edges of fields. Before I started I dug out and put on my gaiters because the grass was wet from the rain that had come down the previous day and evening.

The path followed field edges and meandered a bit as it worked its way towards Portmellon. At Portmellon the walking is made relativley easy on pavement and road. Then I climbed up and out of Portmellon, passed a sign at the top of the hill saying Mevagissey, and began the long descent down into Mevagissey. On the way I passed a couple getting out of a car who were dressed for a days walking and as I passed I heard the chap say, sotto voce, 'There's one of those coastal walkers' to his wife. They caught up with me and we chatted briefly. I think he was very excited to talk to someone who was actually walking the path end to end, albeit in bits.

Down in the centre of Mevagissey things were congested with traffic. The streets were never designed for cars and it was almost gridlocked as people tried to go their different ways. It was so narrow that it even gridlocked for pedestrians. I couldn't see which way to go because like in many of these little villages, the buildings are high and close, and you loose all bearings but they do give the place a very unique air.

I adopted a keep right policy which to my surprise worked and I climbed the slope and steps out of Mevagissey. Beyond Mevagissey things definitely undulated and meandered which did not make for very quick progress. I approached Pentewan and saw a large caravan park behind the beach, and a steep descent down. It was painful for my feet as the path went crossways across a steep slope and my feet slipped hard against the end of my boots and my ankles twisted to cope. I negotiated a field of disinterested bullocks (no problem) then walked next to the road around the back of the caravan park. I stopped in Pentewan for a drink and bite to eat for refreshement and it started to rain. I decided that keeping the gaiters on would be a good idea although the rain didn't last long.

The path out of Pentewan follows up the steep road initially, then doubles back to the church and goes in between peoples houses before veering off to the left to continue along the field edges and cliff tops. Unfortunately I missed the left veer first time and ended up on the beach with nowhere to go.

Out of Pentewan the path went around fields of sheep, backwards and forwards, up and down, it was very frustrating. I could see Black Head but it was taking a long time to get there. Periodically my legs got completely soaked from the long overhanging grasses that were waist high in places.

After another walk down but this time in woodland followed by a climb out the other side I arrived at Black Head. Opposite the path that leads out to the head itself is a large stone erected and dedicated to a local poet. I thought this would be a good place to have lunch and tucked into my chicken slice and crisps that I had bought earlier. It was as I started these that it began to rain as though it meant to carry on, so I put on cagoule and the rain hood onto the rucksack, then finished my lunch. The rain made the grass wet again and the path slippery. This is the pattern that the weather seems to have adopted over the last few days, start well, a quick sprinkle of rain, wait a while then rain properly.

As I continued I seemed to be going either up or down and my right knee was feeling sore. It didn't help when I slipped on some wet stones and did all sorts of contortions to stay upright. The path briefly popped out onto a road and then reverted to field edges, down 128 steps and up another 90. Yes, I was counting them. There wasn't far to go to Charlestown but I was tired and obviously not fully recovered from the previous days exertions.

Down at the bottom of some of the dips the path was very muddy indeed and there were plenty of boot prints which showdd that a lot of people were walking these bits. At Lower Portpean it wasn't wholly clear where the path went and I followed a track that was beginning to get choked with Japanese Knotweed. I retraced my steps and spotted a family coming from the opposite direction. I watched where they went and found the path at the far end of the sea defences next to a sign saying 'Danger - falling rocks'.

Things were now very much more organised and walking straight forward although my right knee was getting painful and wouldn't take too much more. I walked past a historic gun battery that was walled off, then emerged into Charlestown that was thick with visitors. This is were I was to complete the walk this time.

Up the street was a lorry, crane and fork lift truck and they were either trying to load or unload some big old sailing ships masts. I walked to the station in St Austell buying an ice cream on the way and finally taking my gaiters off. It was a long walk to the station which I must bear in mind, but not as far as the walk earlier to Gillan Harbour. At the station I had a hot bacon roll, then wrote up some log as I waited for the 16:57 to take me home.

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

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