Further Along The Coast Path

Aside of sore feet and a good dose of foul weather the last four days of hiking have been really good. The coastline has become more dramatic with the sections between villages having a wilder feel.

I packed up a wet camp in Porthallow after it rained most the night. The rain stopped early but I wasn’t sure for how long. I simply got my things together and got walking. It wasn’t bad at first but it didn’t look like things were getting better. By time I reached the old quarries outside of Rosenithon a blasting gale blew in sideways from the sea. I just kept my head down and tried my best to stay on track to the next village of Coverack.

By time I reached Coverack the weather started to pull back a bit but I needed a break. I asked a local for a café and he directed me to the Fat Mackerel. When I arrived at the empty cafe I was greeted by a warm fire and a nice young waitress. I ordered a full English breakfast and coffee. I have come to find that a full breakfast of sausage, bacon, egg, mushrooms, tomatoes, toast and baked beans adds up to an easier day of hiking and you won’t need lunch.

The weather improved quite a bit but remained unsettled as I walking into the village of Lizard and found a nice B&B run by a friendly couple with the husband being quite the character. I bought the beer and he bought the fried chicken and chips (French fries). He, a mid 60’s metals sculptor with items made out of goods acquired from a recycling center decorate the front yard with things that look good blowing in the wind. His pirate themed wood box contained roll your own cigarettes with a little something extra but I told him I only drank beer. In the morning he fixed me a huge full English breakfast.

Wind and mixed weather greeted me along the pleasantly lonely cliff top walk from Lizard to Porthleven. By time I arrived in the village the sun was full on. A nice swell was blessing surfers on the water front. I made my way to the village campground and pitched camp before finding a pint at a pub.

Porthleven was a brief taste of trail community as I met up with a young German couple who needed a campsite but had no idea the village had one. In town I noticed a single woman, who looked like a distance walker, sitting outside of the grocery store. I asked if she were walking the coast path. He said she was. I then asked where she was from and she said Nashville. I rarely, if ever, meet Americans hiking in England. A little while later her friend and a German guy showed up. The German thru hiked the Appalachian Trail last year. I told him I had hiked it in 1985. One of the girls said it was before he was born. They were all in their early 20’s. We swapped stories awhile before parting ways.

In the evening I met up with the young German couple again at the campground pub. The woman had recently lived in Amman, Jordan for 6 months studying and had also traveled in Israel. It was very interesting hearing about her time there and what her thoughts are on the current situation. Anyway, the twoseparate meetings reminded me of what it’s like to be on a long distance hike and meeting like minded folks doing the same thing. For one, I have met very few distance walkers during this hike. And two, nobody hikes the Southwest Coast Path the direction I am headed. In England, “On My Todd”, is an expression for being on your own. How appropriate.

The German couple suggested I go the Mousehole the next day. They also recommended I stay at a very inexpensive B&B run by a woman who has been catering to walkers for years and years so I barrowed their iphone and booked a night.

I’m happy I took their advice as the weather turned absolutely filthy. Blowing rain and wind blasted me the last 5 miles. When I arrived it was like showing up at grandmas. “Get your wet stuff off and I’ll wash your clothes, dry your boots, etc.” Edwina has been putting up walkers for over 50 years but this year is her last as she is working on a half open basis with the B&B on the market. Until the property sells she will not turn away walkers. Her personality is sharp as a tack and we enjoyed  good conversation. The room was very homey and I slept better than I have in a awhile. She sent me off the next day with a huge breakfast.

From Moushole the walking just kept getting better. More rugged yet dreadfully interrupted by the gaudy tourism of Land’s End, England’s most southerly point. Just beyond Sennon cove I climbed some steep steps to a campground catering to surfers and beach goer’s. The café serves up decent food at a very reasonable price.

Today, Friday, the hiking, although spectacular was shadowed by fatigue. For seventeen days I’ve been pushing along up and down muddy single track trail interspersed with the village and occasional road walk. It’s definitely been more physically demanding than I would have expected but that’s been kind of the appeal. It’s been a different kind of walk. In some ways I feel distracted by the physicality but oddly cleansed by it as well. It’s been a walk with mixed feelings that will ultimately equal a great experience in the end.

When I arrived in Zennon today I was feeling pretty wired with fatigue. The hostel no longer operates as a hostel. There is no camping aside of wild camping and it’s windy unsettled weather. I barrowed a phone to book a cheap B&B a mile away as I sat in a pub to write this post. Three more days and I will reach my goal of 300+ miles in 20 days of walking.