Today we passed the 100 mile milestone (only another 1100 to go!). It was a day of two halves: we walked through fields and lanes for the first half, and then it was back on the coastal path. Our route took us through fields where farmers had decided to plough through the official paths, then through waterlogged fields which were tricky to navigate, and through woodland paths where streams had burst their banks. However, the weather was glorious and we arrived in Port Gaverne very muddy but grateful for a lovely lunch in the sun.

To say that the route from Port Gaverne to Trebarwith Strand is strenuous is an understatement! The guide book says it is a ‘demanding and challenging walk that is not for the casual walker’! The scenery is magnificent but we were pleased to finally reach our accommodation and a hot bath to allow our aching muscles to recover!

A Backward Glance

From Wadebridge we set off into the green labyrinth that is the Cornish countryside with King ‘Komoot’ leading the way. He took us across farms, peoples gardens, plowed fields and busy roads. Carol was beginning to loose confidence in his directions and I was beginning to appreciate his sense of humour, which crescendoed when entering a field with a lake sized puddle in it. Straight ahead for 800 feet he said without a hint of irony in his voice. The geese and swan looked as surprised to see us as we were to see them, but they looked a lot happier about the situation than did Carol. The AI guy was smartly turned off and when after about twenty minutes of splashing around mother goose and family I found a way out through deep undergrowth on solidish ground, Carol said something I’d never heard her say before “well done David”. We pushed on into Mordor where the distinction between path and stream was impossible to tell. Every crossing from one field into the next meant descending into a dirty ditch of squelching cow dung and mud and having to climb unassailable stiles. Then through thorn bushes slipping and sliding all the way, when suddenly without any warning, onto a beautiful green slope carpeted with daisies sprinkled with buttercups. It was like we’d stumbled into the very presence of Christ Himself and He could have been sitting there making daisy chains smiling at the arrival of His two weary travellers. A very happy place but feelings of guilt over various curses and angry indignation about the route needed to be confessed. His laughter was almost audible and my sudden urge to sing was rapidly picked up by Carol who preserved the moment by insisting we move on. As we moved out of that place I felt a heavy heart had been lifted from me, which had been a greater weight than the bag on my shoulders, and the friendly gaze of those daisies was on our backs all the way to Port Gaverne where lunch and a leisurely three mile coast walk to our lodgings awaited us. As usual I am right about some things but wrong about most. The lunch was good (though I did choke on a steak I was gobbling too quickly and a piece of meat caught in my throat – scary! I must get some lessons from my mate Otto who I’ve watched do the same but perfectly safely). However, the coastal walk was six miles and severe climbing up and down for four of them. Sheeeesh….