It was cold when I woke at 5am, so I ate porridge and packed up camp quickly. I set off at a reasonable lick arriving at Rocky Valley (inevitable monster staircases) and after an hour or so more rounded another stunning Cove to see Boscastle beneath me. Boscastle appeared to be another charming Cornish fishing village, but was not yet open for business to itinerants like me. For once though I had done my homework and knew there was a farm shop and cafe a mile or so up the hill and just off the path. Forty minutes of huffing and puffing up another steep hill and I was sitting happily, boots off in the sun eating a full English breakfast looking at the sea. Surely this would power me all the way to Bude.
Not long after I left the café, the path went down up and around a cliff keeping level as it skirted the sea before beginning to climb again. And so I climbed and climbed and the hill went on and so did I. After several false peaks, the summit was finally attained and I sat down wondering whether all the walking would be like this all the way to Bude. Today I was meeting my sister and her dog Leeds (champions!) and 5 pm at Bude was the provisional meeting time. I seriously doubted I’d make it by 7 pm, if at all, so I gave her a ring and arranged to meet her at Crackington Haven instead at 3 pm. Tomorrow was a rest day and I’d be walking without my pack for a day, staying in the National Trust cottage that my sister had so kindly booked. I was confident I’d be able to make up the lost miles and anyway I had to keep to my resolution to take my time and enjoy the walk. Hard though this walking was, it was another lovely day and the views were spectacular.
Heartened by my decision and with only 4 to 5 miles to walk in three hours, I headed off again the terrain becoming easier over grassy meadows. It was then I saw a majestic cliff near Rusey Beach towering before me. It took 15 minutes to walk down to the bottom of the cliff and another 20 to climb up,much easier than I’d expected as the path switched back-and-forth most of the way to the top, much easier than the super steep stairs so common in these parts. The cliff is imaginatively called “High Cliff”, apparently the tallest in Cornwall. I lay in the Sun on the grass at the top of the hill, inhaling the views. Looking back at Tintagel, and for miles beyond at the places I’d walked over the last couple of days. I couldn’t have been happier with the decision I’d made to stop early for once and enjoy myself.
After half an hour or so luxuriating in the sun, I made my way again. The walk to Crackington Haven was beautiful and quite straightforward. Shortly before I arrived at the port I passed wild goats chilling by the cliff edge and then a poor woman who had broken her ankle being tended to by several people. She seemed in very good spirits considering and there was nothing I could do to help her any further so I strolled on arriving at the port at about 2:30 pm. I sat in the pub with a pint until 3 pm when my sister and her dog arrived to drive me to the holiday cottage.
I now had a day and a half to rest up sort myself out and get ready for the next stage of my epic journey.
Day Summary:
Another lovely day, more stupendous views, feet and body in pretty good shape. Only 13 miles walked, but lots and lots of climbing.
Discover more from Henry’s very long walk
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I missed this one earlier. All these Cornish coves and their inevitable cliff top paths sound utterly exhausting but at the same time so enticing and rewarding once you look back and take in the progress and the views.
The cottage looks idyllic and how lovely to have a bed and company finally!
It certainly was.I’ll be posting about my rest day with Helen in a few days! She sees the walk differently since she tried to lift my backpack.