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I woke early, just before 6am, to a sunrise promising another sunny day. I ate some porridge, packed up my tent and headed off about 6:30 am keen to make up for the lost time from the day before. The terrain remained the same, cove after extraordinarily beautiful cove, up down but never a flat section to be found. I found a stream after an hour or so and filtered some water. Shortly afterwards I passed the turn-off to Zennor, where the pub I had hoped to eat at the previous evening is located. I then plunged down to Zennor Head, the most challenging part of the walk I had come across. At times the path disappeared, replaced by enormous boulders that needed to be climbed. Finally I emerged onto a flat bit of ground. By this time it was about 10am and I had managed another 3-4 miles. My hopes of reaching St Ives for a good lunch were dwindling.

Shortly after Zennor Head, I spotted a route on my Ordnance Survey map across country to St Ives, avoiding the remaining 3 or 4 coves on the South West Coastal Path. The going became much easier as I walked through woodland, spring flowers in full bloom. There followed a path over stiles across the fields all the way to St Ives. I walked down the hill, passed the Tate and approached the harbour area just before 12am. I dove into the Lifeboat Inn, ordered a pint, found a table and ordered fish and chips. The first pint was done within less than 5 minutes so I ordered another and took stock while eating my food. I was about 14 miles from the campsite I hoped to get to by the end of the day, but the terrain looked much easier. I called the site and spoke to a lovely woman who told me I could fetch up any time I pleased and they wouldn’t charge me as I was raising money for charity. I decided to go for it.

At about 1:30 I left the wonderful Lifeboat Inn. After half an hour or so having walked up a steep hill I came across some men repaving the road who told me I would have to go back. I appealed to their better selves and eventually they let me pass. At the end of this stretch I came across some local people who wondered how I had managed to sweet talk my way along the road. “You don’t look like a resident after all” said one woman who correctly surmised that I wasn’t a Cornishman. At this point I met a man called Luke, who asked me where I was going. Luke asked me if I’d like him to show me the short cut across the beach, so boots off, we walked across the beach having a lovely chat. He then asked if I’d like to meet his mum who he was visiting. The lovely Sally made me tea, fed me flapjacks, offered me a shower and a bed for the night and bid me farewell with a complimentary bounty bar.

Luke accompanied me further all of the way to Hayle. I then set off along the stretch to Godrevy point, making good time, although it was starting to get late. As I reached Godrevy point after 6 miles or so, I took another short cut along a road emerging at Hells Mouth.

From Hell’s Mouth it was another 3 miles of so across fields to Magar Farm campsite. I arrived at 8:30, showered, cooked in the dark and slept the sleep of kings.

Summary

Distance walked, 24 miles. Another epic day, but back on schedule.