Feeling Today: 👍
So Far: 1,073.91 miles, 351:23hours
I couldn’t do the maths to calculate how I’d best be able to cross the Gannel, a tidal river just to the west of Newquay. At Pentire on Crantock Beach the foot crossing was still under water when I arrived, and I took the extremely short ferry over the main channel – 60 pence for maybe 20 yards.
This still left another wadeable stream for which I had to take my boots off. My toes are still hurting and I’m unsure how to sort them out (other than stopping walking …), but I’m pretty sure a spoon of wet sand in each sock at the start of the day isn’t what’s needed!
It was a short walk from there round to the oddly-named Polly Joke, a picturesque sandy bay. I’d assumed it would be Monty Python’s dead parrot sketch, but in fact it was ‘What do you call a parrot that can’t remember ….. ?’ Polynesia. (Alternatively, for the mathematicians, it could be the dead parrot, Polygon.)
The path was level and easy, largely along the cliff tops but interrupted by the tiring, dry sand of the occasional dune.
Beyond Holywell Beach and the bleak, even sinister, MoD base at Penhale Camp, I was able to drop down onto the expansive beach at Perran Bay and walk along the two miles of sand into Perranporth.
Perranporth was nicely busy and I had a couple of Tributes and a pie at the Seiners Arms which was, I think I recall, the scene of a disgraceful incident several years ago involving a staircase and one of the FatBlokesWalking …. [CENSORED]
From there to St Agnes I was walking through former mine workings on the high cliffs, and the area is an industrial heritage site. The pretty village is spread out and incorporates several old mines and engine houses that mined copper, tin and arsenic.
A lovely meal this evening at Schooners in the harbour of St Agnes with Lisa and John and Jill and Andrew. Out at sea we saw wild-swimmers, seals and dolphins or porpoises.