New Valley Hills

Awake at 0500, set an alarm for 0700, then arise at 0600 as the buffeting wind and rain make me restless. Amazingly I slept for 5 hours, and the tent stayed up. I break camp and get walking at 0700. Despite the dreary clouds it feels wonderful moving again after sheltering overnight.

At an appropriate bin I deposit my doings. LEAVE NO TRACE.

I can see Cornwall in the grey distance ahead but I’m despondent about a 16km road detour if the ferry isn’t running. The wind hasn’t calmed overnight. Waves crash into the jagged rocks while wind rips the top off surf. Resigned to the road walk I look at the map again to see if I can cut into it now.

At Warren Cottage the trail signage post is 180 degrees out of true, making for momentary confusion followed by a laugh as I work it out.

When I turn the headland corner into the estuary I’m confronted by calmer waters. I text Bill.

What can I do for 90 minutes over 2km. I dawdle, eat blackberries and brush my teeth. Despite the overcast weather I feel brighter.

‘Ski’ 2 days earlier had asked me to pass a message to Bill. He’d come out of a warm home to ferry her in inclement weather, providing her a bottle of cider to lift her spirits. Bill looks quizzically at me when I say I’ve got a message from his past. He is then amused to hear Ski made it through the weather, grateful for her cider, and is pressing on along the trail. He laughs at his memory of her. He gives me good advice – one can avoid Plymouth pavement pounding by taking two consecutive ferries. I agree that’s an excellent idea – we both have dim views of cities.

Dog walker wishes me luck. Bill not yet committed to next year. What will happen to ferry if not him?

An unexpected cafe provides sausage roll, salad and mocha coffee – I got it right this time!

I bounce along to Plymouth in the wind. Catch Mount Batten ferry to Barbican then another from same jetty via Royal William Yard to Mount Edgcumbe. I cut out Plymouth entirely and it’s road miles. Worth it for £6.50

Celebrate with an ale then miss shops for supper as it’s Sunday- 1600 closing! Luckily the campsite common room has a free stuff table. I snaffle an apple mouthing thanks to the anonymous donor.