New Valley Hills

Fab campsite – it had hedges dividing the site. Why don’t other hillside sites do this to cut down the wind? I suppose views are more important. Though when you’ve spent ten hours looking at a view you want a good night’s kip.

For the first time this hike I see an identical tent to mine. Apparently there was a third here the night before the campsite owners tell me. Getting talking to the fellow tenter we compare success stories and how much we like our tents. Apparently the third was the ultralight version which has no fly, just a single waterproof skin. The American owners couldn’t believe how much condensation they had to deal with here coming from the US west coast which is much lower humidity.

As I start the first of three breakys the wind begins to pick up. I head down to the ferry concerned it won’t be running. The smell of fresh baking pulls me into a cafe at 0800. Assuring me the ferry will run until 1900 they tempt me with an English breaky. The proprietor bakes everything apart from the pasties, suckered in I also buy an apple toffee crumble cake slice for ‘ron. They tell me the local families have a traditional swim as they leave middle school before starting upper school. With parents in boats the kids have to swim the harbour between Polruan and Fowey.

Polruan is not overrun with tourists. It still has a working boatyard with some impressively sized working boats on the quayside overshadowing nearby houses. The spark of welding flashes across the water

Fowey is a bit more touristy but it has a butcher, bookshop and bakery. The bookshop sign says closing at 1.30pm today. A cafe serves me pastry and mint tea as breakfast #3. I need to refuel!

Cooling my heels for an hour I people watch, scurrying around before the storm lands. There is talk of quayside properties flooding.

It’s difficult not to feel a fraud when you’re not walking. I have to remind myself it’s only me making me do this, and staying safe is paramount. The SWCP Facebook groups are full of people telling they’re not walking today, finding shelter at inland campsites or indoors accommodation. I join in their conversations- we are a virtual group supporting each other.

I think in my accom I’ll unpack everything and air it.

The wind is picking up, rumbling around the street corners. My room not quite ready I deposit my bag there and amble for a fourth breaky.

At 3pm I’m very glad not to be on a cliff.

Though I’m hungry for a late lunch. Pub kitchen closed on Wednesdays. I’ll wait it out a bit longer before venturing to the butchers for a local pasty.

Over the last week I’ve added another pair of shorts and a base layer top. I can now alternate these, hopefully this’ll mean a) not having to put on a crusty top; and b) letting handwashing dry during the day as long as the weather holds out. I’m willing to carry the extra ~200g to feel cleaner and dryer each morning.

I’ll have a pint of ale later. Let’s hope the pub does it well. As it’s halfway up a hill I refuse to quaff quayside and struggle up with beer legs on my rest day.

I’m anticipating being halfway round in 3-4 days, depending if a seasonal ferry runs or not. If it’s not it’s a half day detour. Thankfully most of the ferries are behind me now so that’ll soon be one less logistical issues to plan for.

Heading into town I buy an egg mayo roll made in front of me, as an alternative to a pasty. There’s a well stocked beer shop that sells me a tin of Betty Stogs. Good Cornish ale, and the brewery saved from financial ruin post covid. Good to see it for sale again.

Sitting on a bench quayside eating I have to lift my feet as the raised waves overtop the wall. Moving back I see two fastpackers waiting for the ferry. I strike up conversation asking about conditions to Mevagissey where I head tomorrow. I trade tips about the trail to Polperro. They’re running a coastal section for a few days staying in bnbs. Today they moved inland coming along minor roads and inland tracks as the clifftops were hairy. Having been living the outdoor lifestyle in California for a year they’re now in Oxfordshire. So flat they say, nothing to lift your eyes to. Rugged Cornish coast for a week is giving them a fix. We wish each other luck as the ferry is pushed to the quay by the wind, the pilot struggling to get it in.

Ferryman is saying ‘essential travel only, and the journey is taking longer than usual and is very choppy’. It’ll get worse later as the effect of the wind offshore brings bigger waves. When I pop out for fish and chips later I’ll give the harbour another turnabout to see how the moored boats are going. Even now they’re wobbling a lot.

There are humorous videos on Fb of people leaning into gales trying to stand up, indicating what clifftops in Tintagel are like today. Fowey is on the edge of the storm, walkers east of me towards Poole report business as usual.

A copy of the free ‘Fowey News’ makes its way into my hands. Fascinating article about their orchard. A few of the apple varieties are new to me.

I plan the next 2.5 days walking to Falmouth, booking campsites at 32km intervals and deciding how early to get up on third day for the two ferries into Falmouth – low tides preventing them running at lunchtime.

Stepping out at dusk for chish and fips it’s entertaining to see inside houses. The boats wobble in the harbour a little less, the gale winds are subsiding, but the swell is too much for the ferry – 4 feet up and down means it can’t dock.