New Valley Hills

Picking up where I left off at Prussia Cove I stumble into a jolly couple I’d met yesterday. With a laugh we have a nerdy discussion about map reading, trail signage or lack of, and getting lost. They’re walking the path clockwise in sections as holidays. With one car they walk there and back again each small bit. By the time they finish they’ll have walked it in both directions!

At Cudden Point you get a big reveal.

At Marazion I buy victuals for the day. I couldn’t resist eating this immediately.

Several days ago I’d heard that Philps make a steak and cheese pasty. I bought one for my 32km jaunt today plus a new to me ‘heavy cake’. It’s a huge fruit scone, very dense and filling.

Marazion to Mousehole is along road and promenade. Not that interesting. I walk awhile with another clockwiser and his friendly pooch, sharing trail memories so far. My pace, faster than his, separates us later, still on the interminable pavement.

At Mousehole I eat steak and cheese pasty. The cheese doesn’t dominate but lifts the flavour. My favourite pasty so far.

I reflect on the past few days, realising how I’d turned into survival mode. Im glad to be thriving again.

Lots of hikers out today, the usual tips trading of the trail ahead – ‘mud’, ‘clambering near the cliff edge’, scratching things’.

I’m so used to being stung by nettles the scratch of gorse on my calves is welcome relief. What I do dislike is getting caught by brambles.

Arriving at Porthcurno I peer at the bus stop timetable. Confusingly it’s different to the web version I’m counting on to get me home. Scratching my head and sighing I hear a voice, ‘That’s the summer timetable which has finished now. The next, and last bus, is at ten to 7”. Inga, hailing from Lithuania, now living in Penzance, is on a day trip out with relatives from home. Relieved someone else is also waiting for the bus I relax a little – I don’t need to ring Bex asking for an enormous lift home. Inga immediately offers me a lift when she hears I’m heading back to Penzance, “my husband is on his way, he has a big enough car, we live there’. I’m so grateful, but so whacked out from a very long challenging walk, it’s a bit awkward for a few minutes as I have to keep sitting down, stretching my legs, plus maintain a conversation with a helpful stranger. Eventually my legs start behaving and we pass the time for an hour with pleasant conversation. I’m told I should look out for rye bread beer in Eastern European shops. Inga is chatty and good company.

Her husband David turns up and we all pile into the car back to Penzance. He’s from the Black Country and came to Cornwall for his love of Inga. He goes out of his way to drive me to the bus station.

My heart is lifted by the help of strangers. Thanks guys! ❤️

Poor Bex – she offered to pick me up from Penzance but the road was closed. A 10 minute drive took her 50 minutes!