New Valley Hills

After nearly 11 hours in bed it feels like my cold has turned a corner. My throat improved overnight and it’s moved into my nose and head. Some painkillers to dull the throb.

The many toothed from the afternoon before is called Peter. A friendly South African by birth he now lives here, drawing comparison with the North Cornwall coast and his home coastline. He says it’s not safe to walk there unless you speak the local language- apartheid has done terrible things to local communities. He shows me some footage from a helicopter pilot friend of “The Hole in the Wall”, it does indeed look like this scenery. As I eat my orange he says give me the peel, I use it in my honey bee smoker, it helps calm them. Like me he doesn’t work anymore, apart from bee keeping and selling honey. His wife and him occasionally take live-in care work for a few months at a time to tide them over.

Here’s a photo from Sunday that I’d forgotten about.

As I leave at 0800 the muck spreaders are warming up for another shit spraying. I depart swiftly.

Arriving at Padstow at low tide it becomes apparent how much sand is in the estuary. So much so that it’s scooped out of the sea by long skinny diggers on the harbour wall into articulated lorries which take it away. To sell I presume.

Ferry to Rock departs with me as its only passenger. Again another lovely sand beach walk for 2km.

Polzeath beach has lots of people out with white buckets. On closer inspection it’s a litter pick. Engaging with the nearest tells me it’s a monthly event with a coffee social afterwards. Well done I say, (although privately I have reservations about this Surrey native owning a holiday home here ‘for the summer’) I litter pick at home. Discussion on what is most common to find, she says hair bands, I say large elastic bands dropped by the postie, not wishing to spoil the conversation by mentioning the abundance of alcohol receptacles thrown by drunk drivers.

Port Quin to Port Isaac is a tough section with very steep ascents and descents, the longest has 141 steps.

I’m very glad when two consecutive signs in six steps reduce the distance to go by 1/4 mile!

I bump into 3 chaps out for a stroll. As I stretch my legs while we natter I mention my calf injury. The squash player tells me to look after that leg.

For the second time I’m mistaken for 70 year old. Specifically a certain chap who’s a prolific poster on Facebook and a fount of knowledge as he’s doing his fifth thruhike. I can only assume people are star struck meeting me thinking I’m him. The next person who says are you Graham will get my very best Paddington Bear stare.

Coming round the corner to the houses of Port Isaac I’m very pleased to see them. Marie was pleased to, despite her bad back she’d made it to the highest point of the town cliff walk, higher than a fit pair of chaps who gave up before her. She double-checked with me that she was indeed at the highest point, then we ambled into town together agreeable. Her motto is If not now, when? A good motto I said. She’s having a holiday from work during which she’ll be 58. She used to be miserable about getting older then her current work at a children’s hospice changed her attitude to yippee I’m 58.

I’d been warned that the pub near tonight’s campsite was very expensive, Windsor London prices. I ducked into a pasty shop and a grocers to stock up on food for tonight and tomorrow until supper. As I pitched the rain came in. £5 for the field and £1 for a shower. Cheapest so far!

As I write this the expected rain is picking up. It’s gonna be a very wet night. I do hope it’ll blow over before 0700 as I have a challenging day tomorrow to the BnB in Boscastle before horrendous wind and rain land from 1800 Thursday until early Saturday morning.

No phone signal in the valley, nor campsite wifi. For the first time in ages I can’t tell Lisa where I am. I did tell her some nights I might be off-grid, hopefully she’s not concerned not hearing from me.

My left calf has been ok today. I slowed down, had more rests and let the right side do more work on the steps up and down. According to this it sounds like a Grade 1 tear which I am thankful for. I will not take it for granted for the next two weeks.