Eggs Benedict for breakfast with fresh coffee, but it looked like I wouldn’t be getting my mid-morning cappuccino on the section of coast path through Port Isaac to Polzeath. It’s not a long run around the headlands and into the estuary of the river Canel but it is quiet.
The hotel was lovely and an interesting building, with good food, etc, etc. It was the staff that made it an excellent stay and make us want to go back. All were natural, chatty and real, interested and interesting, light hearted, fun, full of knowledge, had time for everyone, and most importantly, laughed at my jokes.
Port Isaac warmed us up with its quaintness and we popped to the Co-op to restock bags with snacks. From the harbour the path suggested another steep day but the heights were lower than of recent days, the staircases not so long. Entertained by the shapes made by rocks, and made by the sea out of the rocks, other walkers were out in singles and pairs for out and back hikes.
Port Quin was too soon for a stop but Epphaven Cove was about right to open a packet of hobnobs and see if the gas that remained in the canister would heat up some water enough for a coffee while we sat on rocks by the beach. A lukewarm, crap coffee, as it turned out.
A grey start to the morning with hints of blue slowly shifted to sunny with a sea breeze. The climbs stopped and we sauntered the tops of cliffs and bluffs easily. The path was good, and probably well used out to the Rumps, the most northerly point before turning into the estuary.
The Runps was used as an Iron Age fort with the promontory’s connecting spur of land barricaded back then. Now it makes a good viewpoint. And looks like a dragon from the right angle.
We have seen so much over the last ten days. The British coastline is one of its greatest attributes and to have explored such a long section, close up at 2-3mph, day after day, step by step, has been difficult to keep up with. The amount you see doing this is tremendous, and looking back through my 1,600 photos and video clips already accumulated, at the halfway point for us, and a quarter of the South West Coast Path as a whole I don’t know what to pick to share with people.
Rounding the headland gave a sudden change, with large sandy beaches covered in colourful dots, boats around the Doom Bar going out to sea or back, Padstow in the distance and new ground for us to cover over the next couple of days. We dropped steadily to the beach at Polzeath, meandering through patches of sand left between beachgoers, grabbed snacks from one of the small cafes and started around to Rock and the ferry.
On the flat I tucked in and tried to keep up with Kim. The path took us around small, hidden patches of sand or stone sought out by visitors, to beaches, dunes and sandbars covered by people enjoying the sun and sea. We reached the docked ferry in no time at all, stepped on, blipped payment and sat for the crossing that left like they had been waiting for us.
Dropped at the harbour we visited the Mountain Warehouse shop on the waterfront to replace our gas canister and get back to making better coffee. And hot dinners. Kim got her Beavers discount. We had wanted to arrive early enough to do this and could now sit and relax in a busy but pretty Padstow for the rest of the afternoon. The campsite just up the hill had been booked.
There was a Tesco next to the campsite. The familiarity yet alienness of the aisles, a variety of choice we have not seen on the path and shopping-when-hungry meant we carried a heavy bag back to the tent. Mostly meat and cheese. Some beer. It’s interesting what your brain chooses when you are making your body do different things. I think scurvy will be upon us soon.
23km and 881m of ascent.