Day 12 The longest day

Once again I woke early. I had a look at my guidebook for a summary of today’s walk and found that “the walk features an arduous series of steep ascents and descents”. Yesterday had been described as “not too difficult” yet I had found it hard going. This was also to be my longest walk so far at 14 miles. I won’t say that my heart sank but I knew I had better gird my loins.

After breakfast my Airbnb host told me of a shortcut to the coast. He knew today’s path well, at least the first, arduous part. Why? Well, in the days when he was bunking off school, he said it was best to avoid detection by shunning the road and taking the Path.

As I was peching (Scottish word for puffing, always used by my father) up an arduous ascent I reflected that, were I in the Lake District, I would be passed by a fell runner at this point. This being Cornwall I was passed by a man with a black spaniel, not quite running, but definitely striding a lot faster than me. I paused for a break at the top ( date and oatmeal slice, an apple and some water). Carrying on after some fifteen minutes I saw the what I thought was the same man, walking slowly near the cliff edge, but I couldn’t see the dog. He went and sat down very close to the cliff edge and I wondered what he was doing. Perhaps the dog had, no, surely not? But yes, the dog had gone over the edge. As I got closer he was talking to two walkers (who had also passed me on another arduous ascent). He could see her, and she was alive, but seemed injured. The happy end to this story is that she was rescued by the lifeboat, and was seen to be wagging her tail as she was lifted into the boat.

I reached Trebarwith Strand after over four hours of walking. Seven and a half miles. I had another 7 miles to go. I needed fortifying, what with the dog rescue drama and the arduous ups and downs. A pasty should do it. This one came from The Strand Cafe. Pastry-good, crimping, full marks, size-a little small, or was I just hungry? Filling-not bad but probably tying (tieing?) for last place. I also bought a flapjack ( surprisingly unpleasant, remains uneaten but on hand for emergencies until I find a replacement) and two drinks. All those arduous ascents and descents make one very thirsty. Talking of thirst, I haven’t mentioned the weather. Today was hot and humid, but no rain, just the odd spot.

The coast after Trebarwith is Devonian slate and so was quarried for about 500 years. (You can’t beat a good information board, or, as we learned to call them when we lived in California, an interpretative experience.) Even the stiles were made of slate. The route to Tintagel was easier, once the stiff climb from the beach to the cliff tops was over. I thought I might stop at Tintagel, as I’ve always wanted to see it but one look at the number of steps involved persuaded me otherwise.

Boscastle 4 miles read the signpost at Tintagel. I knew there were some more valleys to cross but 4 miles didn’t seem too bad. Like yesterday’s miles, however, they seemed very long.

I was pretty tired by now, so my enthusiasm for taking photos was waning. I made an exception for Rocky Valley where I filled my water bottle (don’t worry, it’s got a pretty good filter) at a fast flowing stream.

Boscastle still seemed a long way off. In fact, the countryside looked completely uninhabited. But before despair really took hold I rounded a corner and there, in the evening sunshine, was Boscastle.

I arrived at about 5.15, checked in, took off my very sweaty clothes, and hopped, or rather, hobbled, into the shower. 14 miles, 4856 feet of ascent.

I had booked dinner in the restaurant, and interestingly the calories for each meal were marked beside them. First course scallops, pan fried, 612 calories. Main course fillets of lemon sole and hake with leeks and new potatoes, 388 calories. Then the shocker. Sticky toffee pudding with ginger ice cream, 1453 calories. Tomorrow is a rest day, and I’m looking forward to it a lot, as are my feet, and, if they but knew it, my remaining unwashed clothes.