Day Twenty Nine - Mevagissey to Par 17.1km (10.5 miles).
Time on route 4:40hrs, walking time 04:25hrs.
Monday 06 June 2016
I left the car at St Austell and caught the bus to Mevagissey. I wasn't sure how far I was going to walk today due to my pesky sciatica. I was flexible (except for in my lower back sadly) re: timing and where I came off route and returned to my car later. Charlestown seemed do-able. However I met a fellow walker at the bus stop in St Austell who, too, was walking from Mevagissey. He was stopping at Charlestown. When I suggested I may go further he raised his eyebrows "ah, that's a long way then," he replied. Game on. Past Charlestown it was then.
Mevagissey is a very pretty harbour. The tide was out and someone was tending to their boat.
Pentewan was the first bay I came to. You skirt behind a large caravan park along the road into the village. I was stopped here by a couple in a kit car where the retired chap barked "Heligan!" at me. No, I didn't know the way to the Lost Gardens either. However, his car was at least pointing in the right direction.
There was a plethora of wildlife on view today. Much of it was flying (hence the title of today's blog - it reminds me of a made up name for all things that fluttered in a children's story book). Brown and blue butterflies/moths flitted in and out of my route, along with birds of prey soaring above and beetles scurrying past. There were cows aplenty and I even bravely walked within 2 metres of one enroute. I was relieved I only spotted the nearby bull once near the stile [that would have been emotionally messy otherwise]. And the only thing that stood still long enough for me to bother taking a photo was this interesting, teenage-giggling-inducing, fungi.
There are quite a few land/sea defences around here - par for the course I suppose on the south coast of the UK. A deserted lookout sat forlorn in a field.
There weren't too many climbs today.
And they were infinitely preferable to descents which jarred my poorly back every jolt of the way.
More fungi. Fewer giggles.
Charlestown appeared earlier than expected, probably because I was plodding on with no stops.
It is still a working harbour and seems to have a penchant for rigged boats.
Oodles of maritime history here. Bliss (sigh).
But of course I didn't linger as I'm walking, not touristing.
The National Coastwatch has a lookout just to the east of Charlestown.
My back was really annoying me by this juncture but I wandered on, not wanting to admit early defeat. Once past Charlestown you near Carlyon Bay and a huge golf course which you hug for a kilometre or so. There are few glimpses of the beach but this one amused me. I wondered what was going on here with its imported pot-plant palm trees and kitsch tropical nirvana. It turns out this is the former Cornwall Coliseum ('entertainment capital of the SouthWest'). To say it's in redevelopment would be generous. But I'm sure it'll come good.
It was pretty flat by now as I neared Par Sands. Thank goodness. The whole of my back was grumping and I limped on past the China Clay factory into Par Sands.
I caught the bus back to St Austell from Par and had a night on the town in St Austell that evening. If you've ever been to St Austell on a Monday night you'll know that perhaps I added a little panache to my former sentence...
Time on route 4:40hrs, walking time 04:25hrs.
Monday 06 June 2016
I left the car at St Austell and caught the bus to Mevagissey. I wasn't sure how far I was going to walk today due to my pesky sciatica. I was flexible (except for in my lower back sadly) re: timing and where I came off route and returned to my car later. Charlestown seemed do-able. However I met a fellow walker at the bus stop in St Austell who, too, was walking from Mevagissey. He was stopping at Charlestown. When I suggested I may go further he raised his eyebrows "ah, that's a long way then," he replied. Game on. Past Charlestown it was then.
Mevagissey is a very pretty harbour. The tide was out and someone was tending to their boat.
Pentewan was the first bay I came to. You skirt behind a large caravan park along the road into the village. I was stopped here by a couple in a kit car where the retired chap barked "Heligan!" at me. No, I didn't know the way to the Lost Gardens either. However, his car was at least pointing in the right direction.
There was a plethora of wildlife on view today. Much of it was flying (hence the title of today's blog - it reminds me of a made up name for all things that fluttered in a children's story book). Brown and blue butterflies/moths flitted in and out of my route, along with birds of prey soaring above and beetles scurrying past. There were cows aplenty and I even bravely walked within 2 metres of one enroute. I was relieved I only spotted the nearby bull once near the stile [that would have been emotionally messy otherwise]. And the only thing that stood still long enough for me to bother taking a photo was this interesting, teenage-giggling-inducing, fungi.
There are quite a few land/sea defences around here - par for the course I suppose on the south coast of the UK. A deserted lookout sat forlorn in a field.
There weren't too many climbs today.
And they were infinitely preferable to descents which jarred my poorly back every jolt of the way.
More fungi. Fewer giggles.
Charlestown appeared earlier than expected, probably because I was plodding on with no stops.
It is still a working harbour and seems to have a penchant for rigged boats.
Oodles of maritime history here. Bliss (sigh).
But of course I didn't linger as I'm walking, not touristing.
The National Coastwatch has a lookout just to the east of Charlestown.
My back was really annoying me by this juncture but I wandered on, not wanting to admit early defeat. Once past Charlestown you near Carlyon Bay and a huge golf course which you hug for a kilometre or so. There are few glimpses of the beach but this one amused me. I wondered what was going on here with its imported pot-plant palm trees and kitsch tropical nirvana. It turns out this is the former Cornwall Coliseum ('entertainment capital of the SouthWest'). To say it's in redevelopment would be generous. But I'm sure it'll come good.
It was pretty flat by now as I neared Par Sands. Thank goodness. The whole of my back was grumping and I limped on past the China Clay factory into Par Sands.
I caught the bus back to St Austell from Par and had a night on the town in St Austell that evening. If you've ever been to St Austell on a Monday night you'll know that perhaps I added a little panache to my former sentence...
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