Every step a wonder as we return to the coast path

MAYBE it was the weather. Maybe it was the anticipation of what lay ahead. But whatever it was we were pleased to get out of Tintagel. For a tourist town, it all seemed a bit prickly as we prepared for our return to The Path, our first venture away from home since February. There’s a large car park in the cente of the town where you can only pay with coins. My mood lifted when I spotted a cashpoint and shop across the street – but dipped as I was curtly told the shop did not keep ‘change for car parks’ – despite my doing the decent thing and buying stuff that I didn’t want. After apologising for trying to support the local economy I visited another shop and bought more stuff I didn’t want in order to get the correct amount of change. Mrs Martin meanwhile was finding the public facilities out of action and was refused use of a nearby one despite offering to pay, or buy stuff she didn’t want. To further cheer us, some old grump accused us of blocking the pavement as we paused to gain our bearings, and to say we were pleased to get out of town would be an understatement. Our mission to walk the entire length of the South West Coast Path has been on pause thanks to the virus, but once out of Tintagel, it was wonderful to be back out there. If you want to get away from it all, there’s probably no better place than this section of the path to Port Isaac. It is a brute, eight miles of high craggy crumbling cliffs with at least seven, it felt like more, steep river valleys to descend and ascend. In our six hours out there we saw barely a soul, and were able to enjoy the near gale-force gusts of wind and occasional showers in our own little walking bubble. We felt very alive, and the spaniels, back where they love to be, seemed like puppies again. It was a great day to start our four days walking, marred only slightly by the realisation that we had the wrong set of car keys to go with the car we had left at Port Isaac earlier that morning. As always on The Path there was someone to help us. The super-kind staff at the Port

Gaverne Hotel put us in touch with the town’s shuttle service and before long the wild haired and talkative driver had us and the dogs loaded and on our way. The week, the weather, and the terrain all got better. From Port Isaac, which seems a warm and comfortable community despite its stardom, we walked through tiny and tragic Port Quin, into the magical Epphaven Cove, up and over the Rumps and Pentire Point, and then down to the sands of Polzeath, and the still busy Rock and Padstow. This section of the path feels different. It’s busy, even midweek, and the homes and hotels are in a different league. Another day took us round Stepper Point, to Gunver Head and then down to Trevone. There followed the beaches, and the mighty Trevose Head. We crossed

Harlyn, and Mother Ivey’s, Booby’s Constantine and Treyarnon – all stunning. Our destination was Porthcothan – once famous for its great rock arch – before that was destroyed by the monster waves of 2014. A gentler day took us on the wonderful clifftop stretches to Cernewas, and Bedruthan and Mawgan Porth. Every step of this coast path journey is a wonder, even the painful ones. It has taken us to places we may never have otherwise visited, and will probably never go to again. There simply isn’t time. If we do return – top of the list will be dining at the excellent Port Gaverne and the St Kew Inn. But the path leads you away, there is so much more to see. With 185 miles under our belt, we have a mere 445 more to go. Coronavirus has slowed us, but the adventure continues.