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Day 32
Coverack to Maenporth
Approx. 14 miles, 700m ascent
31,478 steps
I awoke to find the wind still blowing quite hard from the east, making it very likely that the ferry crossings I needed to do today would not be possible. A strong easterly wind is quite unusual in this part of the world, so the little river boats would not be prepared for rough water in the estuaries and wouldn’t be able to make the short crossings. However, I didn’t really have much choice but to get walking, and just hope either the weather would massively improve before I reached the crossing points, or that I would be able to find another way round, despite the apparent lack of any public transport in this quiet corner of Cornwall.
After another good breakfast at the hostel I got back to it, feet still feeling rather painful, but manageable once laced into my boots. Thankfully the first section was easy-going around the bay out of Coverack, the path very quiet apart from the blowing winds and some lively cows for company. I managed to thoroughly freak myself out walking through the industrial wasteland of some abandoned quarries, the howling wind and waves crashing against the derelict dock making me think I was hearing things. I was very pleased when the path turned inland and I found some civilisation in little villages.
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| Goodbye to a rather blowy Coverack |
The path cut inland a couple of times to avoid more quarries, and soon I dropped down into Porthallow, which marks the official midway point of the entire South West coast path. My diary entry reads: “Halfway! OMG only halfway haha”, which just about sums up my feelings! It was a bit of a desolate and deserted spot in the windy fog, but I attempted a terrible selfie to mark the moment before continuing on.
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| Halfway! |
I was soon approaching the first short ferry crossing at Gillan Creek. This one wouldn’t be too bad if it wasn’t running, as the route up the the estuary to get around was only another 1.5ish miles, but it would be nice to avoid the extra mileage. However, as I got close to the crossing point I passed some walkers coming the other way down the path, who reassured me they had just used the ferry. Despite the anxieties about the ferries I was loving the landscape of wooded river banks, with little sandy inlets and many small boats and houses dotted among the trees. I soon found the crossing point, with the very high-tech orange board to open and signal to the ferryman on the other side that there was a passenger waiting. As I waited a somewhat rude man stood and insisted that the ferry wasn’t running even when I explained I had just met some people who had used it. He then started to comment on the inappropriate size of my rucksack and my cheap walking poles, so I was very pleased when the ferry arrived and I could leave him with a cheery wave; I didn’t feel the need to explain to him I’d just walked 315 miles…
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| From coast to river |
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| Murky! |
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| Waiting for the Gillan Creek ferry, rude man not shown |
At the pretty landing point at St Anthony I celebrated with an ice-cream, ignoring the fact that the weather had hardly improved and it looked increasingly likely that the Helford ferry wouldn’t be running. The final stretch to Helford was extremely lovely, around Dennis head to look back down the coast, then weaving in and out of the trees with views across the river. I was soon in Helford and on the hunt for the crossing point. Unfortunately there was no sign of the ferry, and a phone call to the operators confirmed they were unable to run with the waves still rushing down the river in the wind. Debating my next move I got chatting to a Swedish couple who were also walking the path and wanted to make the crossing.
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| Looking back down to Gillan Creek |
We adjourned to the pub to discuss what to do. They had accommodation booked, and as there were no campsites anywhere close for me to use, we were all very keen to get across the water that afternoon. The walk around is about 13 miles so not feasible, and no public transport to speak of. I asked the bar staff for local taxi numbers, and just as we were about to make arrangements a taxi driver came in, looking for his last fare who he had just dropped off and who’s card payment had failed. He was heading back in the direction of Falmouth so agreed to take us, and we were soon on the way, very serendipitous!
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| Up the Helford estuary |
After a slightly crazy taxi ride through narrow country lanes, we alighted at the hotel where the couple were staying, just outside Mawnan Smith. I had managed to negotiate a reduced fare and my share was £20, and given the alternatives I was rather pleased with the outcome, and that I had actually made it to where I needed to be. I had a short walk down to Maenporth and the campsite, having decided to forget about the couple of miles or so of path that I had missed from Helford passage.
The campsite was friendly, if a little vast, but thankfully quite empty. I had to take a walk of about a mile to find the closest pub for dinner, which my sore feet didn’t thank me for! Thankfully tomorrow would be quite a short day, and I was pleased to be officially over half way and that the day had been a success.
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