Liskeard-Looe Walk

Liskeard is nine miles inland from Looe and much higher up, on the edge of Bodmin Moor, in fact. So a stroll down the Looe River valley should have the emphasis on the down, don't you think? Nice and peaceful and come back on the train, lovely day out.

There was an article in one of our local free papers last summer waxing lyrical about 'our Cornish rural heritage, woodland, meadows, fast rushing streams and unspoilt green lanes where only a distant tractor may disturb the sound of bird song.' Pisky wells, Cornish Crosses, herons, Giants' hedges - it all sounded quite inviting, so we thought we'd give it a go. The first minor difficulty was that the trains (for getting back uphill) don't run on Sundays until mid-May, but not to worry, Saturday will do instead. Then, of course, the weather, which has been beautifully springlike lately, turned against us, with very heavy rain and gales overnight. By morning it was still very windy but the rain was only occasional, so I packed the lunch, dug out the boots, fleece, rainhat, lightish jacket but an extra waterproof poncho (not needed) and off we went.

The walk starts at Liskeard station, and the first mile or so was down lanes but very busy ones. Since they built the new Dobwalls bypass anyone wishing to visit the Farmers' Co-operative at Mole Valley either has a five mile detour or zips down one of two lanes out of Liskeard - and all Liskeard was going shopping this Saturday morning, it seemed. Down the bottom of the hill by Coombe Junction the road got quieter, although it was still a metalled lane which went uphill for a very long time. Proper high banks, though, with lots of flowers coming through. At the top we turned left, as instructed, and looked for 'an unsignposted lane by a house named Lunghwa.' We found a signposted lane (to Scawn) near an estate with no visible name, went down a while but it didn't quite match the description, went back up to the road, carried on a bit further and found a gate with the name Lunghwa on it, decided it must have been the right road anyway and retraced our steps. About half a mile and a whole village further on the instructions caught up with the road again, happily, and from there on we were mostly walking through woods and along streams. It wasn't exactly glorious sunshine but it was pleasant enough, and the occasional flurries of rain weren't much of a problem at all.

At a place where we were instructed not to cross the river but to take a track along it instead we stopped on the stone bridge for our lunch. Ty was pleased - the river under the bridge was deep enough for swimming, and stone bridges echo so well! There was some activity in a field right next to where we were - tents and some vehicles and a few people. We couldn't work out what they were doing so far from civilization, and when a couple of people walked out of the field on their way back up the hill I just had to ask them. It turned out that the sister of the gentleman I was talking to was getting things ready for her golden wedding anniversary party, which was to take place in the field that evening. They'd had a bit of difficulty with the tents blowing over during the night, unfortunately, but were carrying on. Posh frock, extra underwear, fleeces and wellies the dress code, I think.

After lunch we carried on to a ford which offered, as well as the actual ford itself, a log bridge to the left and a very narrow wooden footbridge with missing planks to the left. The footbridge actually felt quite solid, although it had an apologetic notice on it from the parish saying they'd mend it as soon as they could. From the ford the instructions said 'Climb the track steeply uphill for several hundred yards to a stile on the left.' The track was very steep indeed, slippy slate with most of the earth covering eroded, requiring great concentration to get up without mishap. Such great concentration, in fact, that we totally missed the stile on the left and carried on right to the top of the hill. A kilometre of unnecessary steepness, according to the map I consulted when I got home. In retrospect, we had seen the place where we should have gone off the track but it was a gate, not a stile, with a 'no cycling' notice on it. Anyway, we took another lane back down to the left another kilometre or so and got back to where we were supposed to be. From there it was all quite tame and flattish, although very pleasant, along the river watching it gradually become tidal then wider and almost estuarial in nature. The last part of the walk is through Kilminorth woods, a popular excursion from Looe, with waymarked paths and different coloured routes. We took the flattest and shortest!

As we got into Looe the weather started to deteriorate, such that I changed my mind about treating us to an icecream and we went straight to the station, just in time to catch a train back at 16.07. We had met in Liskeard at 10.30 and set off almost immediately, so it was quite a long day. I reckon about 12 miles, and not by any means all downhill as promised. A good day, though, and a walk we may repeat later, now that we know the way.

Things I have learned today: Not only should one make sure one has plenty of the right kind of clothes (I got that right!), one should never be without a map, even (or perhaps especially) when following instructions. Things change, landmarks and signposts are altered, and that nasty feeling that one is going the wrong way is very unnerving. Not that we had that feeling clambering up from Plashtown Ford - we had had experience of the distances being a bit vague and guesswork, so we just carried on. Next time, I'll try not to.