A Day by the Sea

Cornwall has got more miles of coastline than any other county, and a coastpath which faithfully follows the ins and outs and ups and downs of it all the way round. I don't suppose I'll ever manage it all, but I walked another little nibble out of the south coast yesterday.

For a late spring bank holiday the weather forecast was pretty dreadful - I took a sunhat, a rainhat, waterproofs and sunblock, not knowing quite what to expect. In the event the weather was bright but breezy, not too warm but with strong enough sun to merit the use of protective measures.

Porthlune Cove was our rendezvous. A popular tourist spot, obviously, with a large carpark. Golden sand in copious quantities, a bit of gentle surf, safe for children to splash about it and that increasing rarity these days, dog friendly. And we had a full complement of friendly dogs. They had a splash and a dash about on the beach but the coastpath beckoned. Which way? East towards Goran Haven, or west to Portholland? In the end we did both, going east first and climbing up to the top of Black Rock to look down on Lambsowden Cove. Back to base then, for a snack in the beach café and another paddle, then west towards Portholland. In both directions the views from the cliff tops were magnificent and the flora interesting, although probably not very pleasant for hayfever sufferers; we could actually see the clouds of pollen rising from the meadows as we walked through!

There was one puddle in the car park when we arrived, and a large group of martins were determined to take full advantage of the building material it provided. The arrival of cars didn't put them off very much at all; they just circled round until the cars stopped, then straight back to work. Later in the afternoon they had moved on to the field next door, feeding on the insects stirred up by a rambling herd of half-highland cattle, a herd which included some very small calves.

One (probably the main) reason why such a small insignificant cove as Porthlune has such a large, well-organised (and not cheap) car park is its proximity to Caerhays Castle, which has a convenient entrance to the grounds right over the road from the cove. It looked quite attractive viewed from the beach, if you like your castles to be large victorian gothic houses, but we decided not to tour the grounds or the house on this occasion. Maybe another time. There are also some circular waymarked walks available from the cove, but we didn't try those either yesterday. It was a good day with enough walking as it was...

Not Rough Tor (again)

Over on the north edge of Bodmin Moor there are two high bits, Rough Tor and Brown Willy, that I have never been to the top of, although they are fairly accessible on foot without requiring any serious climbing. Over the past few years, several expeditions to walk them have been planned, but each time something has gone wrong - one time there were severe gales, another there was very heavy rain, once I think I wasn't well but something else went wrong anyway.

So the 2009 Rough Tor/Brown Willy Expedition (bring a picnic) was scheduled for yesterday, Sunday. Saturday had been hot and sunny, and Sunday morning was overcast but dry so it seemed as though it was possible, this time. I duly packed the dog, a picnic, grandad's spiky walking stick and some walking clothes, and set off quite optimistically. Bearing in mind that although it is mid Summer it is also always colder on the moors, in addition to my usual summer walking outfit of trekking trousers, t-shirt, sunhat and sandals I took a light fleece, a fleece lined waterproof jacket and trousers, a rainhat, a warm lined hi-vis jacket with hood, heavy duty waterproof boots and socks, not to mention the emergency poncho which lives in the rucksack. Prepared for the very very worst, I was - or so I thought.

By the time I met the gang in the car park at the foot of Rough Tor it was already raining. I duly changed into the waterproof trousers, jacket and hat, and put on my heavy duty boots before we started up the hill. The higher we got the harder it rained and the more the wind blew, so that I very shortly found my right ear was full of icy rainwater, although my left side was comparatively dry. The weather closed in even more so that we couldn't even see the top of the hill, and then I realised that when we got up to the ridge we would have to turn and face directly into the wind to start the steep climb. At this point all enthusiasm for conquering Rough Tor left me. I was only slightly surprised at the alacrity with which my announcement that I was going to turn back was welcomed, by the human members of the party at least, the dogs weren't too pleased!

As we'd only been out an hour or so we decided to go for a flatter, hopefully more sheltered walk at Colliford Lake, which is also, coincidentally, on the way home. By the time we got there the rain was even heavier, so I swapped the original waterproof jacket (which had leaked down the front zip, so my t-shirt was quite soggy) for the hi-vis yellow number with hood. The dogs had a five minute swim and we went a quick walk across the dam and back, getting thoroughly soaked again. The waterproof boots were full of water by now, too, as it was more than a little marshy underfoot.

By this time we should by rights have been having the picnic lunch - soggy sandwiches, anyone? An indoor picnic sounded like a much better idea, especially with a new kitchen extension to show off. It's much, much nicer eating sitting at a table wearing dry clothes and drinking tea. And the new kitchen is even better than it looked in the photographs. It's comfortable, warm, light and spacious - all the things that a room at the heart of a house should be.

Ty rather disgraced himself; he's not used to cats at close quarters, and spent most of the time just standing and staring at them, quivering with tension, while they ignored him. Just before we left, however, he just had to have a lunge at Greebo, and came home with a bloody nose. I'm not sure whether he has learned anything by it, though.

By the time I got home all the clothes I had taken with me were wet. Even the poncho which I had to put on to come home, as it had started raining again while we were lunching. How can it be possible to get through three complete sets of waterproofs in one day, and not even get to the top of the hill? In July? In Cornwall? Easily, that's how...