August 5, 1991: Treyarnon Bay to Watergate Bay

Marge, Dorothy and Harold ready for day two at Treyarnon Bay

No one would have described the weather that greeted us on Monday morning, August 5th, as anything other than gloomy. I stared intently at the pools on the roof of the hotel next door in order to confirm that moisture was indeed falling. When I took the dog out his paws got soaked and I had to yank him off the bed twice on our return – so that we could get his feet dried off before he settled down.

Colin arrived again at 9:30 and we drove north amid assurances that this mist would pass away by noon. Nevertheless when we arrived only a few minutes later at the entrance to the youth hostel at Treyarnon Bay we had to spend several minutes in a bus shelter putting on our wetsuits. It was windy and chilly at the outset, though visibility remained rather good and spirits seemed to be in good shape.

We headed south around our first headland, leaving behind us an empty beach – quite a contrast to the scene of the previous afternoon. The moisture did indeed tail off but it was still rather breezy (a bother in my capacious cape) and no one seemed inclined to take off wetsuits. After edging around the cliffs at Fox Cove we followed a fence for some distance on our left. Views of Porthcothan beach were soon appearing in front of us; now we had to turn our back on the sea in order to wind through the sand dunes back to the coast road. Only an hour or so before I had noticed, from Colin’s speeding scenicruser, that this village offered both store and toilets.

Porthcothan inlet

Toby had to go on lead as we neared the traffic. We left Dorothy with the dog as the rest of us trooped over to the facilities. There was a little shop on the track leading back to the sea. I noticed that you could mail clotted cream to anywhere in the world and that Cornish yogurt (how the times had changed) was a specialty. I knelt in the sand to give Toby a drink in his dish while the others shopped inside. Harold reported that he knocked into two people, including one old lady, with his backpack. Dorothy bought some grapes.

There were only a few hardy souls on the coast path today. We said hello to each of them as we continued south on very easy terrain, with excellent views of the sea crashing against the rocks below. Fortunately we were not required to climb down the Pentire Steps, a steep path on our right, but the famous Bedruthan Steps, a series of dramatic islands which soon came into view, introduced us once again to the multitudes, who had come to view the scene by climbing down, as far as erosion would permit, from the National Trust car park ahead.

Toby wound his way in and out of the daytrippers and their dogs, without having to go on lead. We tried to sell Margie on the virtues of a hot Cornish pasty, for sale from a van, but her nose for cholesterol sniffed out a potential killer. There were some steep NT steps to negotiate and these we followed all the way to the car park itself, not quite what the coast path demanded, but useful because more facilities were discovered amid the cars. Toby, still loose, followed Harold and me into the gents.

Mist was falling again as we took one of the many local paths back in the direction of the coast, soon picking up our route as it passed through a stone wall in the local herring bone pattern. After the indentations provided by Trerathick and High Coves we crossed Trenance Point and returned to civilization, with the hotels of Trenance leading us down the hill into the large harbor of Magwan Porth – where Harold had bought the Sunday papers on our first ride yesterday. It had stopped raining.

The sea at Magwan Porth

An inn had outdoor tables and we decided to camp here and order some food. Some of the group went inside to bring back the beer and the wine while I tied Toby to a chair. The view of the passing traffic was not too edifying but the fish and chips were good and everyone seemed to be having a good time. Unfortunately it started to mist up again just as we were finishing this meal and this necessitated an early departure.

We had only a couple of miles to go on what I knew to be our easiest full day of the walk – only nine miles. Still, we had quite a steep climb on full stomachs up Berryl’s Point, around Beacon Cove, up Griffin’s Point, and then up to the cliff top north of our hotel. Harold and Margie got quite some distance ahead on this stretch and Toby had the chore of returning several times to see what was happening to the slowpokes. Eventually we began to travel over ground we knew from our first post-dinner walk. Dorothy and I paused for some photography here because by reaching this spot, just above Watergate Bay, I had completed my two thousandth mile on British Isles footpaths.

It was only 4:00 when we got back to the hotel so I put on my bathing suit and took the dog down to the beach for a paddle. It wasn’t raining but the water was much too cold for anyone but the army of surfers, practicing for the weekend championships, in their shiny black wetsuits. After dinner I had the devil of a time getting Toby to do his poos, climbing the cliff to the south once and spending a lot of time lurking in the far corners of the grassy car park on the Tregurrian Road. When it got really dark I gave up.

To continue with the next stage of our walk you need:

Day 19: Newquay to Perranporth

To continue with the next stage of the walk you need:

Day 20: Watergate Bay to Newquay