A Trip to Cornwall - IV

More apologies another long one…

Having had a busy day on the Sunday we decided to take it reasonably easy on the Monday, our fourth day in Cornwall. Having spent most of the previous day driving we decided to get a bit of walking in, especially as it was a beautiful sunny morning which seemed to promise none of the showers of Friday and Saturday. I suggested one of my favourite circular walks - one often undertaken in younger days - from Gorran Haven around the cliffs to the Dodman Point which has some spectacular views of the south coast of Cornwall in both directions.

The drive to Gorran Haven was pretty uneventful, BondWoman having driven it the day before did not need my excellent navigation skills; which left me with the chance to take in some of the changes of the last eight years since I left Cornwall. I suppose that we must have arrived in the car park somewhere around 10:30 am, mainly because BW had a little work to catch up on before leaving the B & B. I have to say that I was in a bit of a quandary about a coat as it was a really beautiful morning; but I needed the pockets for the camera, bins, etc. and figured that if I did not have it I would definitely need it. As it turned out it was my biggest mistake of the day!

We walked down into the village to pick up the cliff path, yet another leg of the Cornwall Coast Path, which gives wonderful views of Gorran Haven as one walks up out of the village. As I looked back into the village it suddenly dawned on me how much the place had changed since I had spent my childhood days roaming these very cliffs, and I have to say not for the better - at least in my opinion. We followed the cliff path around to Vault Beach (often marked as Bow Beach on some maps) about a mile and a bit from Gorran Haven, and by the time we got there the coat was off and being severely regretted.

Vault Beach is a quite beautiful spot, as it is well away from any roads, and any sound other than that from nature comes from the odd boat or aeroplane that may stray past on the odd occasion. It is a beach of white sand, although to be truthful I would say that it is a very fine grit rather than sand, a little over a mile from end to end. This place has very fond memories for me, memories of beach fishing, bass straight out of the sea onto a driftwood fire, moonlight trysts with a particularly sexy lady; all came flooding back. Ah, well, I suppose that BW will want the whole story when she reads this.

The next mile and a bit to the Dodman itself is not that exciting as it skirts along the edge of agricultural land, a lot of which has been reclaimed from the swathes of gorse that used to inhabit it many years ago. The Cross on the Dodman was erected, by a local parson, in 1896 to serve as a daymark for shipping, as this was a notorious spot for shipwrecks. However, in the following year, it failed to save two war ships; and in more recent times (1966) the pleasure boat Darlwin fell foul of the area and went down with all passengers.

From the Dodman we headed a little back inland to Penare, then back over the top following the road which parallels the costal path back to Gorran Haven. I suppose  the round trip is something like five to five and a half miles which took us the best part of two and a half hours. On returning to the car park we ran bang into a very old friend who I had not seen in some twenty odd years; unfortunately we could not have an extended reunion as he was heading off to St. Austell for a meeting, but it was good to have even a brief chat.

Next, after a small snack, we head off to Mevagissey, where I spent the twenty nine years, between January 1971 and May 2000, of my life; thankfully I did not meet anyone with tales to tell of my past here. When we had parked, having paid an extortionate amount for the privilege, I suggested that we first walked up out of Meva and down to a very lovely beach, Polstreath. This is another very lovely beach, where I have spent many an hour just sitting on a rock, whilst my dog ran riot, watching the sea and simply enjoying the tranquillity. It is reached only via the cliff path and a very steep set of steps. BW was quite enchanted, and do believe that if she had a cossie she would have been into the sea without any hesitation at all.

Back up and into Mevagissey proper, BW by this time is suggesting that we find somewhere that we can sit in the sun and have a beer; now I am not that sure that this will be possible, but finally think of the only place, on the harbour, that this could be possible. As it happens we are coming into Meva from the right side to visit this hostelry, and guess what, it is no longer there and has apparently bee closed for some time. So, I finally persuade BW to visit an old haunt of mine own, not knowing how welcome I would be as the last time I was in there I was banned. In we went, I will not mention names to protect the guilty, and I made a very inauspicious start by mistaking the landlord for his father. I have to say that time and distance had wiped from my memory just what a miserable old sod he was, and still is; he certainly didn’t endear himself to BW.

Eventually I found out that BW really took against Mevagissey, for two main reasons a) she could not get to sit in the sun with a beer and chill out for a while and b) because the whole place looked pretty tatty and in need of several lorry loads of tins of paint; and I have to admit that with the benefit of eight years away from the place I have to agree with her. I especially agree with her on the first point, because, as she pointed out, there were people milling around with fistfuls of dosh (OK I may exaggerate a little with the ‘fistfuls’) ready to pay premium prices to be able to sit out and chill with a beer. On her second point the thought that crossed my mind was ‘so, what’s changed’, the answer to which is ‘nothing’.

So, rather disappointed with Meva, we headed of back to the B & B with thoughts in our head about where we would eat that night. BondWoman wanted to eat somewhere special as it was our last night in Cornwall, so when we got back to Boslinney Barn she did a little judicious Googling and came up with the Nare Head Hotel, about a half hour drive from the B & B. Now, having the bit well and truly between her teeth, BW rings to check if it is possible to eat; it is, so off we set through the narrow Cornish lanes I know and love heading for Veryan.

The Nare itself is a couple of miles beyond Veryan overlooking Carne Beach, another very peaceful spot. We are a little early so we head down onto the beach and take our second beach walk of the day, and very beautiful it was in the early evening light. I have to confess, even though we had not taken clothing suitable for such surroundings (we ate in The Quarterdeck), that the service was attentive, but not overly so, and the food was excellent; the house red was not too bad either foe a house wine. Unfortunately I had to drink all but a glass and a bit of it as BW was driving; ah, the sacrifices one has to make.

Replete from our gorgeous meal we headed back to the B & B where a bottle of red awaited us, finally BW could catch me up in the wine stakes. This was duly drunk before we retired for our beauty sleep before the following day’s return to Auld Reekie.

Pics

All pictures from the trip can be found here.