To keep warm in the cold of the early morning I started with five layers of clothing, but soon shed them as I walked into the rising sun, posies of primroses lining my path and a little boat collecting lobster or crab a little off the cliffs. As I approached St Ives a series of joggers bounded by, lycra clad. I saw many out for a run today, some looked like serious trail runners, others just feeling they should get some exercise. I reached the dog walkers at the beach of Porthmeor where on the sea, surfers bobbed hopefully on diminutive waves.
Breakfast was an egg and (rather tasty) sausage sandwich with coffee sitting on a bench on St Ives harbour side. Then I used the freshly cleaned toilets and topped up my water at the "Refill" station outside. This initiative to provide sources of drinking water, marked by a blue water drop symbol, are very welcome by the hiker and much to be encouraged, especially as they avoid the purchase of plastic bottles of water.
Leaving St Ives, the path trailed the tracks of the local branch line, crossing under and over the rails, passing houses and a few beaches. There was a long detour inland around the Hayle estuary, down one side and back up the other. After the town of Hayle itself, the coast path weaved up and down dunes, hard walking on the soft sand, tiring of it I dropped down to the beach. The surfers were having more success with riding the waves than I saw earlier. There were a lot of them, including youngsters attending a surf school, with wet suits and boards of many colours. Soft sand on the beach also proved an unsuitable surface to make fast progress on so I returned to the path in the dunes to reach Gwithian. Seeking a coffee and some sustenance I noticed signs for the "Jam Pot" advertising such delights. Unfortunately the notice failed to mention where the Jam Pot was located. I found the "Rockpool" but you needed to bag a table to order. Inevitably they were all full, as were the car parks, full of Sunday trippers and their families, eager to enjoy the sun and surf after months of Covid enforced isolation. Fortunately, a later café served me a vegan wrap with Halloumi cheese (!) and a coffee (God bless the busy staff).
After looking for some neolithic barrows on the next headland I stopped at a seal viewing area. At first I could see no evidence of the creatures in the cove below the cliffs. Then a lady pointed out (very quietly as advised by the signs) two seals on the beach by the waterline. Their brown mottled colour made them easy to miss. The next section was relatively flat along the cliff tops among the gorse. Due to the nearby car parks, plenty of people were about. Then my relaxed walk was interrupted by a couple of steep valleys, the path dropping down steeply, then immediately climbing the other side with a few steps to aid the weary walker.
Portreath was a busy little Cornish village with the usual car park, beach, a few pubs and an old harbour, this one with some old docks. I continued, looking out for a camping spot. A fellow backpacker had pitched in a sheltered spot in a valley near a fence enclosing Ministry of Defence land. I walked a little further and chose a spot by an old mine shaft (suitably capped by a concrete "hat") to spend the night. A little beyond was "Wheal Tye", remains of a tin mine from the 1920's, more concrete than the masonry of the previous century. The day had been warm and sunny. I had spent much of it in my tee shirt, but as the sun approaches the horizon a cold wind is blowing and I have been progressively adding layers of clothing to keep warm.
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