Time and Tide Wait for No Man

Coverack to Helford wasn’t a bad walk at all. Not too much hill and dale and surfaces comfortable for walking. Half way through the day we reached Halfway through the coastal path. 315 miles done, 315 to go and 65,000 feet climbed. So you start from Meadowhall in Sheffield and walk to Hyde Park in London, imagine that you climb Ben Nevis at Nottingham and Mount Everest at Leicester on the way and then you walk back, climbing Everest and Ben Nevis again and stop at Meadowhall. That’s the distance and the number of feet ascending I’ve done so far.

Before Helford is a two and a half mile circuit around a bay. If you catch it at low tide you can cross on stepping stones and save two miles. With camera quivering in hand I waited in eager anticipation of Andrew slipping into the water. Disappointingly he remained dry.

Andrew’s camera was quivering in hand waiting for me to fall but I’d taken off me boots and forded it to avoid the slippery stones.

Coming up through the woods by the sea we spotted a beautiful clump of flowers – anemones? These are they. Just stunning in their simplicity, colour and texture against the woodland floor.

We made it to Helford and went straight to the ferry across Helford River. Not running due to low tide! We looked like having to wait for nearly two hours. The path around the River was 14 miles long. Then in a moment of pure chance we heard a couple with Northern accents, Gill and Phil from Cheshire but definitely Phil was from South Yorkshire before his emigration west. It turned out they were driving past where we needed to be and we’re happy to give us a lift – we retraced our steps this morning to pick up where we left off but it’s been a lucky trip so far.
Last night we barbecued on site again, sweet corn from a field we raided and chicken legs which we bought. Another feast, listening to Richard Hawley with the Universe hovering over our heads.

This morning we regained Helford, at the north end of the ferry terminus, and pushed on to Falmouth. This is a shot of the coast just north of Helford Passage.

Andrew’s face has taken a bashing from the wind and sun. Cop this.

Mine is beautiful.

Before me and Andrew set off – Tuesday of last week – we loafed in St Ives and there were two buskers in suits on drums and guitar. I didn’t think they were loud enough so I joined them (as pictured below) and then an elderly hippy joined in too so we rocked the place with 60s songs.

I got a photo of the village idiot in Gweek. I know it’s not clever to have a laugh at the expense of unfortunates but look at the state of eee.

He’s going back tomorrow. I’ll miss the old bugger. We just tramp along as far as we have to go each day. Intellectually he’s good as well as knowing a lot. He can deduce accurately from what he sees and already knows. Ah well. Time is out of joint, oh cursed spite, that ever I was born to finish off this walk on my tod. To misquote the Greatest before Muhammad Ali.

See you Andyrew. Thanks for the company.
Summer eventually leaves and leaves begin to fall. That’s me that is. Good innit? Analogising Andrew’s departure to the passing of summer and the advent of autumn. In actual fact they’ve crept hand in hand. In the tree tunnels that occur on this walk the piles of leaves are growing whilst the wind is warm. There’s only one winner. Time and Tide wait for no man.