Cool Wind In My Hair – Polperro to Downderry

Thanks Glenn and two Dons.

Today was wonderful. I had a great sleep, although it really lashed it down with high winds and heavy rain. I’m sleeping heavily recently. At 70 you wonder if it’s significant. Am I transitioning? As people get older they sleep less. Perhaps I’m getting younger. What do you think?

Now that bloke doesn’t look 70. But in January he did. Proof. I’m getting younger and I bet my hair grows back and then I’ll drive down a dark desert highway with cool wind in my hair. YEEEEESSS!

Che drove me down to Polperro where we had breakfast together at the Wheelhouse.

Breakfast was great but expensive so we’re going to do our own from now on.

I think Polperro is the most beautiful seaside village in Cornwall, but heavily touristic in summer.

Looking back the other way is just as good.

Then out on to the salt path. Is dying like this or does it all just go black forever? I think it goes black. Bet you a quid it does.

This is the magnificent cliff protecting the harbour from the south westerlies.

I love this path. It’s great at this time of year with not many folk on it, and those who are on it take it seriously but enjoy it too. What’s not to enjoy? Looking back towards Polperro.

And forward towards Talland Bay and beyond to Rame Head, which protects Plymouth from the south westerlies.

I made reasonable time, despite stopping to talk to solo travellers coming the other way. People wanting to feel the freedom and transcendental effect of trekking day after day. People trying to find something.

You might be thinking ‘Pretentious prick’. If you are then it’s an accurate thing to think but it contains a swear word so you are barred from this blog for at least 5 minutes.

Five minutes?

Yes, starting now. But you have to self-time it. Don’t cheat……You cheated you prick!

Talland Bay is lovely too.

I was feeling very unfit and I wasn’t carrying a heavy rucksack, just my daysack. The long uphill stretches were doing me in. I hadn’t trained and I was feeling it. But it’s only 12 miles today.

I’m leaving a gap from Fowey to Polperro that I will fill in on Sunday with my friends Senor y Senora Kilby. Tomorrow I’m having a rest day with my sister, just walking to places that mean a lot to her emotionally, and on Friday I’ll walk Downderry to Plymouth. I’m organised, but I prefer busking it.

This is a hill beyond Downderry. A place where those beneath the crosses will spend eternity. Nice view of the sea.

The shoreline is rugged throughout Cornwall, decorated occasionally by beautiful beaches.

Then over the brow of a brow I could see the outskirts of Looe and the island, to the right of the photo, which Joseph of Arimathea visited with the Christ child. According to local legend.

Between Looe, on the left, and the island, on the right, is Downderry in the background. That’s where I’m aiming for today.

But before I get there I’m walking to Looe. It doesn’t scan as well as New Orleans. But I’m sure the journey compares favourably.

Looe was ere!

The next step was a quick dap up the river, crossing the bridge and a march up the next cliff. But on the way reality kicked in. A poor Navy lad, killed by a nasty get on a motorbike. He got a suspended sentence and Rohan’s parents get a life of grief. The legal system letting decent folk down again.

I didn’t realise that my mate Gary Illingworth was here.

Then up the cliffs again looking back.

And a bank of pure beauty.

Then I came across a place called Downderry.

Che picked me up and I’m back at camp. Great day, great walk.

Night night.