David left this morning and I was meeting Sandra and Colin this afternoon in Portloe. I finished short of Falmouth yesterday but I had to crack on today, so this left a gap between Porthallow, where we finished yesterday, and Falmouth, where we slept last night. I’m going to have to fill this gap next week.

David dropped me at the quay in Falmouth, after we had a decent breakfast in the guest house that we stayed in. I made the 9.15am ferry to St Mawes.

Looking back Falmouth was overcast.

And immediately on arrival in St Mawes the tiny ferry to Place Bay was waiting to take me, and several other coast path walkers, on the second leg.

On landing I was the first off and away…. Over the hills and down to the sea on the Roseland Peninsula.

Then turn left and leg it along low cliffs above nice beaches.

The first place of note was Portscatho, which was an expensive and beautiful village. I had a flat white …… oooh get me!

Then set off again to meet Ray, the manager in charge of the local coastal watch station. He was expansive about a distinguished aeronautical career in the RAF and for Aerospace. A decent man of 78! Looked younger than me and certainly more slender. Nice man.

The cliffs were still reasonably low, so no massive climbs, and I made progress.

After 6 hours walking I made it to Portloe, a beautiful, tiny harbour, and our rendezvous location, the Ship Inn.

Colin and Sandra left the car they came down in at our last campsite near Par, and came down by taxi. It was good to see Sandra, who I hadn’t seen for 25 years or so since we worked at Interface. And Colin, who I hadn’t met before.

We walked inland to Sandra’s Guest House accommodation and the owner offered to drive me and Colin to our campsite. On the way she said that she had a field behind the guest house, we could camp in that and have breakfast tomorrow in the guest house.

Never look a gift horse in the mouth. Yes please miss!!!!!

We walked down to Veryan, the nearest village, had some very nice pub grub for dinner, and back to the guest house for an early night.

Sorry to see Killer go but happy to have new company. I must be getting sociable in my old age!

Night night.

Today was the last walking day with Señor Kilby. He’s been down here for 8 days and it has been great walking, fishing, eating, drinking and having a laugh together. Although laughter is limited, as this is a serious enterprise. Honest!

We’ve covered 75 miles, climbing the equivalent of halfway up Everest, and raised money for the RNLI in the process.

We got up early, 7am for me and some Godawful hour for Señor, packed up the tents and our gear into the car and drove up to Helston for the last time.

Breakfast in Wetherspoons, the big one for £8, and then the bus back to Coverack. It was overcast and drizzling but the sun occasionally sneaked through.

It wasn’t a long day today. Five miles to Porthallow and another two back to St Kaverne for the bus to Helston.

What a great name for a boat.

We made very good time over reasonable undulation of land, as opposed to the snakes and ladders we’d been playing for the last 8 days.

It was a strangely industrial area this little corner of the Lizard. Abandoned industrial, with empty quays and old quarries.

Within no time whatsoever we were in Porthallow. The end of our walk of the coast path together. And coincidentally it is exactly halfway point on the path. I’ve done 315 miles and David’s been here for the last 75, which were the most beautiful.

We got a lift with a lad going to Helston, drove to Falmouth, checked in to a Guest House, did my blog and laundry (all in a quandary) and David’s going to buy me a curry. HOOOORAAAY!!!!!

Tomorrow Colin and Sandra join me for a few days. It will be good to see them.

Night night.

Thanks Joe. But we still didn’t know.

Last night on the campsite we had a drink before resting within tent, and there were a few locals in. Discussing Eurovision and life.

The Swiss entry won larst noit. A non-binary or summaat.

Oi don’t even know what that means, non-binary. Wot’s binary?

Non-binary is someone who doesn’t know if they’re a maan or a woman.

Surely they know if they have a willy or naat.

Oi don’t think it’s about thaat. In the big cities they have this wokery and you get in trouble.

It started raining at 5am this morning and it was so heavy that the tent started to leak. The wind picked up. Should we walk or should we stay now?

Walk! From The Lizard to Coverack, but the weather was very windy and very wet. We drove to Helston and got a bus up to the Lizard, after a half-decent Wetherspoons breakfast.

APOLOGIES FOR DAVID’S USE OF F WORD LANGUAGE IN THIS VIDEO. WE WERE IN AN EXTREME METEOROLOGICAL SITUATION. NOT FOR CHILDREN! YOU CAN TAKE THE MAN OUT OF ESSEX!

This is our view of Lizard Point looking back. It’s the southernmost tip of the UK mainland.

If anything, the weather got worse. The sea was wild and the reality of the role of the RNLI was brought into sharp focus by the conditions, in which they regularly have to launch.

Nevertheless we stuck to the path and made sure that we were careful along the cliff top sections. We were very wet. However many waterproof coverings you have there is always a way that the water gets through to you. It did.

We walked for 6 hours non-stop, although the condition of the coast path deteriorated along this less-frequented section. The photos make the situation look quite calm but the weather, in reality, was rough. You don’t want to get your phone out to take photos. It might blow out of your hand, it will get soaked and you just want to get where you’re going quickly.

As the afternoon moved along the rain eased and the wind dropped slightly. We were quite muddied up by now and were pleased to see a sign indicating that it was only 1 mile on the path to Coverack.

It was the most difficult mile of the path so far. It dropped down on slippy boulders, through very thick and soaking vegetation, and crossed along the cliff side on boggy land. There was no maintenance of this section at all. It took us nearly an hour to cover the mile, climbing down the boulders and working our way through the high plants. By which time the weather had improved.

Luckily we had arrived before the last bus to Helston. It sounds very American. Last bus to Helston! Last train to Clarkesville! Last exit to Brooklyn! So we hunkered down near the only bus stop.

We waited for the 16.02, which turned out to be the 16.22, which turned up on time. Daft out of date schedules. Then all the way to Helston, and on to Porthleven in the car, and on to the Ship Inn on foot for fish and chips followed by the Villa vs Liv match on the big screen at the campsite pub.

A long, wet, windy, muddy, slippy and difficult day.

That’s when the tough get going!

Night night.

Thanks Mark.

Last night we drank Rattler. It’s quite a fruity local draught cider, so it doesn’t feel like alcohol. Until you’ve had one or two. There was a singer on in the pub on site, and we had a good evening singing along.

It was overcast this morning, but the low cloud cover drifted in and out. We set off walking from the campsite at 8.30, and by the time we got into Porthleven the bakery was open and sold us quiche, and a cafe became open and sold us coffee. And away…

At 9.20 the locals were jumping in from the quayside in the sun. Hardy folk.

And the waves were crashing on to the cliffs and the jetty.

As we headed southwards along the coast the cloud cover lowered and thickened and the temperature dropped. It became atmospheric and then bloody cold. Cold, I tell you! It’s great isn’t it – I tell you!

It was actually a good temperature for walking today, as we were covering 14 miles and climbing 2,500 feet. The first few miles were on a reasonable level and we covered ground quickly. Then the path started to climb, fall and climb.

It may have been over 200 years ago that HMS Anson ran aground, but the sadness and enormity of the event remains palpable on the cliffs overlooking the site of the disaster.

The ebb and flow of the low cloud resulted in some amazing views. Like this one.

This was tough climbing. Until we found a beach cafe and had bacon baps and coffee. Reinvigorating!!!

Three exclamation marks always make the difference.

David took the opportunity to take the RNLI donation box around the outside seating area, as there was a big bunch of motorbikers, and they were generous in their contribution.

The sky cleared.

There are warning signs at the dangerous drop areas, but I’ve learnt my lesson.

We were aiming to get to the Lizard before 3.30 and catch the bus back to Porthleven. It was hard work and the coast path signage wasn’t great so we took two wrong turns, and that cost us. Five minutes to be precise. We arrived five minutes after the bus left. So we went round to Lizard Argyll’s football ground, David joined the club for £2 and we had some beer and watched football on tv.

We caught the 5.30 bus to Helston, missing the last connection to Porthleven, but we jumped straight onto a taxi for the last two miles.

A great day’s walking, with a burger for Dav and some cheesy chilli chips for me to finish it off.

Night night.

We needed to move campsite. The walks were getting out of our bus range. So we upped tents this morning, before the first sparrow even had time to rattle out a Donald.

We drove over to Porthleven on the Lizard Peninsula, from where we could more effectively co-ordinate our logistical approach to the next few days. Oooh, get him. Logistical doo dahs and all that!

We put the pop up tents up at Mill Lane Campsite and walked down to the village to get a bus to Penzance. And we did get one, next to the port.

In Penzance we had one of the best breakfasts in the western hemisphere and then set off round the coast towards Marazion, sporting our RNLI shirts and flags. We collected more money for the cause. The respect for the lifeboat volunteers is immense down here. The people know that they risk their lives to save others. Unpaid.

St Michael’s Mount was empirical in the morning sun.

We were having a gas.

Who would want to fire a cannon at St Michael’s Mount? The bloody French!

Sorry Chantal. Only kidding!

We met a couple coming in the opposite direction who were raising money for the RNLI! They set off a year ago and were 11 days away from completing a 6,000 mile walk of the UK coastline. Unbelievable.

Praa Sands was a proper Cornish resort. We observed its propriety by drinking cider there on our route.

This was a long walk for us. Around 14 miles. But we are up for it and we have a positive attitude and the weather is so much in our favour, with sun and cooling wind.

Our first view of Porthleven came around the next corner.

We came back into a small area of tin mining activity.

It was a great walk and we could anticipate the end when we saw the harbour open up.

We arrived at the Ship Inn, had a pint of cider and a couple passing by spotted our RNLI gear. They bought us some more cider for our endeavours. How kind. Thank you.

A very good day’s walking with my mate.

Night night.

At Sparrow’s Fart we got up and drove to Porthcurno on the Channel coast, parking the car up there and walking around the thin red line, although it was on land and not in the sea like my fingernail traced it!

Halfway to Mousehole is Lamorna Cove and we were aiming for breakfast there. The weather started clear and chilly, but it was dry. That’s the main thing. Then the plan was to get a bus back from Penzance to pick the car up and drive back to the tents.

David has a dangling Elvis on his dashboard and a leopard skin steering wheel cover. How cool is that? It’s so lovable that you don’t want to leave the car. But we did.

Anyway, this is a stunning part of the coast path. I know I keep saying that but it all is.

The path climbs out of Porthcurno and down to the sea and up to the cliffs and down…. etc etc.

We woke two wild horses sleeping on the bluebells. Sorry kids!

It was a very difficult section of path, including a section where you have to jump from boulder to boulder. Thank goodness we didn’t have rucksacks on.

What we thought was a quick couple of hours to Lamorna became more and more difficult. More lovely too,

It took us nearly four hours to reach Lamorna. We were hungry, tired and stroked by what had become a hot day. We lost the path for a while and ended up inland about a mile from the coast. I got worried somewhat. Oooh, somewhat is it? Yep! I got worried that there wasn’t anywhere open for breakfast, or anything else resembling refreshment.

Then we found a cafe down by the sea at the end of the road. No breakfast but pasties, coffee, treacle cake and clotted cream. Enough calories to keep us old buzzards on track.

The path got a bit Lord of the Ringsy.

Then a moment of sad and quiet reflection. Whilst David is with me we are raising money for the RNLI. I dropped down to a memorial area and it was the part of the coast where the Penlee lifeboat turned out in horrific weather on the 19th December 1981, for a stricken cargo vessel. It looks so idyllic now that it’s hard to imagine the terrible conditions of that night.

The Union Star vessel grounded with the loss of all 8 crew and passengers on board. All 8 members of the Penlee lifeboat crew perished trying to save them.

We’re so glad that we’re raising money for the RNLI.

We passed a very exotic estate on the way to Mousehole. The path was calming down. It was becoming easier to negotiate.

Mousehole was a pretty village, leading on to Newlyn, a massive fishing port by UK standards, and Penzance.

We passed the site of the old Penlee lifeboat station. A lot of sad history now locked inside the empty boathouse.

Then we got our RNLI flags, collection box and shirts on clear display.

Talking to people on the way into Penzance we collected a lot of donations. There is immense feeling for their role, history and continuing purpose.

Returning to Porthcurno we collected the car, bought some scran and went back to our lovely site at Kelynack for a barbecue of burgers and sweet peppers.

A great day.

Night night.

But before we go there, here are some of David Kilby’s shots from yesterday! Hooray! All of me! Hooray!

Today we started out early from our campsite, around 7.45am, walking down to the coast path and turning left towards Lands End. Good, dry weather, if a little chilly. Across the valley was a genuine and ancient stone circle.

How rich in history is this land.

We were aiming for Sennen Cove, five miles away, for breakfast. But the views were distracting and delightful.

By the time we got there the cafe was full and we would have had to wait a while, so we carried on to Lands End.

Then we looked around the tourist centre, hunting for breakfast, and had to settle for coffee and pasties. A great alternative to the full Cornish, as it turned out.

From Lands End we were heading down to Porthgwarra and on to Porthcurno, shifting round from the Celtic Sea to the English Channel. The views on the way were absolutely fabulous.

We were blessed with great, great weather and very few other walkers on the coast path. Around every corner was a fabulous view. Just about so beautiful that it was a coastline beyond belief.

We meandered down to Porthgwarra, at the start of the Channel, which is a tiny hamlet that Susie and Pete, Maggie’s sister and BiL, stay in each year. Fabulous spot,

Then we headed up the Channel, eastwards, towards Porthcurno. The path wasn’t too difficult, but it was a long walk, even without rucksacks. Finally we found St Levan’s Well. Thank Christ for that as we didn’t even know he was badly.

It’s all too beautiful. Thanks Steve.

Then we caught the bus from Porthcurno to St Just, had fish pie in the Commercial Inn and then walked back to the tents for an early night.

What a great day.

Night night.

Thanks Paul. I didn’t today. David Kilby knocked on my tent door at 8am and we walked up to St Just with minimal back pack stuff. We had to return to Zennor, where David picked me up yesterday, and hopefully walk back here to Kelynack. A long schlep but being freed from heavy rucksacks we could cover this.

The morning was warmer. I had slept very well in my pop up tent and I was ready to rock and roll. We walked back into St Just. The first bus to Zennor was 10.38am and we decided to have breakfast at the Commercial Inn in St Just. Great full Cornish scran!

David set up a JustGiving page for the RNLI for this stage of our walk and was wearing his RNLI vest.

I’m walking with David in support of the Lifeboat Association for the next ten days. The people who risk their own lives without pay to save the lives of others. At all hours of the day, in all seasons, in all weather with selfless commitment. These brave few. This band of brothers and sisters, deserve our support.

Please feel free to donate to the RNLI through our website. I know I have been walking in aid of Prostate Cancer UK but if you haven’t donated to that cause then please contribute to the RNLI. I am exclusively supporting them with David whilst we are walking together around the south west of England. The link is below.

https://www.justgiving.com/page/david-kilby-1713340058267

After breakfast we caught the bus to Zennor, got off at The Gurnard’s Head, and headed down a footpath to the coast.

One of the problems is that this trek goes through so much stunningly beautiful country that you become accustomed to it and expect it.

This headland, from a certain angle (but not this one!), looks like a Gurnard’s head. That’s what it’s called. From whatever angle it’s the dog’s in this weather!

The path had become a roller-coaster again. And when we were up we were up…..

But then we went back down again.

We did make good time but the day was drifting on and we needed to push it a bit. Fortunately there were a few areas where it was flatter and we could up our pace. Then looking back was brilliant. I can’t even see the climbers on these rocks opposite.

Looking forward we could just see the Pendeen lighthouse half-hidden behind the cliff’s shoulder.

When we reached it the view beyond the lighthouse was very industrial, with lots of chimneys and hundreds of mineshafts, many of which are uncapped.

Going underground? Thanks Paul.

Finally we made it to within sight of Cape Cornwall, where we were to head inland back to St Just and the campsite.

So we did. To our lovely tents!

David Kilby knocked on my tent door at 07.15, and we drove down to Penzance on our day off. We’d hoped to go out on a boat fishing in three days time but the company had contacted me last night to say we might not get out then due to the weather forecast. They said today would be ok, so we agreed.

What a day we had, catching loads of fish in the morning and having a barbecue back at the campsite all afternoon.

We ate for England, a huge amount of fish and jacket potatoes. Ready for recommencing our trek tomorrow. Lands End or bust!

Night night.

I hadn’t taken my clothes off for three days, even in my sleeping bag. I was beginning to whiff a bit, as you could well imagine. So this morning I packed up the tarp early, after a broken night’s sleep, and went up to the shower block.

It was hot and delightful and I turned myself clean with liberally applied shower gel. I released anti-perspirant on my sweat zones. In fact I feel good, so good. Thanks James.

It was overcast when I set off from the site down to the coast path and turned right, back in to St Ives.

It is a nice town but last night, on my way in, there were a lot of people who detracted from the place. It was a bit like walking through inner city Leeds, but not as big. Dodgy buggers.

This morning it was lovely. and the sky cleared a bit as I walked along the harbour.

Stopping at a Cafe I ordered a Flat White with aplomb and a big bloomer breakfast. I’m becoming a latter day bloke. Wow, was it good! Well yes it was.

Then back to the walk.

After a half mile the view back was great, with a clearer sky.

It was similar to a lot of North Cornwall, with inaccessible, beautiful beaches that only folk in boats can enjoy.

The route round to Zennor was less than 8 miles. Sillily, I thought that it would be easier than it turned out to be. But it was more spectacular than I thought, than I remembered from 10 years ago when I was a young lad.

I love these playful clouds in a line along the north coast.

It was so clear that I could see way further up the coast, beyond Bude, and incredibly there, resting on the horizon, was the Island of Lundy. I could only see it when I was high up on the cliffs, the earth’s curvature slipping it behind the horizon when the path dropped down towards sea level. Lundy must be 60 miles away. Incredible!

Further round the coast was a stone circle on the cliff top. It looks a bit contrived and more recent than Stone Age. Interesting though.

The path began to get a bit wilder. Boulders blocking a clear pathway and having to scramble up the hills, which got harder to scale. But the difficulty of the path was matched by the amazing scenery. I’m running out of superlatives.

There were more warnings about open mine shafts, hidden in the undergrowth, and the pale line of rock running along this coast line showed how molten minerals were pumped up to the earth’s surface. And tilted with time.

I was getting tired now. My rucksack restricting my movement over the boulder fields and my previous few days’ efforts taking a bit of a toll. My mate David Kilby was driving down to join me and I went into Zennor to use the Wi-Fi of The Tinners to call him. We arranged to meet at the Gurnard’s Head, two miles away, and I legged it along the road to meet him there.

It was a pleasant reunion with my Everest partner and we drove round to St Just, where we were camping at Kelynack campsite. David produced two pop up tents, which we popped up.

Then we walked back over the hill to St Just, enjoyed a few drinks and a decent pub meal, then returned to our pop ups.

And hunkered down for the night. Will I sleep better in a tent than under me tarp? Let’s find out.

Night night.

What have you put that for?

Well, I thought it was super and I’m superannuated.

What, you’re a pension scheme or summat?

No dear, the definition is ‘outdated or obsolete through age or new developments’. If that isn’t me then I can’t imagine who it would be. Both outdated and obsolete, as a member of society and with no value to the community whatsoever. I’m crap.

Again I’d had to come quite far inland for a campsite but it was just a couple of miles to the sea.

A delightful cafe perched here at Hell’s Mouth, staffed by young, enthusiastic kids. And the breakfast was the dog’s doo dahs.

Then down and around the cliffs to Godrevy. On to the beach where Maggie’s sister Susie and her husband Pete come down on holiday. Lovely area.

At the end of this beach is Hayle, just 6 miles from St Ives where I’ll pitch my tarp. I can see St Ives and it’s so close. But a long way around the bay.

The last time I walked this route the area here was grassy marshland. With this very high tide everything was under water.

What more can I say? I was just walking. That’s all I do. It isn’t remarkably interesting, but some of my views are. Like this Crimean War siege mortar.

I grabbed a cheese sandwich from a Spar in Carbis Bay and then when I put my foot down, and rounded a corner, I saw my destination. St Ives.

Foot further down and I made it up to the campsite up the hill, grabbing a small tray of mashed potato from Spar on the way.

Looking down on to the back of the town from the campsite was stunning as the sun went down.

I’m going down too, after I’ve eaten my mash cold with a spoon. Heavenly.

213 miles done, 398 to go. Hooray!

Night night.