South West Coast Path Day 10.
Distance today: 16.3 miles.
Total distance: 1270.7 miles.
Accommodation: campsite.
There have been many memorable views on this trip but as I headed towards Rock just after 7 o’clock, the view across the river was absolutely breathtaking. The photos definitely don’t do justice to the incredible morning glow which seemed to envelop the landscape, picking out all the pastel shades of the water and the sand and the fields and the sky. I was literally stopped in my tracks, incapable of doing anything other than saying ‘wow’. A lot. An amazing, humbling experience. No wonder people are prepared to pay a lot to live around here.
Less amazing was having to stick to my strict no-transport policy. Instead of catching the ferry from Rock to Padstow as per the official SWCP recommendation, I was walking a 12 mile detour to get to the nearest bridge. Whose stupid rule is this anyway? For the next 6 miles up to Wadebridge, I cobbled together a route along quiet country lanes, the occasional field, and when there was no alternative, annoyingly busy roads full of holidaymakers in a hurry to get to their destination. There were at least a couple of occasions when the map said there was a footpath and the farmer had decided otherwise. On route, I passed a few seriously expensive looking designer-houses, including Waterhouse which was a snip at £3,500,000. For some reason there were lots of pesky flies around and as it was hot enough for me to need sun tan lotion, I successfully managed to glue squadrons of the little blighters to my arms. That’ll teach ’em.
When I reached Wadebridge I stopped for a late breakfast and then picked up a few supplies including various ointments, plasters, and dressings to help my feet stay in working order. At some point on the trip, the soles of my feet had started to get very tender. The good news was that today was going to be a lazy sub 20 mile day as I planned to stop at Padstow.
The route from Wadebridge to Padstow was along the easy but mostly dull cycle path known as the Camel Trail. I’m sure it was fun if you were a cyclist. Perhaps not for the woman I encountered who had fallen off her bike and was left with a nasty cut on her leg. Cometh the hour, cometh the man who’d just bought a whole load of first aid kit that might be useful in a situation like this. Once she was patched up, the group she was with were trying to convince her that she’d be fine to continue. I don’t think she was so sure. I left them to it. My work here was done.
The Foreshore (Dennis Farm) campsite was on the near side of Padstow, right next to the trail, with a great view looking over the estuary. Should you want to have a bit more space, their other site was just a couple of hundred yards away. It looked like I’d caught up with Sam Elliot again. How come he is always ahead of me?
You had to traipse uphill to book in and your reward was having the cheeky bloke on reception take the piss out of you. “I love multi-day hikers. You’re all so weird, aren’t you?”. I’m not sure how you’re meant to respond to that. Later on, one of the other people working there came round with free food. Cheese, bread, fruit, wine … Apparently, lots of people in caravans and campervans couldn’t be bothered to take it home with them.
In the evening I went for a wander into Padstow. Welcome to Rick Stein Town. He was everywhere. There was a café; a fish and chip shop (complete with very long queue); a restaurant; and, my favourite, a homeware shop! Really? I’ll be honest. I struggled to fall in love with the town. It just seemed to be lacking some charm. Apart from being annoyingly difficult to photograph, the harbour felt more like a functional holding bay rather than a place where they’d be singing sea shanties. Treated myself to a pizza and a pint of Proper Job at the Shipwrights pub and then called it a night.
