Day 13: Crackington Haven to Tintagel

Weather: Sunny to start with cold breeze, then cloudy

Distance covered today: 18.0 km ( 11.2mi)

Last night's B&B: Hannah's Cottage

% Complete: Cumulative distance:24.7 %: 250.1km

Total Ascent/Total Descent:  884m/ 932m

GPS satellite track of today's route: Day 6 (click!)

The magic is returning, I think! Today’s walk was almost as tough as yesterday’s, but there were times when I felt I was floating along, and ups and downs didn’t seem so bad. Of course they may not have been as steep, which would account for it, but I do have a sense that the legs are hardening, that I have lost some weight and that the old body is responding as it should. The relevant metric is that when you look at the gadget, it confirms that you have walked further than you imagined. That says you are happy!

Not that I should be too blasé about it. I did meet a proper walker earlier on, an older fellow with wild grey hair and a bushy, grey beard, who spoke in a received English redolent of public school and who sailed past me with ease. It is his wont to stop frequently, extract his large SLR from somewhere in the folds of his hi-tech walking clothing and stare meaningfully through the viewfinder at a passing orchid. I would pant past him at this point, exchange pleasantries and the process would be repeated. He did though shame me into taking a picture of an orchid myself and I smirked with satisfaction at his incredulity that my little point-and-shoot could produce a decent image with its 30X optical zoom, equivalent to him lugging around something like a 700mm focal length lens, more than half a meter in length! He would no doubt argue that the quality of my picture will be suspect, so I have included it and you be the judge. I lost him at a farm shop near Boscastle, where he wanted to lunch, but I felt the need to keep going.

Talking of Boscastle, I had intended to visit the museum which commemorates the horrendous floods of 2005. A strange coincidence of atmospheric conditions resulted in a deluge of historic proportions, which washed much of the village along the river into the sea. It happened in a low-news summer period, grabbed the headlines for days and gripped the public’s imagination. Very fortunately, despite the destruction, not a single person died, and I vividly remember videos of cars floating down the raging torrent past devastated buildings. Subsequently the entire village was reconstructed exactly as it had been before the flood.

On arrival, I was immediately conscious of a much higher concentration of visitors than in other coastal resorts. Also, I have to say, I wasn’t that impressed by the village architecture and the amenities are clearly directed to the trippers. Is it too unkind to suggest that the visitors are here ghoulishly to relive the tragedy? I suggest on the contrary that there is no bad publicity, and the visitors are here because they have heard of it. Who knows?

In any case, I was too embarrassed even to ask directions to the disaster museum (which was understandably not at all apparent) and left as soon as I could.  I was much happier on the cliffs.

Talking of disasters, I mentioned yesterday the Bude Light and promised to return to it. The key to getting a bright light from the combustion of carbon is to get as much oxygen to the carbon as quickly as possible. The Argand lamp achieved this with a cylindrical wick so that air could reach both inside and outside of the wick and the addition of a chimney streamlined the convection currents, increasing the airflow and hence the brightness. Sir Goldsworthy (good name) Gurney (not so sure!) of Bude improved on this design by adding oxygen directly to the flow, producing extremely strong combustion and a very white light. He used prisms and mirrors to refract and reflect the light throughout his home, Bude Castle (see yesterday’s pic). So successful was this that the idea was used to light the Houses of Parliament in 1839 and was used there for 50 years. More importantly it was used to light lighthouses along the coast, no doubt saving many lives.

I find it interesting to reflect on the Rev Robert Hawker (see Day 11) and Sir Goldsworthy. Hawker mourned and celebrated the sailors lost lives. Goldsworthy saved them.

Yet I prefer Hawker’s hut to Goldsworthy’s Castle.

Tomorrow, thank goodness, is a rest day (at last): no post

On the way to supper from my B&B in the sky last night. No wonder I have a giant's shadow

Proceeding through the delightful Ludon Valley

Veronica is the beautiful dog-rose and I am the irritating bumblebee. That said, we made magic, twice!

This old fellow was trying to tell his sister's Shetlands that they wouldn't enjoy his cheroot. They were trying to tell him to improve on the offer!

The cliff at Crackington Haven 

Looking back to Crackington Haven in the sunlight

Crackington Haven recedes and the clouds appear

Architectural cliffs perhaps, but for me this looks like Australopithecus 

Crackington Haven almost out of view

The view down the coast towards Boscastle

Unknown bird of prey

In flight!

The coast changes. Now there are these bulbous, undermined bluffs

And beautiful bays

And waterfalls

And, of course, Orchids! (100m away. So there!)

Pentargon Bay really is a pentagon! Who knew?

Beautiful Cornish wall with spring flowers

The approach to Boscastle Harbour

Boscastle Harbour

Boscastle from the harbour

The new bridge

Between the houses

 

I think this guy looks like me. Wild staring eyes, Neanderthal forehead, big jaw and great hair! Clearly a LEJOGer! 

Looking up the coast to Tintagel

More bluebells and sea blue

Fantastic Cornish dry stone walling. Worthy of the Tate!

And then a stile to extinction. A 100m sheer cliff on the other side!

More lovely bluffs being undermined by the restless sea

Crackington Haven is almost out of view

Approaching Tintagel. I had no idea the knights of the round table lived in caravans?!

Long Island. Eat your heart out, New York!

The Island at Tintagel. Tomorrow's quest