Distance covered today: 13.2km (8,2mi)
Last night's B&B: The Royal Inn
% Complete: Cumulative distance: 62.3%: 664.1km
Total Ascent/Total Descent: 440m/ 484m
GPS satellite track of today's route: Day 36(click!)
Today was almost the easiest and certainly one of the more interesting walks of the trip this year. Not only was it the second shortest, but also one of the least lumpy. Given the benign circumstances, you will be dismayed to hear that it gave me time to think about 'walk lumpiness' as a descriptive parameter of long distance walks. The stats in the introduction above describe the total ascent and descent on the day, but the severity of the climb obviously also depends on the length of the walk. Given that today's walk was shorter than usual, the lower total ascent might not give a true indication of the severity of the climbing involved. Thus I have devised, uniquely for your edification, a new concept called the "Lumpiness Quotient" of a given walk!! It is defined as the the vertical distance ascended divided by the horizontal distance marched.
You will be even more disheartened to hear that I have applied this concept to the data for the entire Coast Path to date, and the results are very interesting! (well to me, at least!). It turns out that the leg with the highest lumpiness quotient to date was Day 23: Zennor to Pendeen, last year, at a figure of 59m climbed/km walked. The more long-suffering of you will recall that I squealed like a stuck pig about that experience. By comparison, today's value was just 33m/km, just more than half the severity. Also, the most severe of this trip's walks, which only weighs in in 11th place out of 36,was at 41m/km, Cadgwith Cove to Porthoustock, where I also remember whinging a lot!
To be boringly precise, the climbing figures are taken from my Garmin walking satnav, which uses a combination of GPS and atmospheric pressure to measure altitude. As the weather deteriorates, atmospheric pressure declines ("The glass is falling!", said the ancient mariners!), so the satnav thinks I have climbed higher (to a lower atmospheric pressure) than is actually the case, and the opposite is true as the weather improves. In fact I have gradually begun to use this phenomenon as a weather forecast where I drop to sea level in a succession of coves! ( I know that I am at the same altitude, so if the satnav says the altitude is higher, it means the atmospheric pressure is lower and bad weather is on its way!) To cater for this phenomenon, I should adjust my lumpiness quotient by the published changes in atmospheric pressure for the location on the day, but I'm sure even the diminishingly tiny proportion of readers who are still reading this will agree that life really is too short! Enough!!
Before delving too deeply into data, I did say that today was interesting. For a start, after leaving Polkerris I was again in undiscovered country after a couple of days of familiar territory. Soon I was approaching a lighthouse that wasn't a lighthouse! The Daymark was erected by Trinity House, a charity dedicated to safeguarding shipping and seafarers, on land owned by another of those Rashleighs, this time William of Menabilly, who granted the land for the tower on the basis that they would "make the Beacon an ornament to my grounds"; hence the tenders issued by Trinity House were for the erection of a ‘very handsome Greco Gothic Square Tower’. It's purpose was to warn seafarers to avoid the shallow waters of St Austell Bay while approaching Fowey harbour (pronounced "Foy", inevitably). It seemed to me completely incongruous, but who am I to judge?
Next up, after a delightful sojourn in a little forest resplendent with wild garlic, was a descent to Polridmouth (pronounced Pridmth), where I encountered the original beach house that inspired Daphne du Maurier's novel, "Rebecca". "Manderley" is really Menabilly of the Rashleighs, where Daphne lived for many years, up the valley from Polridmouth.
Then it was on to Fowey, where I paid a visit to St Catherine's Castle built by Thomas Treffry in 1540 as one of Henry VIII's defences against his enemies in Spain and France. There I met a very upset Vanessa ("Ness") who thought that she had lost her carkeys and was going to have to walk back to Par with her daughter's elderly dog that she was "nannying". Happily she discovered the keys in yet another of the many zipped compartments of her voluminous handbag!
Fowey is itself an attractive and interesting little town, trendy and touristy to be sure, but with an interesting history. Once upon a time the rambunctious resident sailors made a sport of marauding the French on a private basis. Accordingly, the French attacked Fowey and set fire to it in 1457, and the residents were not impressed. In 1469, a local hero, John Willcock, captured 15 French ships off the Britanny coast. This embarrassed King Edward IV, who had just made peace with the French, and he sent an envoy to tell the residents to desist. The unfortunate fellow was sent back minus an ear. I will be careful to mind my ps and qs!
I am staying tonight in the oldest residential building in Fowey, with many early features still in existence, and carefully identified. I had dinner tonight in a pub called "The King Of Prussia" named after a pirate called John Carter who had that nickname. He haled from Prussia Cove which I passed on the first day of this trip on my way from Marazion to Praa Sands. My father, whose ancestors came from Prussia would have been proud! My mother, from Ireland, would have been sceptical!
You will be even more disheartened to hear that I have applied this concept to the data for the entire Coast Path to date, and the results are very interesting! (well to me, at least!). It turns out that the leg with the highest lumpiness quotient to date was Day 23: Zennor to Pendeen, last year, at a figure of 59m climbed/km walked. The more long-suffering of you will recall that I squealed like a stuck pig about that experience. By comparison, today's value was just 33m/km, just more than half the severity. Also, the most severe of this trip's walks, which only weighs in in 11th place out of 36,was at 41m/km, Cadgwith Cove to Porthoustock, where I also remember whinging a lot!
To be boringly precise, the climbing figures are taken from my Garmin walking satnav, which uses a combination of GPS and atmospheric pressure to measure altitude. As the weather deteriorates, atmospheric pressure declines ("The glass is falling!", said the ancient mariners!), so the satnav thinks I have climbed higher (to a lower atmospheric pressure) than is actually the case, and the opposite is true as the weather improves. In fact I have gradually begun to use this phenomenon as a weather forecast where I drop to sea level in a succession of coves! ( I know that I am at the same altitude, so if the satnav says the altitude is higher, it means the atmospheric pressure is lower and bad weather is on its way!) To cater for this phenomenon, I should adjust my lumpiness quotient by the published changes in atmospheric pressure for the location on the day, but I'm sure even the diminishingly tiny proportion of readers who are still reading this will agree that life really is too short! Enough!!
Before delving too deeply into data, I did say that today was interesting. For a start, after leaving Polkerris I was again in undiscovered country after a couple of days of familiar territory. Soon I was approaching a lighthouse that wasn't a lighthouse! The Daymark was erected by Trinity House, a charity dedicated to safeguarding shipping and seafarers, on land owned by another of those Rashleighs, this time William of Menabilly, who granted the land for the tower on the basis that they would "make the Beacon an ornament to my grounds"; hence the tenders issued by Trinity House were for the erection of a ‘very handsome Greco Gothic Square Tower’. It's purpose was to warn seafarers to avoid the shallow waters of St Austell Bay while approaching Fowey harbour (pronounced "Foy", inevitably). It seemed to me completely incongruous, but who am I to judge?
Next up, after a delightful sojourn in a little forest resplendent with wild garlic, was a descent to Polridmouth (pronounced Pridmth), where I encountered the original beach house that inspired Daphne du Maurier's novel, "Rebecca". "Manderley" is really Menabilly of the Rashleighs, where Daphne lived for many years, up the valley from Polridmouth.
Then it was on to Fowey, where I paid a visit to St Catherine's Castle built by Thomas Treffry in 1540 as one of Henry VIII's defences against his enemies in Spain and France. There I met a very upset Vanessa ("Ness") who thought that she had lost her carkeys and was going to have to walk back to Par with her daughter's elderly dog that she was "nannying". Happily she discovered the keys in yet another of the many zipped compartments of her voluminous handbag!
Fowey is itself an attractive and interesting little town, trendy and touristy to be sure, but with an interesting history. Once upon a time the rambunctious resident sailors made a sport of marauding the French on a private basis. Accordingly, the French attacked Fowey and set fire to it in 1457, and the residents were not impressed. In 1469, a local hero, John Willcock, captured 15 French ships off the Britanny coast. This embarrassed King Edward IV, who had just made peace with the French, and he sent an envoy to tell the residents to desist. The unfortunate fellow was sent back minus an ear. I will be careful to mind my ps and qs!
I am staying tonight in the oldest residential building in Fowey, with many early features still in existence, and carefully identified. I had dinner tonight in a pub called "The King Of Prussia" named after a pirate called John Carter who had that nickname. He haled from Prussia Cove which I passed on the first day of this trip on my way from Marazion to Praa Sands. My father, whose ancestors came from Prussia would have been proud! My mother, from Ireland, would have been sceptical!
But to top it all, the world snooker championship is back on TV! Now there's a mathematical game which includes a huge element of psychology, careful pre-match practice and planning. Just like long-distance walking! I am back in my element!
The lovely harbour at Polkerris
Morning coffee in the Rashleigh Arms in Polkerris (The Rashleighs are ubiquitous hereabouts)
The Daymark, "a very handsome Greco Roman Square Tower", but don't sail at night because as the the name suggests, there is no light!
Dartmouth ponies with the Dodman in the distance behind them
Tomorrow's objectives looming ominously....
Wild garlic prolific in the forest
Descending to the twin coves at Polridmouth
The beach house below Menabilly, which inspired Dapne du Maurier's novel "Rebecca". In the novel, Menabilly was "Manderley", where du Maurier lived for many years
The lake beside the beach house
Fowey comes into view
St Catherine's Castle, built as one of Henry VIII's coastal defences
Inside the castle. Eerie!
Vanessa, happy after the panic
Fowey
Polruan,my destination by ferry in the morning
Heavy gun emplacements at the castle
Ironically, Veronica informed me that she had just signed me up to become a member of the National Trust as I was passing through this estate! Of course!!
The elegant front houses of Fowey
And its elegant hotel (beyond my means!)
An original balustrade, with one element upside down apparently for superstitious reasons!
The earliest occupied residence in Fowey
Oh my gosh Rebecca! How wonderful to be reminded of that dark and looming yet totally compelling tale. I think I’ll have to go back and reread it...... the morose Mrs Danvers! Sorry, as you can see I am totally distracted by this, and not even vaguely drawn by your lumpy science.
ReplyDeleteWell, OK, I grant you that, though I suspect even if Rebecca hadn't been so compelling, you would still have been bored by my science.....
DeleteDo you take the tide into account when calibrating the Garmin?
ReplyDeleteNow Rob, this is an interesting question, and I'm not sure I fully understand it. If the question is whether the Garmin takes into account the tide when calculating the elevation about sea-level, I don't think so. I think it uses the standard definition of the Mean High Water Mark as its datum, but frankly, it just isn't that accurate. GPS and Glonass together are accurate to within 2 or three metres in horizontal positioning, but far less accurate vertically, presumably for obvious trigonometric reasons. Combine that with atmospheric pressure interventions and we are left with approximations!
Delete