Adventure starts mid-July, 2012

Friday, July 20, 2012

Friday, July 20, 2012 – Land’s End to Portreath

A four-hour drive took us from Salisbury to Land’s End. It felt strange to be there again.  Not only was I back in a place I never expected to see again, but I was in a place I didn’t really see the first time I was there.  It was all surreal.

Last year, heavy morning fog obscured even the nearby buildings.  This year, the Scilly Islands, 28 miles off shore, were visible on the horizon.  Breaking the ocean’s surface a few hundred yards off shore are several small rocks, fitted with a beacon to warn passing boats of the danger – rocks that simply did not exist last year in the fog.  Or perhaps it was merely my mind in a fog.
As Janet and I strolled around, we encountered a group of a half-dozen teenage boys , wearing cycling jerseys and sitting next to the walkway near their bikes.  The young boys were drinking champagne with their parents,boys and parents all glowing with such satisfaction that I knew instantly what had  transpired.  Engaging one of the boys in conversation confirmed my conclusion that the boys had just finished cycling from John O’Groats.  It had taken them 12 days.
As I congratulated one of the boys on his incredible achievement with a hearty “Well done,” I wasn’t even tempted to welcome him to the club.  This was his day – their day, if you include his parents, -- no need to  interject reminiscences of an old man.

Janet and I then walked to the "public footpath" sign marking the South West Coast Path, and continued on with a one-mile walk to Sennen Cove.  The trail looked oddly familiar, but his time it was shared with dozens of people out enjoying the sunny day.  Last year there were no more than a handful of people periodically emerging from the fog like so many ghosts. But for me, the ghosts were still there.

We then returned to the car park and drove north, following the coastal road through Trewellard, where I  pointed out the gypsy caravan in which I stayed; to Pendeen, where I pointed out the post office from which I mailed my maps and duffel, and the small grocery store that provided the mailing box; and past the small lay-by where Nora Too!! was parked.  I felt like Juan, driving Joan Wilder and Jack Colton through his village as they escaped Zolo and his gun-firing police in “Romancing the Stone.”
At Hayle, the bakery where I was advised to buy a medium steak pasty was closed in the late afternoon, and the adjacent bench where I ate lunch was empty.   The afternoon was waning, so I telephoned the Cliff House B&B from Hayle to advise them of our late arrival.  Viv said I shouldn’t be concerned because Hayle was only a 20 minute drive from Portreath.  Last year it took me half a day to get there from Hayle.
Arriving at the Cliff House, I noticed that innkeeper Simon had kindly placed markers in the guest book where my signature appeared from last year, and where Jack Frost’s signature appeared from two weeks prior.   It was hard to avoid choking up.
Portreath Harbour
After dinner, Janet and I strolled down to the harbor, and on a whim decided to ascend the road up to lighthouse point.  The climb, which seemed so difficult last year with a 35-pound backback , was a piece of cake this year.  Janet remarked that from the three miles of the route that she walked today, she honestly believed that she could walk all the way to John O’Groats if she didn’t have to carry a backpack.  Perhaps so – she’s more fit than most women a third of her age – but I wonder how she would handle the rain.


(c) 2012 Ken Klug

2 comments:

  1. That is pretty nice that you can come back a year later and retrace your tracks and this time with Janet. You even have nice weather, what a treat!

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  2. Let's hope the weather will be as nice at JOG as it was at Land's End. That would give you two places you've been to, but not really seen.

    The pins on your map are progressing a bit faster this year.

    Shirley

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