A very, very muddy walk

Sunday 24^th September

There was quite dense fog this morning, obscuring the views across the river. Although awake early, we took a while to get going, and the rain started. It’s difficult to tell when it is raining, because of the constant sound of running water from the little stream that comes down the higher garden and under the drive, right beside the studio. However, when water is dripping off the verandah roof it’s a good sign.

We deal Ok with rain that starts while we are out, but really didn’t want to begin a walk in a downpour, so we stayed at the studio and read for the rest of the morning. I’d made some soup at home, so we had that as an early lunch. By the time that was eaten, the rain had stopped and the sun was tentatively breaking through.

The first intention had been to walk to Fowey, take the car ferry to Bodinnick, walk round the inlet called Pont Pill, catch the passenger ferry back, and walk back to Golant. However, we needed to see how difficult the walk to Fowey was – and we found out. Starting with a very steep walk down the church lane nearly to the bottom of the hill, we crossed the road back to Fowey and headed up behind some lovely houses, with magnificent views. The road petered out and became, at once, a muddy footpath – part of the Saints Way, which pilgrims used to walk from Padstow to Fowey (34 miles), and then by sea to Spain and Santiago di Compostela.  

All the way, the path was under trees and in very deep cuttings – obviously ancient tracks - with a lot of up and down. Finally, we climbed up and out of the wood, across rising fields and onto the lane that leads to the road to Fowey. It brought us down into the town and lower down than we’d been yesterday, and we found a car park at this better level for shopping.  

It had become obvious that this was as much of a walk as we were prepared to do today, with the walk back. We watched the car ferry, mooched around to the harbour, ate a snack and started back.

We returned up the Saints Way lane to the point at which we would have gone down across fields. However, the map showed that the lane continues and becomes a footpath leading more directly to the higher level of Golant, so we opted to try that. Very soon, what tarmac there was disappeared and the track became extremely muddy. It went on and on like this, downhill and getting narrower. We plodged on for what seemed like miles, with the track getting darker and darker, finally reaching the bottom of the hill before climbing up again.  

By now, the lane was just a footpath and the mud not quite so deep, with less standing water. However, it was still overshadowed by very old trees and was very murky. Almost at the top, we heard a quad bike, and found it about to come down the path towards us – and there was not room for all of us. The driver reversed up and let us out onto another track. We tried to have a conversation with him but it soon became clear that he was profoundly deaf. He was able to tell us which way to go to Golant and we set off for the final leg, when the heavens opened. We made one mistake in map-reading, but finally found our way onto the road at the top of the village and down to the studio. We were both very wet and with very muddy boots.

As we were removing soggy clothes, the sun came out and stayed out for the rest of the evening.

Sort-of omelettes and salad for tea. 

15,460 steps, egrets, swans