Day 32 Portwrinkle to Plymouth (13.5 miles / 22km)

  Day 32  Portwrinkle to Plymouth  (13.5 miles / 22km)

This day marks  the end of a South West Coast Path chapter and the start of a new one.   The end of the Cornwall stage and stepping off a ferry into the South Devon one.  I was feeling like I wanted to put off the end – like slowing down at the last few chapters of really good book because you don’t want to leave the lives of the characters.    

Cornwall has been all I imagined and more.    The walking is wild and rugged.   The terrain, it’s  gradients, what lays underfoot and and it’s remoteness all forces you to slow down as if to say ‘if you think you are rushing through here , think again.’    The path rises up to meet you and you pay attention.   It is varied and unique at each new village- each one it’s own personality, it is stunningly beautitful , the coast is an absolute treat to explore but it is more than that .   At it’s centre is just simply has a warm soul – I think this must come from when lovely things come together and meet  –  the beauty of countryside, the coastal landscape, the people , the way they meet you with such warmth , their  pride in their pocket of England, the food ,  the honour of making the best local ingredients into Cornish specialities , the kindness within each unique village of genuine care for each other .      All these things meet so that as you pass through a little of this magic just rubs off on you.  

Magical Cornwall.  

I finished my Finnygook breakfast and made my way out – it was a long walking day and a hot and humid Saturday.  Up onto the cliffs overlooking Whitsand Bay – a three mile sweep of golden sanded beach.  To get onto these cliffs you have to enter and walk throughTregantle shooting range –  If the red flag is flying then shooting is happening and you must find an alternative.   It was a fair wind on the coast so I hoped what happened to my back pack cover hadn’t happened to that flag.   Luckily it was securly down and so  crossing of the shooting range was possible.   What a spot for a shooting range!   Surely that view is kind of distracting …

The end of the bay ends at the stunning Rame Head which juts out into the Sea and is crowned by the ruins of 14th century chapel didicated to St Michael.    After rounding Rame Head it is a totally different walk heading closer to Plymouth.     Through wooded reserves and then into the twin villages of Cawsand and Kingsand.   This was my sandwich stop and what an excellent sandwich it was – a thick ham off the bone. local cheese and chutney situation on granary bread and a of course…a pot of Smugglers Brew – getting it in quick …about to cross the border!!  

As I set of at about 2.30 , post sandwich I realised that it was the England game playing Panama in the World Cup on a summers Saturday night .   Kingsand is a maze of pastel painted cottages with a pub in the centre and they were pouring in to it – England shirts on and the singing was filling the streets.    

The final part of the day before the ferry that takes me to Plymouth and crosses into Devon is through the very lovely English garden surrounds of  Mount Edgcumbe Country Park.    At the end of the park and just before the ferry crossing to Plymouth is the very beautiful Organgery Garden Cafe.   Leslie had messaged to say INCREDIBLE SCONE  – MUST STOP.     This was the plan and it was to be my final Cornish cream tea and was to mark this  moment perfectly – (and the final ‘jam first’ cream tea….it all changes in Devon where they are staunchly cream first  ..wild behavior.  It’s the great scone debate that rages on .    If spotted putting cream on first in Cornwall it would be firing squad and vice versa.  This is the level of feeling that comes with this rivalry).  

I have been thinking about this moment all day – it had been a long walk – it was now nearly 4 .  I walked with purpose up to the gorgeous grounds of the The Orangery only to be stopped by a sign that said ‘Wedding in Progress -Please respect this event.’  

Noooooooooo!!!!!!!! Hang on – surely there is somewhere not part of the wedding to be able to order.   I went to the gardens where all very glamourous guests were mingling , two older ladies were sat at a table in floral dresses and hats.  I popped up next to them and I think, to try and distract from my apperance, sweaty faced, sweaty t’shirt, cap on , mud splashed pants and walking poles in hand I adopted an English posh wedding kind of voice.  It came out like Joanna Lumley , “oh hellooo…are you part of the wedding here today may I ask?”  They both took in my appearance and probably thought they were about to be mugged.   They said ” Yes , we are!”   I said, now in full Joanna , “I was looking for a scone , do you happen to know if I could get one anywhere?”   They had no clue what to say – I realised I sounded like I was just off the streets looking to pocket baked goods from a wedding .   I finished as Joanna so as not to confuse them and shouted a quick “Well, cheerio then”  and walked around the garden giving the wedding a respectful distance coming to terms with the fact I was not getting in and certainly not getting my damn milestone scone.  

I headed toward the Cremyll Ferry to cross the River Tamar into Royal William Yard , Plymouth , Sth Devon.    

 I arrived to the full 6pm Saturday night crowds pouring in to get their postion in a pub for the game.  It was heaving with England shirts and groups of singing , already drunk , arms round each other fans.    I walked through the back end of Plymouth to get to The Barbican district of Plymouth where my room above a pub was.  When booking this I did not realise it was to be England playing …The Barbican area is the famous cobbled stoned streets of usually quaint pubs , restaurants and harbour side eating.  Tonight the not so quaint as the brochure suggests,  it was packed everywhere.  Especially my pub right in the heart of it.  The Three Crowns.  In I went to find it 10 deep at the bar – everyone in an English shirt.  Me sweaty face, sweaty t shirt, cap on, mud splashed pants and walking poles.   Second time today I found myself in an odd outfit at the wrong time.   I finally got to the bar , and yelled “I am staying the night !!!  ”   It took 3 goes ,  finally she understood and I got a key and told “up the stairs, right at the top”.   

I went to put the kettle on as quickly as I could to find ear plugs by the bed.    Thoughtful touch.  

I went to bed to  the roars from down below and by the time the second goal went in my bed had just about levitated off the floor.    Song of day “It’s comin home , It’s comin home, Football’s comin home”.!!!  

Night night from Devon and Good night to Cornwall.     I won’t ever forget you xxx

Tregantle Shooting Range  – Flag down. Good to go

Nice views while doing the shooting

Rame Head and St Micheal’s Chapel

Kingsand

Mt Edgecumbe

Wooded walking finale

The Orangery, the wedding

Roped off -no scone for you

The Three Crowns the next morning…..

No way I was leaving without my own stash