In a surprise, even to me, it’s going to be a wild camp tonight. I did originally think that I’d definitely use a campsite on my first night of walking because it would help to settle me into the walk and take some pressure off. There were a couple of campsites quite near to St Ives but one e didn’t respond to me when I messaged them a few weeks ago and the other wanted to charge £30. Now…I’m not a desperately poor man but I can’t stand being ripped off and that amount for a backpacking pitch is definitely not reasonable. So, for the good of my bank account I’ve decided that I’ll camp for free and deal with any fallout – be that mental or someone telling me to move on.

The only slight issue is that I don’t like to pitch the tent in day light so I’ll have to kill some time – quite a lot of time! I could definitely have walked on, I’ve only covered about 16 miles today, but I would have soon arrived in St Ives and wild camping near a town is even more tricky. Plus this way, I’ll get to the town in about an hour tomorrow and I’ll be able to use the public toilets and find some breakfast. I think I’ve made the right decision. I don’t have much water either, which is a slight worry, but I’m sure I can get some in St Ives.

I am slightly concerned about the pitch I’ve selected as it’s very small and close to the path. I had seen nsome better ones a mile or so back down the path and I’m kicking myself a bit for not stopping then, but I was in dithering mode and still thinking that I’d try to use a campsite. This pitch is also quite high up on the cliffs so I’ll be quite exposed if the wind picks up and I’m still a bit wary since the incident I had last year. However, it’s not forecast to do so and I’ve got a lot more confidence in the tent I use now. I think it’ll be ok.

Wine o’clock

I’ve got a friend that used to call 5 o’clock, wine o’clock. Now, I’m not going to go on here about the merits of drinking wine at 5 o’clock every night to be able to cope with the stresses of having a young family and realising nothing will ever be the same again. No, it’s not my place to do that.

What I was thinking is that on these hikes I have a similar problem but mine is called worry o’clock. It definitely comes on at around 5pm and is much worse when I don’t know where I’m going to be staying for that night. It decides that rational thought is no longer useful and what you need to do is keep going over the options in your head, carry on walking, stress yourself out, and not make any decisions. Sort of sleep walk into a hopeful solution.

I noticed myself doing that this evening and it was quite interesting to watch myself wasting all that energy. I suppose it does make sense because at that time of day you’re getting tired and the accommodation problem does become more pressing. I need to get better at that, before worry o’clock I was perfectly happy and delighted to be on another backpacking trip.

Ordering off the menu

I heard from someone once that a menu in a restaurant is more of a list of suggestions. I don’t think this is true really but every time I’ve tried it – twice – I’ve ended up getting what I’ve asked for. Today was the second time, when I ordering breakfast at the hotel. I wasn’t feeling especially hungry so I just asked for a bacon sandwich and I got one. Little wins I suppose. Not exactly advanced off piste food ordering but we all start somewhere.

After leaving the hotel I was pleased that I hadn’t been tricked by the weather. If you’ve ever tried to persuade a child to wear a coat in winter despite them arguing with you that it’s sunny and will be warm then you’ll know what I mean. The sky was full of dark clouds and it really did look quite cold but I decided to just wear a t-shirt on my top half. It turned out to be very humid, and since then the sun has also come out and made it an extremely warm day. I would say it started out perfect hiking weather but as the day went on it’s actually become quite a challenge. Which brings me neatly on to the path itself.

Some would call it technical!

I had a few other choice words for the path at times. After I’d stubbed my toe for the tenth time on a rock, I was getting a little irritated. But other than that, what an amazing day of walking.

Before I left, I’d spoken to a man who worked at the hotel. I was asking if I could leave them the book I’d just finished reading as they had a little free library for the guests and, as I don’t tend to keep books I’ve read, said they could have it. He was asking my plans for the day and I told him I was going to walk the coastal path to St Ives, and maybe even beyond. He was very pleasant but told me I probably wasn’t going to get there. Said the path was quite a challenge. I’ve seen loads of paths so figured he was just exaggerating. But here we are, sitting a couple of miles short of St Ives. In fairness to me I could have made it, but as discussed previously, that would have created other problems. Like being down £30.

So the path is quite hard work, but definitely fun. It probably needs some hedge trimming in places because they are encroaching on the path and you sort of need to push through, but definitely still passable. There are some sections that involve a certain amount of scrambling, with some steep climbs and descents, but I really just took my time and enjoyed the views. I think it’s probably taken me about 10 hours, with breaks, to go about 16 miles (plus the walk from St Just to Cape Cornwall) so I’ve not broken any speed records today. There is a place called Zennor about half way along so you could split this stretch into two to make it much more manageable. There was much talk about the pub at Zennor. I didn’t detour to have a look though. There is also a mining museum just after Cape Cornwall that could be worth a visit. Obviously I just walked through but I’d like to come back and visit the museum and Cape Cornwall again. My friend at work talked about this area being a great place to visit but as I’d only really seen it in bad weather last year (and I was cold and grumpy) it didn’t seem so appealing. I was wrong. In fact, as I walked down from St Just, it looked amazing and I felt quite excited to be back.

No blackberries

We have foxgloves now. Last year, certainly earlier in my walk, many of the paths were lined with blackberries, which I enjoyed eating. I’m obviously too soon in the season for those but instead I’m surrounded by foxgloves. It makes me think of my own garden at home. I’m not a very good gardening. On one part of my garden I’ve been telling people that I’ve purposely turned it wild as that’s good for nature. The truth is that I can’t keep up with it and it’s a good excuse. I often kill plants as well and I’d love lots of foxgloves but I feel the same would happen. But here, they just grow in abundance, I assume, with no one helping them.

Not very efficient

I know that coastal paths generally don’t get to their destination very fast. I heard somewhere that, depending how small you make each unit of distance, the length of the UK’s coastal path gets very longer and longer. I think I heard that anyway.

Well today was definitely a good example of how long a path can be. It was long, wound round many coves, and had quite big changes of elevation. I’ve already said it but it was a challenging day.

Fun though.