Newquay, Tuesday, June 2, 2025
We’re doing something we’ve never done on these walks: not walking! We aren’t quite halfway, but Newquay seemed best suited to a day of lolling about.
I wrote that this morning in anticipation of a day of lolling about. Which of course turned out otherwise.
While three of the women did an hour of yoga–memories of the same crew doing Tai Chi on the sidewalk in front of our hotel in Mandalay came immediately to mind– the men plus Sue walked across our peninsula to the lovely Fern Pit Cafe.
We were joined by what google tells us is a Eurasion Jackdaw.
The cafe sits high above the gorge-like valley through which the Gannel River runs to the sea.
I had read that the village of Crantock, which sits high above the river on the other bank, was a lovely traditional Cornish village. It was off the path, so we decided to have a look-see today. We had a nice cup of coffee on the terrace waiting for the yoga aficionados to join us. Reunited, we hopped down the steep pathway to the river, where the ferryman was waiting to take us across. Here’s the path.
And here’s the ferryman.
And here is Sue’s Cinéma vérité film of the crossing aboard the ferry.
Once across the river, we crossed the dunes to a car park and lane that led up to the village itself. The vegetation in this sheltered spot is jungle-like.
What remarkable cottages these were!
I suppose “cat on a hot thatched roof” just doesn’t have the same ring.
As we approached the center of the village, we found this:
Apart from its roundness, the garden really wasn’t much. But it did make for a nice backdrop.
It takes all kinds on a trip like this.
The village center is, predictably, several pubs. We looked longingly at this one as we passed by toward the village’s cultural attraction.
Saint Carantock, the village church, was founded in the fifth century as a Celtic oratory by Saint Carantock himself. The present church dates from Norman times; it is mentioned in the Domesday Book (1086).
The church has been much rebuilt over the centuries, but has retained its original shape. It underwent a very extensive interior renovation in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, replacing much of the woodwork and all of the windows. This font dates from the 12th century.
The rood screen is early twentieth century.
The churchyard is full of interest as well, starting with this medieval sarcophagus.
Behind the church, under a gabled roof supported by granite columns, is Crantock’s seventeenth century stocks, and a vivid account of their last use.
The entrance to the parish close is wonderful as well. As the parishioner enters, she sees this (not sure whether feminine pronouns are still allowed in America, but I’m an old fashioned guy):
For those like me deprived of a proper education in Latin, the lintel reads “”My people shall dwell in the beauty of peace and in a wealthy place,” a citation from the Book of Isaiah in the Hebrew Scriptures.
On leaving, the parishioner sees this:
It reads “My beloved has gone down into his garden to the bed of spices” from the Song of Solomon. So you get money coming in and sex coming out. Not bad.
So who can resist a wonderful pub twice? We couldn’t. The BLT’s were almost as good as the Cold River Cider, rapidly becoming our favorite.
And somebody obviously liked their soup.
Is there an eatery or drinkery on earth as wonderful as an old English pub?
Thus fortified, we took the long way home, walking out onto the Coast Path and along the dunes before returning to the beach. Leisurely days call for leisurely conversations.
The tide was out, so we were able to sample the other means of crossing the river: the low tide bridge.
Once we had labored up the stairs to the cafe, we decided to walk along the Coast Path all the way around the Pentire Headland. This is a view over Crantock Beach and the mouth of the Gannel River.
And now the tidal patterns, enhanced by cloud formations.
And a rare (for these pages at least) portrait of your author.
David caught this lovely image of children at surf school.
The headland rises sharply at its end, with sweeping views from its top. Here they come up the hill!
Hail the conquering heroes…or at least the two without their noses in their phones (she can probably be forgiven, since she was dealing with an urgent refugee issue).
This photo shows the headlands we had traversed in the last two days–if you blow it up, you will see the lighthouse on Trevose Head at the very far left. We walked around that lighthouse nearly twenty miles ago.
Dinner was a terrific place called The Fish House just down the hill from the Headland Hotel where we had eaten last night. Tiny, very simple (the interior looks something like someone’s idea of a crab shack), and warmly welcoming, the restaurant also gave us a memorable meal. The mussel and “hotshell” (mussels, clams, crab legs, tiger prawns, and scallops in a chile and garlic broth) appetizers were superb. Several people had mackerel, sea bass, or hake; David had an Indian Fish Curry while Gary and I had a Sri Lankan tiger prawn curry. Patti had Cod Tempura with a lime / chile dip.
Pravan got a kick out of three couples sharing sundaes like teenagers at a soda shop and made a little photo essay out of it.
And this is what Mike looks like when his wife eats too much of his sundae with Sticky Toffee Ice Cream, Sticky Toffee Sauce, meringue, and clotted cream.
So wow, that was a long blog post! So much for lolling about. I should change the title to “Rest” Day. We walked over seven miles. All but the Energizer Bunny, of course. Sue walked an extra two and a half so she could see the harbor!