Coasting along

The Westcountry is dangerous to your health, or at least my version of the Westcountry is. I’m sure if I lived here permanently things would involve maybe less clotted cream and pastry and cake and pork products packed into such an undiluted period. I may even dabble in salad once in a while. Maybe. There is a solution to this though, at least psychologically if not physically. It’s called the South West Coast Path, which at least involves some exercise (if you can avoid the tea houses, ice cream vans and chip shops along the way). The coast path is its own little addiction, something I find I am drawn to if I find myself in any coastal town in Devon and Cornwall, something which drags you along to see what’s around the next corner ad infinitum. This is not a bad thing as it’s usually very good, sometimes sublime and with a sprinkle of sun, warmth and horse manure, jolly pleasant.

Shockingly we had some consistent nice summer weather over the past week (enough for shorts and sunscreen at times), so I have taken advantage of this and made a couple of visits to our coastline. The first trip was down to Falmouth, perched on a vast harbour on the south coast of Cornwall and home to many of the archetypal Cornish features… fishing boats, glistening beaches and coves and rolling green fields dotted with cream producing cows.

With its sizeable docks, Falmouth is in places quite industrial, sometimes unremarkable, but of course the proximity of the coast and the coast path means there’s plenty to keep a visiting exile happy. At the head of the harbour is Pendennis Head and its castle, no doubt strategically placed to shoot onions at marauding baguette hunters. From here, the path takes you past several beaches, each terribly unAustralian but not without their own particular British seaside charm, including the wonderfully named Gyllyngvase. Struggling to avoid the tempting eatery overlooking Swanpool Beach, the path then becomes more typically rural, through tree lined, mud laden tracks and over green pasture to Maenporth, where more food options signal the end of my little jaunt. Definitely better than staying at home and watching the first day of the fourth Ashes test.





Now, in the second part of our enthralling adventure along the Cornish coast, I bring you details of a trip a bit closer to home, embarking on the little red Cawsand ferry from Plymouth’s Barbican (and top marks Plymouth on the new wharf at the Barbican for all these cruises and ferries). Being so close I have visited here and nearby Mount Edgecombe Country Park several times, but it really is only half an hour from Plymouth and another world away.

This time around, I headed south from Cawsand and followed that old coast path through woodland in the overflowing green burst of summer and out to Penlee Point, at the entrance to Plymouth Sound. Another mile or two further along brings Rame Head, a more dramatic and unmistakably Cornish piece of rock, where half of Devon and Cornwall is on view.





After hanging around here for a little while, I went off road – or more accurately on road – following winding country lanes with ten foot high hedgerows back to Cawsand, and its adjoining neighbour Kingsand. A hotchpotch of narrow lanes and cottages eventually spat me out at the Devonport Inn, where you simply purchase a pint of warm beer and take it outside overlooking Kingsand Beach, soaking up the sights and sounds of a very pleasant summer’s day. Reward indeed for the ‘toil’ of the South West Coast Path.