I won’t go so far as to say I didn’t feel and look a complete and utter tit, striding the coastal path with three-panelled solar charger dangling from rucsack, or from towel draped round neck, whichever afforded best positioning vis a vis that nuclear inferno in the sky which, having put in a delayed appearance around eight-thirty, did not once scarper till I’d pitched for the night and taken one last solei-coucher before turning in.
Just that I was too happy to care.
And the results speak for themselves. I began day two with 26% juice on my phone. By day’s end I’d 72% despite taking scores of pictures and, during extended lunch on cliff top with breathtaking view (I see I’m in need of a whole new stack of superlatives) answered a dozen emails and responded to all comments on my Day One post.
Plus, my battery-flat Bluetooth earpiece was fully charged as I wriggled into my sleeping bag, allowing me to drift off – cushioned by mattress of lush grass beside one of those idyllic brooks Cornwall specialises in – to Leonard Cohen’s Ten New Songs. I didn’t get far: A Thousand Kisses Deep is the last I remember, and that’s the second song in.
But enough of the idle. Yet again I greet you from a clifftop, this time in blazing sun. Washed-in-a-brook clothes are draped over fence, dew sodden tent over gate. Coffee kit waits on slab of flat rock and, as Julian of Norwich did tell, All is Well and All is Well and All is Well.
Here are the pictures. Btw, I won’t send more email alerts but will be posting plenty …
Day 3 begins with a bath. Not the ocean – I’d be drowned or brained in seconds in those boiling clashes of thrashing waves on rock – but the shallow pool of freshwater just about to fall its four sheer metre entry to the Atlantic. It’s not yet seven and though the sun is already warming my tent, here, fifty metres below, it’s a chilly shadowland. I’m thorough, but do not linger.
Looking back on my night’s pitch.
A blanket of mist drapes the cliff face as waves crash onshore.
Beatle fan Steve had a brief – by baby boomer standards – but I hope happy life.
With tent and washing nicely drying …
… it’s time to take a selfie.
Now for that coffee …
Keep on enjoying the off-grid trip Phil.
Are you going South towards Newquay or N?
ps Clare enjoying your blog and pics too.
Hey bro. I’m headed southwest toward St Ives. Regards to Clare, who clearly has good taste.
Your photos bring back every step of the way even though it’s 18years since we walked the north coast path – like you, from north to Land’s End. Arhhh! I need to do it again x
Don’t delay Polly. It’s later than we think x
The British Isles is beautiful and you have captured the glorious scenery wild flora and the summer blue sky extremely well.
Twenty years ago I could walk all day, now I am the camper van and cliff top picinic after a couple of hours walk type – enjoy it while you are able!
Susan I read your words just after expressing that very sentiment to Polly. I’m all too aware I won’t be able to do these adventures fifteen years hence so, as you wisely counsel, am making the most of it.
Lovely place for bees Phil 😉
Super snaps from your Galaxy 7 btw.
Keep ’em coming and hope the weather holds out for you,
Jim
Cheers Jim. Dunno about bees but did see an adder this morning …
Booby dazzler of a stove and kettle!
And what gorgeous colours…………
Whats a booby dazzler when it’s at home? Sounds like Barbara Windsor flashing her nipples in Carry On Up the Khyber.
Or a reference to my opening sentence?
PS am so glad you said not to bring Jasper. No way could he be off-lead on these cliff tops, but having him on the lead for hours on end with 13-14 kilos on my back and in baking heat – day three was to be a scorcher – doesn’t bear thinking about.
lovely .. no need to search further …
hugs Gemma
Big hugs back Gemma. How’s Zurich?
ps. really relieved that I don’t have to walk alongside your solar panels …..
Ha ha. You could bask in the reflected embarrassment Gemma
Gorgeous, but I think I would have succumbed to a pint of Speckled Hen or a Greyhound with a steak pie and chips before wending my way onwards carrying a lot more than was good for me. How I wish I could roll back the years and do it all again in those days when I was dauntless. Cracking pictures and commentary.
Well I was tempted Susan but resisted manfully …