In 1987 we walked from Tintagel to Newquay along the Atlantic coast of Cornwall.

The image quality is not very good. They were made by scanning poor quality 4 X 6 prints. I hope that one day I can find the negatives and scan them. There are 78 images here.

Link to first image or the preview sheet (the preview sheet will be very slow to load). Or go to the first image for each section. There are also maps.

Tintagel scenes - (same as first image)

The walk

Day 1 - Tintagel to Port Isaac
Day 2 - Port Isaac to Polzeath
Day 3 - Polzeath to Padstow

Padstow scenes

Day 4 - Padstow to Porthcothan
Day 5 - Porthcothan to Newquay

Plymouth scenes

Details

In 1987 our long time friends Chris and Carol asked us if we would join them on a hike along the coastal path in Cornwall. The plan was to take a week to walk from Tintagel to Newquay staying in "Bed and Breakfasts" along the way. Chris' brother Alan and his wife Kathy would also be joining us.

The coastal path, which is maintained by Britain's National Trust, is actually a dirt track that runs along the cliff tops, until it comes to an inlet where it plunges straight down and back up the other side. Inexperienced a bunch of walkers that we were, this left us feeling quite weak kneed each time it happened. Chris' plan was that we should get the toughest part over first so, on our first day, we unsuspectingly headed off for what we thought was to be a fairly easy hike with a bit of a hill at the start. Four hours later, still climbing, we realised the single box of juice we had each packed and the one packet of trail mix between us was far from adequate. We did eventually come across a small village with a small café where we completely emptied their cooler of soft drinks.

The hikes were easier after that first day but we learned to dread styles, the varied contraptions farmers build to allow people to climb into their fields while not allowing their animals out. After walking all day up and down cliffs climbing over a style became a major hurdle but climb over them we did. They came in every shape of torture imaginable.

At the end of each day we would stumble into the village of that day's destination, look for the steepest hill and be guaranteed that our B&B for the night would be at the top of it. After soaking in the bath or shower we would reassemble and head off to a local pub or restaurant for what were always memorable meals and a glass or two of the local brews. One B&B that bears special mention was in Porthcothan This was a truly rambling old farmhouse on the top of a hill overlooking the ocean. The walls all bowed inward and none of the floors were even and the wallpaper stood away from the walls. When we arrived the proprietress, who appeared to be almost as old as the house, asked us if we would like some tea. We said we would, expecting a cup of tea. We then went and changed and when we came downstairs found the table loaded with farmhouse goodies all manner of home made cakes and scones. This lady also kept chickens and so breakfast the next morning included very fresh farm eggs along with a huge spread of other traditional English breakfast foods. All of this cost us a whole 24 pounds per couple. We felt guilty at paying so little for so much.

Most of the time we managed to keep to the trail without getting lost although there were a few goofs. One of these was the time we walked through a large patch of gorse making all kinds of noise to scare away snakes that were likely to be living in there only to discover at the end that the path actually led around the gorse. On another occasion we came across a sign facing away from us warning hikers heading in the direction we had just come from to, " Beware of Crumbling Cliffs." Whoops. We did get lost in a field of sheep on another occasion. None of us had realised until that day how noisy sheep can be. They were obviously quite put out with us intruding on their solitude and let us know it with much bleating.

The rewards of all this were the breathtaking views, the amazing sense of peace, we could walk all day without seeing another sole and the warm hospitality of the Bed and Breakfast owners.