A beautiful Day
For once, I slept like a baby. A proper “pub dinner”, and the combination of the heat, and the cider was enough to send me back to the campsite ready to sleep.
After a chat with my newfound hiker friends (they’re dutch, have been hiking for a month, and have another month to go), I set off, heading towards the North coast of Cornwall. For once, the wind was blowing in the right direction, and the sun was shining. It was a good day!
After an hour I stopped for mid-morning snack (a Cornish Pasty, just for a change), and getting back onto my bicycle, I noticed that my sunglasses were not where they should be.
Fuck. Fuck!
I looked on the bicycle, nothing.
I looked on the ground around the bicycle, nothing.
I walked back to the table I had eating my pasty at, nothing.
Fuck! My sunglasses were nowhere to be found.
I stopped to think: maybe they’d fallen off on a rocky section a couple of kilometres back.
I rode back, and examined the area, but found nothing.
I rode up a down the path a few times, but found nothing.
Maybe I’d dropped them a few more kilometres back when I propped the bike against a wall?
I backtracked more. Found nothing.
They had to be were I’d stopped for a snack I decided. I went back to the bakery, asked around, and found nothing.
If they weren’t there, I hoped that they might be at the campsite. I called, they looked, and found nothing.
“Fuck!”
Dejected, I started back on my route, annoyed at the though of not having sunglasses. I didn’t care about the glasses that much, they were worn and scratched, and I’d wanted to replace them anyway, but I was annoyed at needing to replace them.
A few metres later: Bordel! I didn’t want to deal with the hassle of finding new glasses!
“Putain!”
If they weren’t at the campsite, and they weren’t on the bike, they must have fallen off on the way. I decidded to follow my route back to the campsite.
I rode all the way back, against the wind this time, and found nothing.
“Putain de bordel de merde!”
I was two hours, and nearly 40 km into the ride, and I was back at my starting point. There was nothing else to do but to get going again.
Lucky break?
North Cornwall is very different from the south. The south is comparatively sheltered from the wind, and the towns and villages seem nestled in nooks in the coastline. On the northern cost, the hedges were squat, the bushes spindly, grasping the ground to withstand the unceasing winds, and trees had all but disappeared. Houses were rare, and more often than not, abbandoned.
Arriving in St Ives, the first settlement on the coast, the contrast was unnerving, All of a sudden, I was in a crowded touring street, and staring at sunbathers enjoying the calm of a sheltered beach.
I passed “MJ’s Emproium” and found a very cheap pair of sunglasses. They would have to do. I stopped for “Cornish Tea” (a scone, clotted cream, and jam), and looked for the cable of my charger. I couldn’t find it.
“Mais putain de bordel saloperie de sa mere!”
Grumbling, I unpacked one of my bags, pulled out my electronics pouch, and fished out another cable and stuffed it in my pocket. Back at my table, pulled it out of my pocket, and out came the cable I had been looking for …
Maybe my luck wasn’t so bad after all.
The rest of the day was a succession of beautiful seaside towns and incredible cliff views.
A sign pointed towards a “National Trust” property. “Godrevy” the sign said. My route followed the main road, but from a glance at the map, I might be able to cycle the coastal path for a stretch.
I decided to give it a try. I lifeguard told me the the path was rideable, so I pushed onwards, and for once, everything was fine. The views were incredible, and I constantly stopped to take pictures. I passed a man with binoculars, and showed me seals chilling in the sea.
It was great. I decided to follow the coastal path where I could.
Not the smartest idea ...
This became a rhythm. See a coastal trail, follow it for a bit, stopping to enjoy the views, and ride the path back to the road.
Unfortunately, not all coastal trails are made for bicycles.
On one trail, I passed a couple of hikers coming the other way, overtook an other pair of hikers, and … found myself at the top of a steep descent, looking at a staircase climbing up the other side.
I wished that they would have warned me …
Instead of doing the sane thing and turning back, I decided to just send it! I gingerly made my way downwards, and started pushing and pulling mmy bicyle up the steps. If it really became too steep, I could jhust take the bags off, and carry the bags, and the bicyle separately.
I struggled up the steps until another hiker came by and helped me carry my bicycle up the steps. We chatted for a bit as we walked together, until I saw in front of me, another descent and another set of steps.
If the first descent had been sketchy, it had at least been rideable. This time, the slope was so steep that the hiking trail was cut into hairpin turns to make it walkable. There was no chance of riding down this. The climb on the other side looked equally as challenging.
I pushed my bicycle down the path, or rather, tried to control it as it slipped down the trail. Reaching the bottom, my new friend was waiting to help me, and together we pushed and carried it up the steps.
After making the summit of this new hills, we stopped to catch our breath, and admired the scenery together. He told me of the tidal pool that formed at low tide, and the secret passage between the two coves, and I was just disappointed that I would not see them because I needed to keep moving.
Then, all of a sudden, a disturbing thought hit me. I was alone, on top of a cliff with a stranger. If he pushed me, it would be a while before anybody found me.
I hoped that he wasn’t a psychopath.
He assured me that the riding would be fine from now on, and he was almost correct. At an intersection, instead of heading down to the valley, I decided to stay on the coast path a little longer, and soon found my self on a narrow path, surrounded by brambles that fell away steeply into a set of steps. It was so narrow that I could not turn around, or reverse back up.
Time for a drink!
After these ordeals, I decided that I needed a drink. I stopped at a seaside bar, ordered a cider and looked at my route.
I wanted to get to Newquay, and if I pushed I would make it just before night fell.
This was slightly optimistic. I misread the map, and ended up making a detour by uncomfortably large streets with cars passing around me too fast for safety. By the time I arrived in Newquay, it was night, and I struggled to find my hostel.
I hoped for a calm evening, but tonight was pub quizz night.
By the numbers
- Ride Started
- 09:33
- Ride Ended
- 20:38
- Distance
- 134 km
- Time Moving
- 8h 06m
- Time Elapsed
- 11h 05m
- Elevation Gained
- 1994 m
- Distance so far
- 1130 km
- Riding so far
- 64h 33m
- Elevation so far
- 10884 m