Coastwalk , South West Coast Path

Polruan → Polperro

Distance: 7.13 miles
Ascent: 643 metres
Duration: 2 hours 50 minutes

Faith in Polperro
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Back on the coast after a couple of months' break. Today's our second wedding anniversary and despite the slight drizzle it's fantastic to be marking it in this way.

Once out of Polruan there are no signs of civilisation on the coastpath until Polperro. The path winds back and forth, up and down through the gorse and bracken with occasional views across to Lansallos church which appeared to be playing hide-and-seek behind the rolling hills.

Polperro came quickly but we didn't linger to explore, opting instead to see if the bus which we were already five minutes late for was itself running late. This was a mistake. Because of its narrow, winding streets most traffic is excluded from the village including the local bus which stops a kilometre away in Crumplehorn. Next time we'll know.

Personal

Bliss

For the third year in a row we're spending late September/early October in honeymoon country.

And now in our secret hotel with the window open I can hear the sounds which will lull me to sleep tonight (I've been looking forward to this all week): the irregular chiming of the church bells; high tide lapping at the foundations of the building below; nothing else... just peacefulness. Perfect bliss.

Personal

Rules don't rule

It's not up for discussion: The Lost Gardens of Heligan are impressive, both as a garden and as a restoration project. We spent most of the afternoon there today, having called off a coastwalk.

One thing really irked me: the number of rules. The information sheet handed to us at the ticket office was stuffed full of instructions, and almost everywhere were signs telling us what we couldn't do. Ultimately the glory of the garden didn't deserve the reverence the organisers tried to sledgehammer into the peasants.

Visit the place for the gardens, but if you're anything like me you'll be relieved to leave lest you transgress unforgivably.

Greenbelt , Music

Frantic

I'm a few months late to this party. But it's just possible you haven't noticed either.

My friend Hannah used to say that everyone important in her life was in the same tent at Castle Ashby in 1992; it's just that she didn't know them then. That tent was the Greenbelt Big Top; the event was Fat and Frantic's final farewell gig.

So if you were in that tent too, you might like to know the entire FaF back catalogue is available on iTunes.

I'll unashamedly admit: I bought everything. And it still brings a smile to my face; I've been singing along all week.

Personal

To the seaside arsonists

Please stop.

Brighton's loss was bad. And I didn't manage to make it to Weston Super Mare before their pier caught fire. Now Fleetwood. At least I've seen that one.

The piers are my favourite punctuation on the coastwalk. They're landmarks I look forward to: a chance to walk out across the sea rather than alongside it.

But they're more than that too. Teignmouth Pier in particular was a significant element of my family's annual summer holiday when I was young. Each time I see a pier I'm transported back there, picking up any coppers I can find and feeding them to the machines above the waves. (But never on a Sunday: Gran would be horrified at the idea of gambling on a Sunday.)

By my count there are about fifty left along our coast. So, dear arsonists, if you have to burn them one by one please let Teignmouth be the last.