The Saints' Way 1

The harbour of Padstow: safe if the Doom Bar was not playing up 

A new year and the first real day of retirement tempts us out into the great outdoors and the first stage of the Saints' Way from Padstow to Fowey (eventually). An early start with two cars sees one left at Withiel and the other on the start line outside St Petroc's church in Padstow.

For those who do not know it, the Saints' Way is the major long distance footpath across the middle of Cornwall. Traditionally, this was used by pilgrims from Ireland and Wales keen to make their way to Brittany to start the long trek to the shrine of Sant Iago, St James, at Compostela - a religious trip which earned a plenary indulgence equivalent to that offered for a trip to Rome or Jerusalem. Those medieval Popes knew a thing or two about politics, bribery and tourism. Pilgrims unenthusiastic about rounding Land's End by ship could use the 30 or so miles overland route which offered a relatively safe harbour at each end.

The starting line: St Petroc's church in Padstow

Their other alternative was to use the St Michael's Way from Hayle to Marazion (see previous posts). This offered a shorter land route but more hazardous seas. Despite carving deep into the Cornish heartland, the Fal does not seem to have been as popular as a departure point, perhaps because of the lack of a good port on the north coast in the early medieval period.

Before walking, it is natural to question the placing of the apostrophe; or at least it is to us. It would never do to be following a grammatical solecism. Did many Saints use this way or was it the way of Sant Iago? This, understandably leads to a debate about who named the holy men and women of Cornwall as Saints and what one had to do to achieve this accolade other than a) be holy b) be a hermit c) preach.

We settle for the style used on maps and guides, and set off through a less-than delightful 1960s housing estate and up St Dennis Hill and along Little Petherick Creek.

Little Petherick church

The trail is mostly well-signed but we quickly discover that it has an unnerving habit of launching you over a stile into a field with no indication of the direction of travel. Fields, being large, this leaves several options and we try most of them, eventually emerging at the bridge at Little Petherick where a charming small church also dedicated to St Petroc guards the crossing. Much over-done by the Victorians and Edwardians (Comper) it reeks of Anglo-Catholicism.

One of our guides says 'too many roads for my liking' and we become inclined to agree. The first part of the journey has felt 'contrived' rather than historically natural like the Tinners' Way (see previous posts). There are no green lanes following contours or climbing hills, no natural landmarks such as menhirs although there is a general sense that one is heading for St Breock Down which is the nearest thing to a beacon around here. There are lots of roads and quite a bit of mud.

To add to the quasi-religious nature of this walk we conduct the search for signposts and landmarks in Latin: ecce signum, magnam viam video, signum vides? and so on. I think this should really become compulsory on such outings.

Mind you, some of the signa are less than helpful, like this sample which reminds one of Harry Potter's King's Cross platform.

Crossing the magna via, vulgarly called the A39 Via Atlantica you enter a no-man's land of small upland farms where roads are tracks and the only thing breaking the horizon is either woolly, a hump or bump from the Bronze Age or a windmill.

The longstone

The monolith

We emerge on St Breock Down and shelter from a cold wind behind the longstone to eat some lunch. Why the longstone simply gets a mention on the map when it is a very respectable standing stone with some lovely quartz graining and every bit as exciting as its inaccessible companion, the St Breock Down Monolith (EH), escapes us.

We set off again in the direction of Withiel and become aware that we are heading in the approximate direction of Hensbarrow. If Philip Marsden is to be believed - and why not - then this was one of the important hills of Cornwall alongside Rough Tor which has been in view through the haze for much of our journey. Today Hensbarrow is little more than a pimple lining the edge of the Cornish Alps. Behind its ridge is the largest hole in Cornwall, helpfully shown on the OS map as a large white space: Clay Pit. It could equally, and more appropriately, be entitled Terra Incognita.

St Clement, Withiel

An early traveller would have followed such landmarks: 'leave Padstow and head for St Breock - you cannot miss it as it has a monolith on top - then head for Hensbarrow. Once there ...' We will complete this saying when we complete the trail.

We are once more on a road passing one of those doubtful looking places which turns out to be a 'secluded exclusive countryside hotel and country club'. Smart cars emerge and roar off in various directions. Echoes of Howard's Way as ostentatious and meretricious new wealth spills out onto the road with the recycling (several very visible champagne bottles).

A final steep downhill and compensating uphill brings us into Withiel and to the door of the church which is, strangely, dedicated to St Clement rather than any Cornish saint although it is not clear exactly which St Clement. The large church reminds me of Altarnun or St Neot: over-large churches tucked into the rolling green landscape of a hidden or out-of-the-way valley.

We climb thankfully into our car which has survived intact and head off to collect the other, allowing ourselves a small but relevant detour to mark the day. We will admit it: our feet and limbs are aching and what better way to rest them than a hot tub. Bliss! Distance: 16.6 km (10 miles) according to Google, 11 miles according to the guidebook. See map here

Time taken: 4 hours 40 minutes

Calories used: not half as many as we consumed when we got back.

To be continued ..