We were following the route of people who also sought a safe entry to paradise through rather more peaceful means than the terrorists, following the instructions of a rival prophet.
A major storm had crossed the UK and the ground was wet. For once we were not entirely sorry that most of our day's walk was going to be on roads as we pretty soon came across a small lake, barring our way. Ingenuity found a way around it and we skirted the aptly-named Retire and on to Tremore.
If the day needed a theme then it was wheel-headed crosses. We found our first at a crossroads just outside Tremore. At last, we had a sense that we might, just possibly, be following an ancient Christian trackway.
Before long we were heading downhill into Lanivet where the church sports two enormous crosses and an inscribed stone.A service was under way and we enjoyed watching a farmer and his sons delivering a horse-drawn plough to be blessed at the end of the service on this 'Plough Sunday'. This they had bought on e-bay and claimed it was 100 years old and had not been used for 45 years. It clearly needed blessing, though.
Restored by some coffee we left Lanivet, soon becoming aware of the road of the sound of multae bigae et curres and soon found ourselves walking sub pontem sub maximam viam. A via we suspected quae ad Londinium ducit.
Imagine how delighted we were to find our next stone: a small milestone Ut Lani with a charming cartoon hand on it.This was the prelude to a positive rush of crosses as we headed for the very obvious bulk of Helman Tor, avoiding the magnum oppidum which we suspected to be Bodminium.
It was also clear that we were entering an area full of creative denizens.
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Back to the walk, we headed towards Helman Tor and climbed its bulk, admiring the Neolithic defences as we did. A triangulation point, clearly placed there by the Romans with their gromae, graced the top, close to the logan stone. Well actually, almost all the stones were logans as they appeared like a pile of pebbles for a giant's game of skittles.
We emerged onto a road and comfortingly discovered that we were back on the western arm of the Way.
After nearly a mile of road, we were taken off into the undergrowth, following a distinctly overgrown track through some wonderful marshy ground, over granite stiles, ducking under trees and avoiding the clasping moss hanging from the trees. This felt much more traditional.Our resident expert was captivated by the stiles which, she said, had inspired the 'discovery' of the Saints' Way; or so the noticeboard had said.
It was a stone's throw into Luxulyan, probably a giant's stone for grey wethers lay in every field where the Helman Tor giant had tossed his pebbles, no doubt seeking to squash the community of this innocent village.Another cross and the church of St Ciricius and St Julitta greeted us at the end of our day's travel. The story of their martyrdom is particularly unpleasant, involving rocks, boiling oil, the rack and various other horrors. It was not a day on which we wanted to contemplate any form of martyrdom; a difficult concept to understand. The only real mystery is how the church came to be dedicated to two such obscure 4th century martyrs from Antioch.
We rescued our car and headed for home as a light shower of rain reminded us how lucky we had been.
There are more photos here and the map may be seen here.
Distance: 17.4km (10 miles) in 4 3/4 hours.
