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 ..

The Tinners' Way - part 5

The Boslow stone

A brilliant early May bank holiday and the company of two wonderful old friends encouraged us to finish the last section of our walk: and what a finish it was.

Parking where the track crosses the Pendeen road, we made our way once more up towards Carn Kenidjack, passing the inscribed Boslow stone with its cross and vague inscriptions.

From the top of the carn, the azure blue sea tempted us onwards but not before we had visited the Tregeseal stone circle, carefully counting its nineteen stones and performing suitable rites.

Approaching the end of our journey, we were faced with a series of tracks and minor roads with wonderful names like No Go Hill and Truthwall Lane, heading ever onwards towards the sea. Ancient Celtic field shapes lay all around us, their boundaries marked by massive stones no doubt put their by the various giants who inhabited this land in years gone by.

The Crowns mine engine house

Skirting Botallack, it was impossible to deny the lure of the Crowns Mine, perched on the cliff edge and looking much more secure than it did in the great storms. Half-remembered images from Hammond Innes' Killer Mine and memories of Folk at the Count House - Brenda Wooton and John the Fish - came to mind.

A picnic on Carn Kenidjack, overlooking Porth Ledden seemed a fitting end to our trek. Cape Cornwall lay in front of us with the Brisons offshore. In the distance, the Longships were dark spots in the blue and Wolf Rock could just be made out in the haze.

Above Porth Ledden

Below us was what has been described as 'the best-defended early harbour in Cornwall' with a cliff castle on both sides. If so, then this asks questions about the nature of the Tinners' Way itself. Was it all west-east traffic with tin being carried from the St Just area to the safer beaches of St Ives and Lelant, or was there a counter-flow to this little haven?

The four central Kenidjack holed stones

We made our way back up the Kenidjack valley, through Nancherrow and Tregeseal, briefly stopping to greet some charming local residents, before standing once more at Tregeseal stone circle.

We had missed the holed stones on the way down the hill and set off in what looked like the right direction. Ignoring the protective gorse, we eventually found the five holed stones: miniature versions of the Men-an-Tol, their purpose quite unclear. A modern hand was too large to pass through any of the holes. The only thing that can be said for them is that they broadly face south and are near a stone circle and several barrows. Could the holes have indicated something at mid-summer when the sun shone through the holes?

It was a short walk back to the car and the journey home, glowing with satisfaction at having completed the Tinners' Way, surely one of the most important trackways in Penwith, if only for the number and variety of monuments, ancient and industrial. It does not take much imagination to conjure up images of belching chimneys and the noise and bustle of mining in this area 150 years ago. And yet those miners seem to have respected the ancient stones that marked the routes they followed.

Nowhere is this more marked than around the Ding Dong mine where quoits, a stone circle, several standing stones and the Men-an-Tol have all survived apparently unscathed. The valley in Peru which contains the Urubamba river, the fortress of Ollyantaytambo and Machu Picchu was called the Sacred Valley by the Incas. If Cornwall has a similar valley then we had just walked through it: from Chun Castle to Kenidjack castle on the coast.

The Tinners' Way is highly recommended for anyone who wants to see Cornwall's wildness at its best and to contemplate thousands of years of history in the process.

A mere 6.9 miles in wonderful sunshine. There are more photos here and a map here.

The Tinners' Way - part 4

Carn Kenidjack

The surprise of a wonderful sunny Sunday encouraged us to make an early start to fill in a bit more of the Tinners' Way.

We started where we left off last time, at the foot of Carn Downs and headed towards Bosullow Trehyllys Iron Age settlement which is well worth a detour and a future visit. Excavated between 1925 - 1930 it is a wild version of Chysauster or Carn Euny with several very obvious houses and rooms. According to the Great Author, there may even be an above-ground fogou here but we searched in vain.

Chun Castle

The morning mist was clearing as we walked up the side of Chun hill to admire the castle: an Iron Age staging post or place or safe keeping for the tin en route from the Cape Cornwall area to St Ives or Marazion.

Having admired the fortifications and noted how the later barbican favoured the left-handed attacker, we crossed the short distance to Chun Quoit, the best-preserved in Penwith. From here, it was a short walk across Woon Gumpus common to the road. This bowl, like that around the Men-an-tol is filled with ancient remains.

Local residents

Crossing the road we greeted some unlikely Penwith residents who would be more at home in the High Andes, and admired a small barrow just off the main path which still had its cist intact.

From here we headed past the Boslow stone and out onto the moor. Although we should have been turning round, the lure of Carn Kenidjack was just too strong and we climbed this for our cup of coffee and snack. Where better could there be: a beautiful blue sky with a crisp sky, a blue sea dotted with white patches, St Just village nestling around its church, a stone circle in plain view and in the far distance, a white skirt around the Longships. But those joys are for a future walk.

Chun Quoit

We turned and headed back along the southern arm of the Tinners' Way, past the Boswens standing stone with it modern aircraft aerial, skirting the foot of Chun Castle and back to the meet the Madron at Bosullow. Seen from this direction, the main route to St Ives is obvious: straight on past the Men-an-tol towards the Men Scryfa.

We returned along the northern coast road - whoever painted the Gunnard's Head bright yellow should be made to re-paint it - once again marvelling at the Celtic field boundaries.

A mere 4.8 miles. The map is here and there are more pictures here.

Droppings

The Lego's gone, the Playmobil
Is cluttered safe away
And all the toys, those playful joys,
Must wait another day.

Our guests have gone, they're far away
They've left us on our own
With quiet rooms, dull afternoons,
We're empty, all alone.

But 'neath the sofa, on the rug
We find they've left some gear.
A sock or two, a Lego piece
And other items dear.

To pack these up and send them back
Is slamming the front door
On memories - that ghostly fizz -
Of guests that we adore.

Much better then to set aside
These relics of the week
Against that time, that happy time
They're back on Mylor creek.

The Tinner's Way - part 3

Men Scryfa with the Ding Dong mine
in the background

Another six months has passed and, on a bright sunny winter's day, we grabbed a welcome lull between storms, thunderstorms and high winds and set out to discover a few more miles of the Tinner's Way. This time we were 'walking backwards', unwinding ourselves as we had not quite made the road on our last visit.

We started just further on from the Men-an-tol studio and walked off across sodden ground along a path-turned-stream with the great 'sacred valley' on our right, following what was obviously once a drove road between two massive Cornish hedges. Below us, in the sunlight we could see the Men-an-tol itself - with some noisy visitors - the Ding Dong mine and the Men Scryfa. To our left and right there were bright blue lines of sea.

We followed the path to the Men Scryfa itself and paid homage to Ryalvran with a reading from the Great Work, describing his death. There is something wonderful about the commemoration of fight which took place in such a far-off corner of the kingdom nearly 1,500 years ago. It is fitting that the loser is remembered and we do not even know the name of the victor. Who would not fight to protect this wonderful landscape?

Watch Croft

Onwards up the hill northwards leaving the rocky outcrop of Carn Galver on the right, we turned left and climbed to the top of Watch Croft, Penwith's highest point at a lung-bursting, altitude-sickness-inspiring 252m (852ft); another of our High Spots of Cornwall. Here we sat down for a well-earned late sandwich before exploring the excitement that is the Watch Croft menhir.

The Pendeen lighthouse and coast twinkled in the sunlight, its mine chimneys peppering the cliff top like so many warning bollards. Within easy reach were three fogous and Chun Castle beckoned for our next outing.

There must be a path somewhere here

An easy downhill route took us back to a lane and so back to our car as the temperature began to drop and the sun looked as if it wanted to settle down on Scilly, just over the horizon.

A mere 2.7 miles. The map is here and there are more pictures here.

We could not resist the drive along one of the great roads of the country: the coast road to St Ives, twisting and turning past ancient farmsteads and fields, imagining D H Lawrence walking these roads.