WEEK 1

Day 5 saw us heading southwest towards Lands End - or that was the plan, but again we had not come to terms with the quantity of travellers (high) and quality of roads (low) in this part of the country. So we headed SW on the A38, passing Plymouth before 9am, then dropping down onto the A387, arriving at Looe, (more info....) the charming river-mouth port, just as the coffee shop and tourist centre beside the bridge was opening its doors. No shortage of car parks at this time of day, so took an early morning photo then headed onwards on the narrow winding road as the traffic increased. We began to wonder where it was all going, thinking that it too might be headed for Polperro, but much to our surprise it wasn't and we had the pick of nearly 200 car parks at the entrance to Polperro. Once again our Antipodean propensity for early starts had some benefits.

Polperro

We had heard a lot about the quaint charm of Polperro but did not know much in detail, so it was a pleasant time of discovery to walk the several hundred metres down the narrow valley into Polperro. Past stone houses that had probably been there hundreds of years, past shops, bakeries, tea rooms, pubs, restaurants (all still closed as this was only 10am) and on to the water's edge and the small sheltered port of Polperro. It was just past high tide and the boat harbour was full of calm reflective water, boats riding quietly at anchor. At the base of the breakwater that almost fully encloses the harbour was our first real sign of tourist entrapment - a woman selling tickets for a voyage along the coast on a local fishing boat. We were hooked on the idea and paid up. While we waited for the boat to fill (tourists were thin on the ground at this time of day) I had my first encounter with real Cornish slate - a wonderful black rock with such perfect slatey cleavage that it could and should have been in a text book. Then we found ourselves sailing out through the narrow gap in the breakwater and along the Cornish coast on a flat sea with gentle swell, past great headlands of slate and through thickets of kelp. We paused to catch a fleeting glance of a seal breakfasting near the shore then turned back. Now was the chance to see why this coast had such a reputation for shipwrecks and smuggling. Even from 500m offshore the harbour of Polperro was obscured by folds in the hills and coast. Only modern constructions (the storm water tunnel outfall, and large whitewashed houses) betrayed its existence. The boat headed for home against the out-rushing tide and dropped us off inside the harbour just in time to depart on the last of the water as the harbour emptied.

Cornish slate at the base of the breakwater	The main thoroughfare through Polperro	The "Shell House" in Polperro
Polperro harbour
Polperro harbour entrance through the breakwater	Approaching Polperro from the sea	Tourists arriving as we departed

The boat trip had generated a thirst and a hunger, and by now the cafes had opened and visitors were pouring into the village, just as the water had poured out. We found a cafe wedged between buildings and overhanging a stream. It advertised tea, real coffee, cakes and clotted cream so in we went. I opted for the tea as experience had taught me that the English had mastered the brewing of this hot beverage, and we were informed that the scones with clotted cream were "Cornish teas" now that we had crossed the border from Devonshire. The barman, finding we were from New Zealand stretched his luck in trying to convince us that Cornish cream was better tasting than Devon but he would not be drawn on New Zealand cream. 

We then walked back up the valley, against the tide of visitors now surging down, past the cart loads of people, pulled by horses that were still munching grass when we arrived, and back to the car, now lost in a sea of vehicles in the very full car park.

Lizard Point

We continued SW, past Truro then turned south on the A3083 towards Lizard Point. The traffic faded away and so did the houses as the land towards the coast became relatively desolate and bleak. At last we reached Lizard, and parked the car on the village green along with many others. It was then a comfortable walk downhill to the top of the cliffs at Lizard Point and the southern-most point of England.

Houses on the approach to Lizard Point	Looking south from Lizard onto the most southerly part of mainland Britain	At Lizard Point looking up to the lighthouse
Lizard Point from the west	Kynance Cove and Lizard Point in the distance	Kynance Cove

We strolled back up the path to the carpark, buying a small candleholder turned from local serpentine at one of the many souvenir shops that characterise the village of Lizard. Then a picnic lunch on the grass in the carpark, and for once we were not alone in dining from the boot of the car. A fellow picnicker was spotted brewing tea from an identical blue & green Thermos flask (but I doubt his had made the round trip to New Zealand).....

By now time was marching on and the remaining 33 miles to Lands End was looking impossible given the winding roads and amount of traffic, so we decided to visit the NT-managed beach of Kynance Cove, just west of Lizard.

Kynance Cove

Kynance Cove is a small sheltered beach just west of Lizard. The coast and surrounding land is a wildlife reserve managed by the National Trust, who fleece you for using both their toll road and their beach. From an Antipodean perspective the beach was nothing special, but for England the mixture of white quartz sand, dark rocks and deep blue sea was quite spectacular. The sandy beach was crowded with people who had braved both the NT toll and the steep gravel path in order to lie imitating beached whales on the sand.

Redruth

From Lizard we abandoned all idea of reaching Lands End (heartened by the travel books that universally pan this place as an important stop on your travel route) and headed north instead to Redruth in the heart of Cornish mining country. Redruth has an extensive mining museum with displays and underground tours, but we arrived too late (~4pm) to visit these, so settled for the wonderful working display of a beam pumping engine.

Then it was a slow trip north on the A30 and A38 to Plymouth where we decided to stop for dinner at a Brewer's Fayre establishment at Lockyers Quay. A nice location on the waterfront and a welcome drink and meai.