St Just seems to have been by-passed by Storm Katy, or perhaps I just slept so well that I wasn’t really aware of the high winds that have caused chaos to the road networks around the country.
After breakfast, He and I headed to Perrenuthnoe, parked near the beach and headed onto the coastal path intent on reaching Prussia Cove. I was there in September and power-walked the 4mile return trip in 80minutes. The sun was shining then and I gorged on blackberries in lieu of water and provisions.
Today, however, after the recent squally showers, the ground underfoot was somewhat muddy and slippery. We were in no rush and so took our time, gingerly navigating some of the longer stretches of sludge, being mindful not to catch jackets or eyes on low lying branches.
We passed several families and couples, all clad head to toe in waterproof trousers, boots and jackets, as were we. One family tried bravely to erect a tent, but the winds were too strong and they had to abandon their efforts.
Bessy’s Cove and Prussia Cove were bathed in turn by bright sunlight and a torrential hailstorm. We shelter from the short lived storm and basked in the sun. In fact I had over-dressed and had to remove a layer.
We did witness one foolhardy father encourage his two sons close to the edge of the rocks in Bessy’s Cove in order that the mum could take a photo, from a safe distance of the three boys in her life. I could not believe how naive he was and how close the boys were to slipping. I’m relieved to say that no harm was done but had an over-sized wave appeared I’m not sure they would have escaped.
On our return to Perrenuthnoe, we had delicious homemade bean burgers in The Cabin and partook in a conversation centred around a barrel that was floating just off shore. Talk then moved to the landing of several barrels containing cocaine that had washed ashore and, allegedly, began their journey in the Caribbean.
Mousehole was our final destination for today and as always it didn’t disappoint. We parked the car 3/4mile from the town centre and walked in, mindful as I was that the streets become incredibly narrow and I was not in the mood for negotiating road space with locals who, inevitably, have no fear.
We passed a cottage that had been featured on Channel 4’s Homes by the Sea, and walked to the far end of the harbour to witness 5 brave surfers, clad in wetsuits, gloves, hats and surf boots head out into the swell. The sun comet again and we stood watching for 10-15minutes as one by one, they caught a wave that brought them closer to shore in order that they then swam back out to the backwater to catch the next set of thundering waves.
We are having fish and chips tonight from Jeremy’s in St Just, our treat after the delicious food presented over the weekend.
Tomorrow we are going to catch up with uncles, aunts and cousins en route to London to see L in her new flat.
St Michael’s Mount and Mud – a poem
Stormy seas and battered hedgerows,
muddy paths and opening gorse,
hidden coves and smuggler’s caves.
Walking beside the sea,
witnessing those in and on it,
dodging raindrops, shelter and hail,
fish n chips await.
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