South West Coast Path Day 12.
Distance today: 18.5 miles.
Total distance: 1310.1 miles.
Accommodation: campsite.
When I first got out of my tent, Angry Audi Man was already up, polishing his car.
On the trail by 7.30 and even that early it felt like it was going to be another hot one. The beaches and the cliff-top walking were as lovely as ever and when I reached Watergate Bay it was interesting to see that they had at least made some effort to blend in the more recent holiday property development into the surroundings.
I reached Newquay by about 10.30 and inevitably tracked down the Wetherspoons to get some breakfast and charge my phone. The bad news was that my ‘quick charge’ was no longer working. I think I must have bounced my phone one too many times. I cant remember the last time either my phone or my power block were fully charged. With so much time spent on my own in relatively unpopulated surroundings, it was always a bit of a culture shock when I did pass through a busy town. Maybe I am doing Newquay a disservice but it had a cheap ‘n’ cheerful feel to it.
Once I’d stocked up on snacks, my next challenge was to get across the River Gannel. It all depended on the tide. At low tide, you could cross using the Penpol foot Bridge and so I optimistically headed in that direction even though I could see the tide was starting to come in. Checking with some people who were walking the other way, they confirmed I was too late. The bridge was already under water. Still determined I could beat the system, I looked for other ‘unofficial’ places to cross but finally admitted defeat and used the bridge further inland. Even once I had crossed over, I barely managed to get onto higher ground before the access was blocked by the incoming water. Tide waits for no man.
Looking down on to the busy looking Crantock Beach from the SWCP, I couldn’t help thinking of Martin Parr’s iconic seaside photos. It was a patchwork quilt of wind breaks, umbrellas, chairs, towels, tents, and swimming costumes. There just seemed something very nostalgically British about it.
Continuing around the coast, I stopped for a coffee at the slightly upmarket C-Bay Bar & Bistro. I think I successfully managed to lower the tone of the place. Nice views across the bay.
Did I mention that it was hot? When I got to Holywell Bay at around 5.30, I was definitely flagging. I’d been looking online for a campsite but I’d struggled to find anything that wasn’t either a traditional holiday park or caravans and campervans only. I went to ask in the Gull Rocks Bar to see if they knew of anywhere nearby. I will credit them with giving me a name. I will also name-and-shame them for going to the effort of having a sign made up that stated “We do not refill water bottles so please do not ask“. Given that they are next to both the beach and the SWCP and it is the height of summer, what kind of mean-spirited fuck-you policy is that? It is almost bordering on being irresponsible.
And so to the campsite.
Picture the scene. A tired walker arrives at a coastal resort having spent all day walking (for charity) in muggy heat. It’s 5.30pm and ideally he wants a campsite and a shower rather than having to carry on looking for a wild camping spot. After being given the name, he finds the Parkdean holiday park (remember Grannie’s Heilan’ Hame) and yes, they have a pitch available. The woman on reception appears to be new and spends 10 minutes struggling to put his details in the system and then she finally tells him the price. FORTY SEVEN POUNDS! That has to be a mistake, he says. Can you check with your colleague? And her colleague confirms yes, that was the price. It’s high season. No view, no phone signal, nowhere to charge a phone, no free bar, no champagne breakfast. More than 4 times the price of the campsites he went to before and after. Scandalous. To his shame he still took it.
I get it. It’s a big organisation, there’s no room for flexibility and to a large degree it doesn’t matter to them if the pitch is taken up by 1 person in a small tent or 4 people in a campervan. I get it but it is still mean-spirited. And it is still basically saying: walkers not welcome.
With very little charge left on my phone, I was forced to have a couple of pints in the bar, sitting next to a socket, while all the Parkdean resorts linked up for a game of bingo and then, happily out of sight around the corner, our local Redcoat compered some audience participation styled entertainment. Fun for all the family. And yes, I was still fuming.
