Day 37 – Black Head (nr. Coverack) to The Lizard

Woke up dry and warm. No woodlouse took up residence in my objects. I'm calling the lookout a win. We had a look around the headland a little bit, said our goodbyes to Daniel, and off we fucked. The trail started off innocuous enough but it didn't take it long to deteriorate into swamps and [...]

Day 36 – Carne to Black Head (nr. Coverack)

Tarrant was most unhappy about the slug to tent ratio this morning and to be honest the slime trails criss-crossing the tent even made me a bit uncomfortable. Had they all had some manner of slug orgy on our roof as we slept below? Had we inadvertently pitched on a slug highway? Was it Slug [...]

Day 35 – Falmouth to Carne

Well it's rude not to have a little lie in when you're allowed to be where you are isn't it? Plus there was literally no point in rushing this morning. We were about ten miles from the Helford Ferry which can't run at low tide so there'd be no way across between 12pm and 2.30pm. [...]

Day 34 – Bohortha to Falmouth

We fell asleep to the sound of the waves crashing onto the rocks far below us and woke up to birds chirping in the hedgerow we'd pitched next to. Oh, and the sound of rain belting down on the tent. Considering we were on a slope I'd slept quite well, only waking up a few [...]

Day 33 – Dodman Point to Bohortha

Another absolute stunner of a night's sleep but yeah nah, didn't need any of that beer yesterday. It's not like we drank a lot but my entire being made it very clear that my age doesn't begin with a two anymore. Or a three for that matter. Fortunately today didn't need to be a rush. [...]

Day 32 – Black Head to Dodman Point

The hideous steps between St Austell and Mevagissey were foretold by a chap I talk to on Instagram. Aaall the way down to come aaall the way back up. They're really quite upsetting but they're not actually relentless (I'm looking at you, Dorset). You have flat bits in between, sort of like recovery walks, an [...]

Day 31 – East Combe to Black Head

It's amazing what a difference a flat pitch makes. I slept so well that when the alarm went off I went back to sleep which is very much a Tarrant trick. I'm usually straight up and having to periodically nudge her to remind her that we need to human today. I had colourful dreams about [...]

Day 30 – Portwrinkle to East Combe

Fuck my life what an awful night's sleep. Clearly our definition of acceptably slopey is getting more and more liberal as the trail presents less and less places to camp. The slope we were on meant I didn't even have to wait until I fell asleep before I started slipping down my mat. I spent [...]

Day 29 – Plymouth to Portwrinkle

We figured we might as well have a nice, chilled start to the day, largely because literally any excuse to be a little bit lazy, plus we didn't have to check out until 11am. We treated ourself to a lie in until 7am, which is vastly more respectable than our usual 5am because we've pitched [...]

Day 28 – Bovisand Beach to Plymouth

It was meant to be sunny when we woke up but it was still very much wet and windy. Thanks, Met Office. I think we can safely ignore the weather forecast as we move closer to Cornish territory, though obviously we'll still check it obsessively. We were only nine miles from Plymouth and it shouldn't [...]