After three months I was finally a day away from reaching the end of the Lizard Peninsula, Britain’s most south westerly point, and – coincidentally – lying at the end of a straight line south west from my home. What are the chances?
To get there, I planned to follow my line along the indented Cornish south coast, making use of two separate ferries to allow for continuous progress over the watery interruptions. It was the perfect day for being out on the water, and I love ferries. They have featured heavily in my British adventures; but today they would be new routes I had not cycled before, so I was quite excited by this.
But first I had to get to the coast. That took me about thirty minutes from St Blazey and I arrived at a stunning place that was somehow completely new to me. Charlestown Harbour is a World Heritage Site and it feels like you have arrived in an episode of Poldark. It is a long, deep inlet from the sea, protected by massive sea walls. Here, today, three tall ships were tied up, adding to the sense of history. Above on the land were an array of pubs, shops and cafes and it really was a place worth visiting. I stayed long enough to enjoy coffee and cake in the morning sun.
The roads of Cornwall are rarely flat, and I had plenty of up and down to deal with over the next couple of hours as I made my way along the lanes of the Roseland Peninsula to charming St Mawes, which sits at the very bottom, opposite Falmouth just inland from the mouth of the dramatic River Fal estuary. There is a castle on each headland, looking across at each other. It is a place of strategic importance. It is also a place of exquisite beauty, especially on a bright, sunny day like this. The broad, enclosed waters of the estuary, known as Carrick Roads, sparkled and the sails of hundreds of yachts in a rainbow of colours bobbed and danced on the waves. The white buildings of St Mawes shone against the green hillside and everything looked almost too lovely to be true.
I just had time to eat a freshly baked Cornish Pasty before the next passenger ferry set off from St Mawes to make the fifteen minute crossing to much larger Falmouth, a big port town with boat building and large cranes in its harbour, and even a naval vessel in port. We docked at the large pier and I cycled slowly along the crowded pedestrianised high street, which was a riot of colourful bunting, flapping above in the sea breeze.
But Falmouth had more to offer as I crossed to the coast and stopped briefly at a series of three lovely beaches: Gyllyngvase, Swanpool and Maenporth, where happy beach goers were enjoying the sand and sea. And then a few miles beyond, around more narrow twists and turns, I dropped steeply through trees to Helford Passage, with its inviting pub by the tidal inlet, studded with small boats. This ferry runs on demand and it left full as I arrived, leaving me time for a satisfying pint. I crossed alone with my bike in the small open boat. The ferry operator said that this summer had been as wet as he could remember here. That didn’t tally with my experience in the rest of the country, but it did with my only previous trip to the south west. You wouldn’t guess it from today, though. Or yesterday. Or tomorrow, according to the forecast. I was glad he was able to enjoy a little sun.
On the other side was the achingly pretty small village of Helford, with lots of thatched houses huddled into the deep valley. In weather life this, there really isn’t anywhere more beautiful. I climbed steeply out and up onto Goonhilly Down, where there are large, mushroom-like radio telescopes trained at the sky. And from there, in the more open vistas of the Lizard I was only a few miles away from Lizard village and then Lizard Point itself, with its obligatory lighthouse. You are high above the sea here, but it was very much the end of the road. So I cycled back a mile to the village and had a cream tea to celebrate while the gong was good.
I’m glad I got to experience all of this in great weather. Going home in June was a good – if easy – decision. I still had more than two hours of cycling left now, as I would have then, to reach Penzance and my train home. Tonight, it was a lovely ride along the coast, through Porthleven and along past St Michaels Mount, the unusual tidal island off Marazion that is crowned with a castle.
And that was it, barring a seafood platter in my Penzance hotel. I returned home the next morning and made it relatively smoothly despite my booked train to London being cancelled at short notice. The morning sun in Penzance became grey mist and rain by the Midlands, but there was more sun forecast everywhere for the rest of the week. Where, I wondered, would I be enjoying that?
