Another walk and yet more memories. I parked at Trenarren and walked down a path towards the coast tracing steps first trod when I was 8 or 9. The path leads to Black Head a coastal headland with an ironic name for a beauty spot. I paused to take a photo with cows in the foreground that I call “Cows eye view.”
On the rocks at Blackhead I caught my first seafish the unappetising Garfish. As a child I never wanted to eat my “greens” so a fish with green bones would never appeal. I also caught a pollack here the first fish I caught that I ate. My Brother and I were introduced to Black Head by a neighbour John Starnes a man who after my Father was a big influence on my life.
We had such a great time at Black Head s my Dad agreed to take us there. My Dad seriously unamused when my brother got the directions wrong and he drove the wrong way finally parked. Now was my time to shine despite my brother’s advice I guided us down the wrong footpath. My Dad never took us fishing again.
It was a dreary morning damp but no serious rain as I walked down the path to Blackhead. I headed over the top to the end and looking over the top I looked down at a fisherman on the rocks. He was on the rock that I stood on when I last came fishing. I hadn’t been fishing for years. My reel was corroded by saltwater that had seeped inside so I took it apart cleaned it and replaced the line with new line. When I climbed down on the rocks I set my rod up attached the reel and realised something was wrong the line was the wrong side of the bail arm. I could possibly cast out but had no way of reeling it back in. I had wound the line the wrong way around the reel. Other anglers wondered why I gave up so quickly. So no fishing that day and none since.
Today is not about fishing it is about walking so I leave Blackhead and walk towards Pentewan passing a stone tribute to poet and Historian AL Rowse that is inscribed with his words, “this was the land of my content.” Nothing describes Cornwall better. A beautiful location and I am lucky to live here. Today I am not feeling quite as lucky and the path has not been cut. Wet grass drags against my trousers as I walk steadily on. This is a steep route with lots of ups and downs. Few people are walking today but everyone I meet tells me the path is not clear and I confirm to them it is the same behind me.
I walk on up step and down steps eating a homemade pasty to keep me going as my trousers become wetter and wetter. Even the cows find me a curiosity running all the way across a field before trying to eat my rucksack. Continuing to Pentewan I walk down the hill into the village my bottom half drenched. I have stumbled a few times so I decide it is time for a treat a blackcurrant and cream ice cream.
I have only walked three miles but I am surprisingly tired trousers heavy on my legs. My plan had been to walk back on the coast but I had stumbled several times unable to see my footing so I decided to walk back along the road. I set off up the aptly named Pentewan Hill. A long steep hill that I take step by step. The road narrowed by uncut hedges so I have to stand in the hedge every time a car passes. Slowly drying off I plod steadily on walking the three miles back to the car.
Another walk down memory lane and then home to a warm bath so my muscles can forget.
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