Introduction


When we started walking the coast of England we had no intention that this would become a major lifetime project. Having to make a last-minute arrangement for our summer holiday in 1987, we said "Let's go to the nearest piece of coast and see how far we can walk along it." It turned out well and we started adding further stretches of coast, initially once every two years, but soon annually, or even twice a year.

We had always enjoyed the coast - there is something refreshingly "edgy" about having the sea always at our side, and one of us was into marine molluscs. We also enjoyed long-distance walking and had long been involved in general natural history recording. This project enabled us to combine all three interests.

You soon discover when embarking on a project like this that you need a few rules, which evolve from the first experiences. Our main rule was that we should walk as close to the coast as possible, which meant beach-walking whenever we could (unlike the official coast paths that largely remain above shore, recognising that at high tides the beach may be inaccessible). The route should also be capable of being a continuous walk, so that when we came to an unfordable river we walked inland along its banks to the first place at which we could cross, whether a bridge or a ferry.

We only carried light packs, so that at the end of each day's walk we had the problem of getting back to our car where we started. Initially we walked back, but soon realised we would be walking the coast twice this way! We used public transport whenever this was available - buses or trains, sometimes adjusting our start and finish points to make this easier. Failing this - and it was often not possible - we would phone for a taxi (an increasingly costly option over the years). Having our car with us gave us more freedom as to where we could stay at night - and after a day walking and only light food we were usually ready for being spoiled by a good meal and a comfortable bed! Even so, we stayed on the coast itself whenever there was a decent option.

Each walk was made for enjoyment, it was not a route-march to see how quickly we could get it finished. We therefore took it gently at times when passing through pleasant scenery or where there were many plants or creatures to record.

In terms of biological recording, we systematically noted every bird, butterfly, creature or sea-shell that we came across, sometimes spending time searching for the shells. We could not record every plant in the same way - there are too many common ones - so we were more selective, noting all coastal plants and any others that were not run-of-the-mill.

In our daily posts, edited from our original diaries, we include a star-rating from no star to **** according to our subjective estimate as to how special that day was from the point of view of natural history. This score (and our daily records) will, however, have been affected by the weather - it is difficult to appreciate the environment fully, for instance, in torrential rain, and there are many more butterflies and other insects to be seen in warm sunshine!

A summary of all our natural history records on the walk can be found using this link: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B1LLGD55lKRHYXd1SGU1QndrcUU/edit?usp=sharing





Friday 17 January 2014

Cornwall: Gorran Haven to Portloe 13/8/1998


 

Herringbone pattern wall
 
Porthlune Cove
 
Portloe
For a mile or two the path was reasonably level, passing through improved pasture, with sea-views when we were not behind high hedges or wind-sculptured trees.  The walls were of the attractive traditional Cornish herring-bone pattern or rough boulders, topped with earth to stabilise them, making a good hold for plants.  Several times we encountered a man frantically running up and down the coast path shouting for his wife, two children and a dog lost to him for a long time.  We never saw them and never found out if they were re-united, a nightmare scenario, somewhat dampening our spirits.  At Dodman Point we had a view both ways before crossing more National Trust land to Hemmick Beach where we collected some shells, including more Callista chione.  There was a large patch of dittander by the stream feeding into here.
      The path then became more undulating, including one steep pasture where cows added to the ordeal by trying to block the way.  We then arrived at busy Caerhays Castle and Porthlune Cove. This and the next beach were both narrow at the head but very long when the tide is out, and the firm wet sand made an easy walk to Portholland, a quiet unspoiled village where there was a wonderful store.  The little shop was managing well serving teas on silver trays and other snacks to a continuous stream of customers.  As we sat there in the sunshine eating Cornish ice-cream and eyeing a tray of sea-urchins for sale, we decided we had time and energy for the further walk to Portloe. 
      We left the beach over a stream filled with Indian balsam and past viper’s bugloss.  This was the most demanding section.  As the pathway had just been trimmed we were at least not assailed by nettles, but it meant there were no interesting plants to look out for, although we did see a little pale flax, western gorse and lesser birdsfoot trefoil, plus some pink purslane as we came down to Portloe.  We also encountered the front half of a small eel, perhaps dropped by some gull or one of the sea-fishermen seen frequently along here searching for access to remote rocks.  In the village it took us a while to find our place for the night, the Lugger Hotel, involving several flights of steps and a tramp across a bridgeless stream.  It is situated on the coast path itself.  We ate local sea-bass but a bottle of Rioja knocked us out in our dehydrated state: we must learn to take more water.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Dittander
 
 
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