| 
Golden
  samphire 
St
  Mawgan 
Herringbone
  wall with English stonecrop & buckshorn plantain | 
At the north end of Mawgan Porth beach there was golden
  samphire on the cliffs.  The path up
  here was full of mining bee holes with the bees, and parasitic wasps, busy
  buzzing around them.  We passed between
  the cliff edge and meadows, where skylarks were singing, but the grass having
  just been cut for silage any nests they had were presumably destroyed.  The cliffs along this stretch, mostly
  National Trust, are sheer and, being of shale in the main, very crumbly.  Both peregrines and kestrels were
  patrolling.  At Carnewas Point we ran
  into crowds of people from the nearby car-park.  The scenery was stunning, with the strong
  north-westerly winds creating large billows to crash against the rocks.  Many stacks stood just off the coast, made
  of harder volcanic rocks, including the famous series composing Bedruthan
  Steps.  A double rampart ancient
  earthwork was visible on the headland. 
  We ventured down some steps into the cove, but the sea was too high,
  approaching high tide, and we could not get on to the beach.  Many of the field walls are made of the
  distinctive and decorative herringbone pattern from flat pieces of
  shale.  We saw a field mouse peeping
  out of a hole in one.  At one place the
  turf of the path was composed of chamomile, always a delight to tread because
  of the scent it raises.   
      We
  took the long path to the far end of Park Head, where there was again plenty
  of golden samphire.  North from here
  the cliff-tops had lots of dyer’s greenweed, sometimes dominant.  We descended into Porth Mear for lunch on
  the shale beach, as the cliffs afforded some shelter from the persistent cold
  wind, although we had to be wary of spots of oil.  This cove, like  | 
Carnewas
  Point 
Approaching
  Bedruthan Steps | 
Day by day account of our walk around the coast of England, and the Welsh and Scottish borders, with notes on natural history.
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
Tuesday, 21 January 2014
Cornwall: Mawgan Porth to Constantine Bay 21/6/1999
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