Day: 111 30/4/94 St Germans to Saltash

Weather: Fine     Distance:  21km (13 miles)      Total Distance: 1390 miles

I travelled down to Cornwall the previous evening to a campsite at Notter Bridge, just west of Saltash.  This was to be my last stay in Cornwall as part of this walk - a county with a lot of coastline!  I had found the campsite phone number in a book I had got from the library and from writing to the Tourist Information Centre at Saltash.  I had also enclosed details of my Cornwall clocks but they had not taken up my offer to buy one!  I arrived at the campsite fairly late and called into the gatehouse to find out where to pitch.  It was an unusual site in that the main road split the site in two and access to the campsite was under a small tunnel.  I pitched next to the river, using the lights from my car.  It was too late then to go for a drink so I had an early night.  It took a while to get to sleep because I was not that tired not having walked that day and because of the noise of the river.

 

On the Saturday I took the tent down because I thought I would probably pitch it somewhere else in the field that night and because I was unsure how safe the site was.  I drove to Saltash and eventually found the station. The main street was closed because it was festival weekend.  I caught the 8.20 train to St Germans, a local train but busy with people going to work and with surfers going to New Quay.  It was so busy that the conductor had only just got to me by the time we got to St Germans and because I offered him a five pound note he let me off without paying.  Needless to say there were not many who got off at this quiet village.

Before I had come down I had also written to the Earl of St Germans to ask if I could walk  through his land explaining what I was doing.  He did have the courtesy to reply but declined and said he has once walked from Cornwall to London only on minor roads, doing the last part by boat.  He also declined to buy a clock!  I later found out that my friend Paul had a story to tell about being stuck in a ditch while having a non-authorised driving lesson off his mum in the grounds of Port Elliot while his dad was in a choir practice.

The first part of the walk was thus along the main road, not too busy, but getting hotter by the minute.  I then cut across some fields on a footpath and though a nice wood coming out in the village of Tideford.  There was then not a very nice section along the main road which did not have a footpath only an uneven verge until I cut off again down towards St Erney.  I did not actually go into the village since it was a dead end but went around some of the minor roads.  It was a lovely quiet contrast to the main A38.  I got a couple of suspicious looks of people because there is nowhere to go on this little peninsular unless one has a reason to go to see someone.

 

Back up into the village of Landrake I could avoid the main road for a time by walking the streets in the village, except I got lost at one stage and ended up on as housing estate.  It was not long before I was on the main road again and skirting Notter on the bridge over the campsite.  I breathed a sigh of relief when I left the main road to head down towards St Germans River.  Not far down the road I turned off right to visit the Crooked Inn again - the pub that we had had lunch during our Easter visit.  This time however it was not such a pleasant call - mainly because I had to wait twenty minutes for it to open.  Once up the long drive I sat outside and watched the staff clean up and rescue a set of their keys trapped in a car.  I eventually gave up and opted for a cup of coffee.  There is something to be said for not going back to the same place twice as it is never as good on the second visit.
 

It was then back on thew minor roads again, just taking a minor diversion in Trematon off to the west to walk along a footpath through some fields.  Down near the estuary, but not in sight of the river, I cut off eastwards on a footpath that took me through someone's driveway - I checked with the occupants who were in the garden that I was on the right path.  The path then went through fields and skirted Wivelcombe Farm before trekking through some wooded area near a river - this was very nice and I stopped here for a while out of the sun and got my breath back.  Back up into fields, still following the railway line  and then cut down to the estuary again through some fields.  It was here that I passed by the houses outside which we had stopped last time we were on our way down to Llanreath.  Once through the village I had to cut inland again on the road and over a bridge to find myself in the outskirts of Saltash, past a church with a wedding about to start.

 

A right turn again led me down to the estuary once again to the village of Wearde Quay. There was a path on the maps, past the houses and alongside the railway line.  It was not obvious where the path was on the ground but I pressed ahead through the fields strewn with brambles.  Eventually the path disappeared and for a short while the only way I could make progress without turning back and making a long detour, was to walk alongside the railway line itself and then descend down a steep embankment onto a path and out into the suburbs of Saltash again.  By the time I got back to the car I was very hot, thirsty and pretty tired.  I stopped in a newsagents to get some pop and a paper - I remember the car being very hot!

It was still early so I decided to go to the last rugby match of the season in Plymouth against the league champions Clifton.  I sat in the stand to have a rest.  It was not very full but what crowd were there wee incredibly partisan it was laughable, always claiming Clifton were off side.  Clifton won but it was close and I enjoyed my pasty and tea at half- time.

I returned to the campsite, pitched the tent on the other side of the field from the previous day, showered, and phoned home. The site was now a bit fuller but friendly.  I got talking to one family across the way who had a lad who suffered from a bad skin condition.  The poor fellow had to keep a woolly hat on in this weather.  After that I went down the pub, just outside the campsite expecting an early tea in an empty pub only to realise it was packed full because it was "curry night" and one had to book a table. Eventually I realised that if I volunteered to sit outside, and it was still warm, I could eat their very good curry which I did and then came in to rehydrate a bit more.