Author Archives: Ruth Livingstone

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About Ruth Livingstone

Walker, writer, photographer, blogger, doctor, woman, etc.

129 Trevone to Padstow

I look to see if I can scramble across the rocks. The water is only three or four feet deep. What if I carried my rucksack on my head and waded across? But I hate soggy boots. What if I carried my socks and boots on my head too? While I am considering this, a dark and angry rain cloud is creeping up behind me. Continue reading

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128 Porthcothan to Trevone

Down on Treyarnon Beach, people are setting up for the day. I am always amused by the English custom of erecting windshields and constructing little houses on the sand. Continue reading

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127b Mawgan Porth to Porthcothan

And then I am walking above an area whose features read like poetry on my map: Whitestone Cove, Pendarvas Point, Redcove Island, Bedruthan Steps, Queen Bee’s Rock, Diggory’s Island, Pentire Steps.
But it’s not just the names that are beautiful. Continue reading

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127a Newquay to Mawgan Porth

I walk above small coves and rocks with wonderful names; Criggers, Lusty Glaze, Wine Cove. I can see all the way up to Dinas Head and The Bull rock, with Trevose Head beyond. The distant rocks of Quies stick out of the sea, looking like great ships. Continue reading

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126 Newquay

Convincing myself the rain has slackened, I leave the café and walk towards Towan Head. If the weather had been decent, I would have walked out to the end of the peninsula, but I can’t face it in the lashing rain today. Continue reading

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125 Perranporth to Newquay

The official South West Coast Path climbs up a flight of steps – going up a crumbling cliff with a large red sign:
DANGER – FALLING ROCKS
Continue reading

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124b St Agnes to Perranporth

Waves roll in, line after line of swelling water, and the sea is crowded with surf boards. Perched high above is an industrial landscape, dotted with the smooth-sided mounds of quarried material and punctuated by chimneys. Continue reading

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124a – Portreath to St Agnes Head

It is a lovely August morning. The air is clear and fresh and I fall into an easy rhythm and feel I could walk a hundred miles without tiring. Then I fall off the end of the map… Continue reading

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123 Hayle to Portreath

I see this long, wriggly thing on the damp sand. At first I think it is a snake. Then I think it must be an eel. But it has no fins and no apparent gills. In the end I believe it is a slow worm. Continue reading

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122 – St Ives to Hayle

Lelant station is lovely. Tubs of flowers, a nice wooden seat, and the place is kept spick and span. Best of all, there is an amazingly beautiful view across the estuary. Sitting here, you wouldn’t care if your train was late. Continue reading

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