A coastal walk from New Polzeath to Port Quin, October 2004

Dwight Peck's personal website

It's October 2004 -- so it's time for another visit to Devon and Cornwall

Enough of that Pub Food - We love it, but now we need to walk it off again.

A coastal walk from New Polzeath to Port Quin and back again

You may not find this terribly rewarding unless you're included here, so this is a good time for casual and random browsers to turn back before they get too caught up in the sweep and majesty of the proceedings and can't let go.

Kristin surmounts the beach at New Polzeath north of Padstow, Cornwall, fitted out to lope energetically all the way to Port Quin. Note the famous "hiking sandals", which let the feet breathe.

Elegant "Southwestern Coast Path" to speed us on our way.

There's Rump Point, formerly (long ago) a kind of Celtic fortress with a defensive wall across the neck connecting it to the mainland.

Street scenes

Hiking sandals are holding up.

A peek at the sea through the keyhole

One of the local attractions

Another of the attractions, nearing a quiet beach along the way

Down to the beach

A beach experience uninterrupted by noisy children or beach volleyball tournaments with alcohol

A contemplative moment for Kristin on the Cornwall coast, 19 October 2004.
Another one's due any day now.

The "castle" (centre), a party venue for the young lords and ladies in the 19th century.

Kristin peering down into the mines where the working-class lads toiled miserably and died early. The party palace of the young lords and ladies is up on the hill behind.

Lovely form, but decadence to an extraordinary degree. This was a party lodge for the local have-its, and the have-it-nots were naturally unwelcome. (But we're here now, and they're not.)

The party castle from afar (above), party kristin (below)

Port Quin --- uhh, not much here. Okay. Let's go back.

One of our many admirers on the homeward trek. This is one of the few animals we met during the entire hike who spoke nearly perfect English, and knew what he wanted. A magisterial sheep thing, if you know what I mean.