REFLECTIONS..

...on a memorable summer.....

This time last week, I was telling myself where I was this time last week.  Now I realise I am very fortunate to still have my health, the energy and the wherewithall to do things and go places.    But there comes a point in life when you realise that it won`t last forever and so you decide to get on with doing those things and going to those places while you still can and  before it`s too late.   I guess 72 is as good an age as any to come to that conclusion.....so I have done.   And I`ve stopped feeling guilty about it.  So we have had a summer of transforming that theory into practice.

And although my `this time last week` phase is beginning to fade, I am nevertheless still reflecting on the places we have discovered and revisited in our trips to Devon and Cornwall this year.   And the places I remember with most fondness are those remote sections of the south west coast path where you can just simply be - and let the spectacular scenery enthral, the sea air invigorate and the sounds of the waves, the skylarks and the seabirds captivate and remind you that, whatever labels may have attached themselves to you, whatever self-importance you may have nurtured and whatever place in so-called society you may occupy, you are but a transient speck in the timeless majesty of the natural world. 

So, where are these places?   Well, we started off in the South Hams of Devon in April and discovered Aymer Cove, pictured above.  It`s reached from a choice of footpaths leading from the tiny National Trust car park in the hamlet of Ringmore.  It was no surprise to discover that it was here that RC Sherriff wrote `Journeys End,` for that is what it felt like.   We revisited the quiet tranquility of the Erme estuary at Mothecombe, where time stands still and the tide dictates the walker`s progress - if you want to avoid a 9-mile detour, you have to wade across the Erme here which is only possible at low tide.  

We also renewed our fondness for the coast path from Wembury around to Newton Ferrers and the classic walk from Noss Mayo, around the headland, along the Warren and back to the village for a pub lunch.   (We have already booked up to stay in Noss Mayo next September so we can do it all again.)

Rosevine evening

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May saw us discover Rosevine, deep in Cornwall`s Roseland Peninsula and the away-from-it-all pleasure of strolling down the hill each morning to Porthcurnick beach, across the fields to Portscatho, getting what we needed  for the day and deciding where to go.   Spoilt for choice really, but we did manage to coast path around St. Anthony`s Head, the Percuil River, Nare Head and the Dodman as well as going back to the idyllic setting of the church at St. Just in Roseland.  (We`re going back there next Spring too, all being well.)

July took us to St. Minver on the north Cornwall coast and it was from there that we discovered yet another deserted but glorious cove at Lundy Hole on the stretch of coast path between Port Quin and Rumps Point.   We also found our way to Port Isaac and another visit to Daymer Bay and the magic wander along the Greenaway to Polzeath, up to Pentire Point and back down again.

And two weeks ago now, we were at Crantock, exploring the coast from there, around Polly Joke, Holywell Bay, past the blot on the landscape that is the Penhale army camp, on to St. Agnes Head and the spectacular Wheal Coates engine house, standing guard above the roaring Atlantic. 

Polly Joke

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But again, what will linger longest in the memory is the quiet remoteness of Polly Joke - too far from car parks to be crowded, no `facilities` apart from the beach, the sea, the surf and the surrounding hillsides of Kelsey Head.   Like `Journeys End,` it was no surprise to discover that it was here that Winston Graham hired a small hut and spent a summer writing Demelza, the forerunner to his Poldark series.

And now we have the winter looming ahead but the prospect of getting out there again, braving the headlands, discovering new coves, breathing in that salt laden air along endless beaches and clifftops and feeling truly alive, will make me determined to get to 73 and beyond and continue getting the most out of whatever life is left.   Do you blame me after a summer like that?