The last time I stepped off the Cremyl ferry into Cornwall and taken the path through the Mount Edgecombe estate, it had been a hot and sunny day back in May. The gardens had looked brand new, the wisteria climbing vigorously up the Orangery where I lingered now for a coffee to wait for the rain to stop. The gardens were empty today. The lollipop trees were beginning to brown and Virginia Creeper over the folly ruins was already vermillion-red. A playing-pitch expanse of garden was carpeted, hedge to hedge, with begonia, pink, red and white.
Lovely to read the very evocative account of your lone walking adventure in autumn. I remember Cawsand so well from our SW Coastpath experiences. The sea there was so cold in May 2013 that it made my head ache. But then two well-covered teenagers entered the water without wetsuits and frolicked about as if it was the Med. Oh to be young and hardy!
Oh imagine! I was tempted with swimming but so much of that path is inaccessible to the sea. It always looks inviting but when you finally get to a beach, it’s blowing a hooley! Too much extra stuff to carry anyway ☺️
Lovely to read the very evocative account of your lone walking adventure in autumn. I remember Cawsand so well from our SW Coastpath experiences. The sea there was so cold in May 2013 that it made my head ache. But then two well-covered teenagers entered the water without wetsuits and frolicked about as if it was the Med. Oh to be young and hardy!
Looking forward to hearing about the second day
Oh imagine! I was tempted with swimming but so much of that path is inaccessible to the sea. It always looks inviting but when you finally get to a beach, it’s blowing a hooley! Too much extra stuff to carry anyway ☺️