LOCATION: Clovelly to Penzance
What's happening
It was a very ordinary English pub but we were well cared for and extremely comfortable. So much so, @Mac scored his highest sleep score ever on his watch. A soft bed, window open for fresh air, comfy pillows and a cozy doonah.
Rallied for a full English breakfast and had to stifle our laughter because our breakfast waitress was welcoming everyone with “MyLovely.” @Nigel had warned us this was a Cornish thing - that both males and females address everyone as “MyLovely.” So our breakfast progressed with “MyLovely" overload for every guest. @Mac thought it was just for him and actually claimed he was a little jealous when every guest who rolled in got the same treatment.
We were on a shovel and scoff schedule because we had to make up for lost tyre time and were outside on the dot of 8.40 with @Nigel hopping from foot to foot, full of get up and go and ready for the road.
The Adventure
Lots of driving as we made our way along the coast but stops today that rated full marks - and all for different reasons.
Clovelly; How clever. This is a private village. It is a harbour town built on a cliff. The village is owned by a family and the locals rent their homes. No cars, just an absolute cracker of an ascent on a narrow cobblestoned ribbon of a pathway.
You pay to get in and you are allocated a timeslot. Yes. We were yesterday but when we explained our tyre circumstances and @Nigel went in with the charm offensive - the gatekeeper "made an exception." And, because we were so early, and taking sympathy for my dodgy limping gait, even permitted @Nigel to drive the vehicle on the pub route to pick me up.
There are very few exceptions to vehicle traffic here - a jeep does run from 11 till 4 to take infirm people back up the hill - we were way too early for that!
On a day to day basis - the locals use sledges to move gear. Yep, wheeless trays drawn by people (donkeys in the day ... some still in the village - retired) We saw the locals at working. Dragging food and supplies. Saw three hotel workers dragging guest luggage. @Nigel's whispered observation - not ours - as he greeted everyone in the laneways "Did you notice that? They're all so miserable!" We couldn't elicit a smile from anyone - a definite hard life and wow, many of the people we saw this morning were old old.
Actually quite fortunate we'd had that trye incident - can't imagine what this walk would have been like in the rain!
You start at the top of the village, looking down a steep cobbled narrow ribbon that drops toward the sea. It zigs, zags and zigs again. The stones are uneven, shiny from centuries of boots, donkeys, and sledges. As you walk, the cottages are very close—whitewashed walls, bright hanging baskets and gardens filled with colour. At the bottom the pub and the arms harbour wall protecting the fleet of boats. All at low tide for our visit.
Felt like you had stepped into a postcard!
Thank goodness the lady had given permission for @Nigel to drive down. The road back so narrow and steep I just had to close my eyes and count backwards.
Boscastle: our introduction here was the dilemma of the paid toilet. Prior to entry, @Mac had us doing the desperation two step outside searching through his man bag trying to find a 20 p coin each. Eventually located one - and had to stoop to cheating the system at the unisex toilets by using just our single coin and both squeezing through the turnstile together. On exit and a meetup with @Nigel, we learnt this was literally a "tap and go!" There was an option to use your phone/card to tap in the doorway! Saved ourselves 20p and the international transaction fee - but seriously, what will they think of next.
Anyway - Boscastle. Absolutely stunning coastal harbour views, complete with headland, harbour and blowhole. But @Nigel and his book of course bring the past and future together to recreate stories of floods, witchcraft and smugglers or as the Cornwall independents like to call it ... "free trade." A wander through the town, stops to compare what was with what is and a final climb to the headland and the blow hole. Really loved this spot because of its stories.
Port Isaac: Sooo, we are not Doc Martin fans and we're absolutely clueless about this one but after a visit and @Nigel's stories, maybe we can catch a few episodes at home. But given our first two stops this morning, maybe a little visit we could have done without.
First impressions- it was all seaweed, salt, whitewashed houses, narrow laneways, steep hills into the harbour and boats. The stories around tge village's rescue boat and how it is hauled through the village was interesting and we did pass the test of Squeezebelly Alley. Did get to see the swooping sea gulls in action here. The man walking in front of us lost the majority of his icecream cone to a swooping gull - so quick, so accurate - was like a trick at Currumbin Bird Sanctuary - snapped it out of his hand!
Tintagel Castle: (tin +tadge + gel) wow, wow and wow. Castle ruins, suspension bridge, dramatic coast, King Arthur and Merlin. Wow, wow and wow again. Raw cliffs, the Atlantic and the silhouette of the castle, pathways and stairways clinging to the cliffs. Beautiful. Fantastic. If you have trouble with heights - maybe not your kind of place. You literally walk the edge. I was terrified for the children who were strolling here . And have to mention how many DOGS there are - unlike the children, they were all safely tethered on leads and were no risk of tumbling over the edge. But there were dozens of dogs!
The suspension bridge is a recent addition - opened in 2019. In the original castle, the headland was completely joined to the mainland. The wind and the Atlantic have combined to create the collapse. Access prior to the bridge was via thre steps down to and then up from the beach. The last climb up the walkway to the road at the exit was enough for me!
But at the top, there was another reward in the world's best pasty shop. The traditional was sold out - next batch was 16 minutes away - so @Mac had the chorizo infused variety washed down with a Cornish cola. Had the lesson on how to hold it properly, so you didn't get the dirt from your tin mine fingernails in your food. Rating ... hmmm ... it's no Yatala pie.
Bedruthren Steps: What a coastline and we were getting it under blue skies. Wild, windswept and just open to the wiles of the Atlantic. There were beaches down there, historically accessible at low tide (not now because of landslides) and the green above the cliff was being set up for the upcoming holidays. Billed as one of Cornwall's most dramatic coastlines, it's a serrated line of sea stacks with some reaching 30 metres high.
The classic tale says a giant named Bedruthen used the towering sea stacks as stepping stones to cross the bay. Each stack is a “step,” and the giant supposedly strode from one to the next with ease.
It was a perfect fullstop to a day of cliffs and watery views.
Finished the day with the 50 min drive into Penzance with kilometres just disappearing under the wheels because we had the radio on listening to the first half of the rounded of 32 England vs Senegal game where the "bad guys" scored in the first 7 minutes. We had to endure the miserable, negative commentary of the Britsh broadcasters as they lost all hope for a victory. Not us - in Harry we trust - that was the conversation in our vehicle.
Found our home for two nights in the skinniest laneway. Made our way upstairs in the skinniest stairwell. Opened our door to the tiniest room to date. Had to have a work place health and safety meeting to coordinate opening the door and having two people enter with two pieces of luggage. Had to take turns in the entrance. Had to move furniture to get in the doorway. Definitely can't have two bags open. And if @Mac had jumped on the bed, his arms would touch one wall and his feet the door. No matter, managed a workaround, tuned into the BBC and cheered on the heroics of Harry.
Worked out a strategy for exit and joined dozens of happy Englishmen at the local fish and chips shop after the game. Had no choice - had to sit on a bench on the Promenade in the cold and wind - definitely no option at "home."
Cuddled in close in what was a warm and comfy bed dreaming of a day that doesn't have quite as many steps! Mind you - not whispering in @Mac's ear- bed a little tight - sleeping head to toe. Love it. 🤪
A moment 💋 for our vicarious adventurers the @Littlens
Worth every step - from above at the ruins of Tintagel
Survival Barometer
Steps: 16 328 - loads of steps, hills and uneven surfaces
Weather: car registered 14.5 outside - but hovered around 19
Can you believe that?
A little background from Co-Pilot.
🏰 Why you pay an entry fee for Clovelly
Clovelly introduced paid entry in the 1980s because the estate faced a large backlog of repairs. When John Rous inherited the village in 1983, he created a visitor centre so that all admission income could be reinvested into upkeep — repairing cottages, maintaining the cobbles, preserving the harbour, funding facilities, and managing tourism. The fee also helps control visitor numbers (around 150,000 per year
👑 Who owns Clovelly
Clovelly has been privately owned for centuries. Its ownership line is unusually continuous:
Originally recorded in the Domesday Book as property of William the Conqueror.
Later inherited by Matilda of Flanders, England’s first crowned queen.
Still owned today by their descendants, the Rous family, with John Rous as current custodian. This continuity is why the village feels “frozen in time”: one estate has shaped it for nearly 300 years
🌉 What makes the bridge at Tintagel special
It spans a 190‑foot gorge using two cantilevers that almost meet, leaving a symbolic 40mm gap. It recreates the original medieval land bridge that eroded away between the 15th–17th centuries. Built from steel, Cornish slate, and oak, with ultra‑fine balustrades designed to visually disappear.
🥟 The “handle” you throw away — The thick crimp wasn’t originally for decoration. Miners had arsenic on their hands from the tin seams, so they held the pasty by the crimp and discarded it to avoid poisoning themselves.
🥟 Protected by law — Since 2011, “Cornish pasty” is a PGI‑protected food, meaning it must be made in Cornwall with specific ingredients and a side crimp. A pasty made in Devon is legally not a Cornish pasty.
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