A Cornish BroMoon

Four sweaty men and a few pints of cider.

Two years ago, in a moment of remarkable prescience for yours truly, I had an idea. Good ideas don’t come often to me so I had to act fast. Figuring (correctly) that COVID was going to last a while, I decided I needed something to look forward to other than a) pandemic weight gain and b) the weekly Okanagan doorstep wine delivery which was becoming a little too regular and comfortable. A walking trip would be ideal I thought, but when, where and who with?

I contacted three good friends, all geologists like me, over WhatsApp.

Chaps, I said. We need to something to look forward to other than a) our pandemic weight gain b) and the weekly doorstep wine delivery.

Agreed, they said in a WhatsApp-in-unison sort of way.

So, says I, why don’t we book a walking trip in the UK for the summer of 2022? How about a week or two hiking along the Cornwall / Devon coast? If we book now we can pick the optimum window for a good old-fashioned sunburn, like mid-July to early August.

Oh yes. We’re in if you book it! they replied somewhat cryptically.

Righty ho. I replied. Will do.

The Time Has Arrived

Fast forward 2 years and the trip is upon us: The idea I had 2 years back seems more and more inspired the closer we get to departure and the level of excitement in our small Band of Brothers is palpable. We depart this Saturday (July 16) assuming Air Canada doesn’t cancel our flight -pleasepleasepleasegodno. One of the guys is already packed and ready to go, 2 days ahead of his flight.

Me*, Dave, David and Tim start walking Tuesday from St Ives on the north coast of Cornwall to Pendeen, 22km rugged kilometres away and I can’t bloody wait to get started. Day 2 is 24km from Pendeen to Porthcuro around Lands End. All in, we have 15-16 days of walking ahead of us along some of Europe’s most attractive coastal scenery.

The long-range weather forecast is looking good so Cornwall can look forward to regular sightings of a group of lobster-pink, middle-aged-and-slightly-chubby men slogging their way around the coast, praying for death the next pub. Yes ladies, if photos of rugged looking windswept men is your thing; hunky man bods posing on Atlantic cliff tops, mooby t shirts moist and steaming with sweat from long hours carrying packs heavy with lunch, well you’ve come to the right place.

*We’re going to have a couple of guest appearances along the way. First up my rugged sea faring friend Captain Nick who just crewed a sail yacht from Norway to the UK for some reason which currently escapes me.

Why Cornwall? Why Devon? etc etc.

The southwest peninsula of Britain is an amazing stretch of coastline, drenched in history, and home to some of the most fascinating geology in Britain. It’s so interesting that to be frank, we’re going to have a 2-week long geology nerd out. Granites, tin mines, an ophiolite complex, Jurassic sediments, fossils OMG the rocks THE ROCKS!! It’s a geo-wet dream for the four of us. I predict lots of heavy breathing, sighs and meaningful looks as we tenderly stroke the outcrops together and sunbathe topless on sensuous slabs of fossiliferous limestone. Phew. Calm down Rushton.

The 3 of us who are products of a UK college know the area well from our undergraduate geological field trips. Any geologist who graduated from a UK university with a decent field program has likely spent time on that stretch of coast, and it’ll be a nostalgic dive into our combined university past. David on the other hand is an American (we’ll forgive him) and a west country neophyte so he’s in for 2 weeks of endless boring stories about which pubs the locals chased us out of and which outcrops we puked on when we were really hung over. Lucky David.

My wife knows this part of England best as the home of the pec-tastic fictional character Captain Ross Poldark, last seen on TV, bare-chested on a finely muscled white horse ploughing through the waves on a Cornish beach looking for a distressed damsel to rescue.

Thanks, Mickledore!

If all of this sounds like a lot of work to book and schedule, it wasn’t. I hired some help, and booked the trip via a UK-based company called Mickledore which -in the Cornish language- means miracle workers. Mickledore’s army of Holiday Elves book all the accommodations along your chosen route, arrange for your luggage to be moved every day, and baby sit your dog in their office for 2 weeks free of charge (ok, I made that last one up). Which means you don’t have to hike with a knee-busting pack full of tent poles, melted chocolate and smelly clothes. Three years ago, my wife and I used them to arrange a one-week hiking trip along Hadrian’s Wall up on the border with Scotland and it was a perfect short break with nothing to do but think about the next day’s walk and gorge on breakfast sausages.

Hiking Purists Can Bugger Off

I know you purist outdoors-types might object to this way of doing things -it’s the lazy person’s hiking trip, I hear you whisper with barely concealed contempt – to which I’d reply, yup, it is and that’s the damned point. It’s perfect for pudgy middle-aged folk who’s full-contact hiking days are disappearing in the rear-view mirror serenaded by the creak of strained waist lines. This way we can walk 20-25km a day at our own pace, with only a soggy egg mayonnaise sandwich and a can of beer to weigh down the day pack. And when the day’s perambulation is done, we simply stroll cooly into the village pub, to swap witty stories with the locals about the day’s events, while quaffing a pint of the west country’s finest scrumpy.

(For those of you who haven’t heard of it, scrumpy is apple cider – it used to be known for being an extremely alcoholic alternative to beer. Every town in southwest England had a scrumpy pub. Accepted wisdom had it that the scrumpy they sold got rougher and stronger the further southwest you went in England. By the time you hit Devon and Cornwall, it was vaguely apple flavoured wood alcohol that turned grown men blind after one sip and caused beard growth in young women. We students all knew that if you wanted to get royally wazooed of a night, a few pints of scrumpy would help you on your way. Once you’d downed those, there was no way back. If you really wanted to cut loose, you’d drink snakebites, half beer half cider, and all civility would vanish.)

A Weight Gain Program

Much as I’d like to claim this trip will be about walking ourselves fit and losing weight, previous experience suggests the opposite will happen. My wife and I walked 175km in 7 days along Hadrian’s Wall. But a diet of full English breakfasts, and pub meals washed down with a few flagons of ale each night meant we both gained 3-4 pounds on the walk. It’s bloody hard work to pack on the pudge while walking so much but we managed it.

And My Point?

Where am I going with all of this blather? Well, I plan to document the trip as we walk / hobble our way to Dorset. Rather than bore my vast universe of regular readers with every post, I’ve set up a separate page for anecdotes and photos which you can access here.

If anything remotely interesting happens, I’ll be sure to post it 3-days later when all the excitement has died away and I’ve forgotten the details. Be sure to check back regularly from July 18th on and I’ll try not to disappoint.

And remember…

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