Day 1: Morwenstow, Feb 20th, 2006

I left home at 7.50am. After stopping at the bank for money, being diverted around Camelford, having to stop three times on the A39 for roadworks, and stopping for water in Kilkhampton (I had forgotten to bring any!), I finally arrived at the 13th century tearooms in Morwenstow and parked my car. I was the only one in the car park, although a people carrier containing three oldish types parked next to me a few minutes later. I got out of my car and was hit by a bitterly cold wind which wasn’t to let up for most of the day.
I walked back up the road I had driven down to tick off my first settlement of the day, and of my mission – Crosstown. A lovely little hamlet with just three or four houses and a 13th century pub. This pub is the only one in the area I would be visiting today. I considered coming here to eat at the end of day, but decided that it looked far too cosy for me to come and eat alone, lagged with mud.

From here I headed back up to the church. The notice claimed that the Parish Church of Saint Morwenna and Saint John the Baptist was open during daylight hours. It had been daylight for three hours, and it was still shut. I would be back later. On my way out of the churchyard, I paid a visit to St. John’s Well. I thought it might be funny to graffiti the words ‘not very’ in between ‘John’s’ and ‘Well’. How immature.
Now the walking – and the getting cold – began in earnest. A combination of fields, a bit of road, and a track brought me to Gooseham (pronounced ‘Goozam’) down in a valley. This idyllic visit was the most pleasant place to visit I came across all day. Not surprising then that two very big houses are in the process of being built, probably for doctors in Bude or something.
Three miles of lanes, passing a farm with a three metre high pile of turnips, brought me into Woolley, Cornwall’s northernmost settlement. It seemed fitting that it is probably the windiest place I have ever been to (exaggeration). About ten houses, a couple of farms, a big village green and a tiny converted chapel made up Woolley. Here, I was only about half a mile as the crow flies from the Devon border.
From Woolley, I intended to take a footpath through some fields, but I think it was blocked off, so I ended up taking country lanes for a mile to reach Eastcott, a hamlet of a similar size to Woolley. Eastcott had a much more ‘wild’ feel to it; still very cold and windy, but it didn’t have the green fields of Woolley. I tried to find the path marked on my map to the main road, but it had been built upon. A man with a northern accent told me that the right of way had hardly been used for a couple of decades. Road again.
I was intrigued by West Youlstone to the east, just a quarter of a mile from the border with Devon, but it turned out to be just a dairy farm and a house. I backtracked and wanted to take a left down a track past Killarney (was I in Ireland?) The young lad working the farmyard had a northern accent and special needs, so it took a while to work out that I needed to ask the owner of the house if I could walk down the track. Strange. He was a man of Indian appearance and recently moved down from Southport. Perhaps the furthest away from a Cornishman you could get. He explained to me that the track came to a dead end, and offered to show me. Fifteen minutes later we got to the dead end. What was I to do now? I decided to jump the hedge and go through the next field to see if the track was rejoinable. I reached another dead end. One of the things I have done wrong on many walks is not knowing when to backtrack. I think I got it right this time and headed back, frustrated, but with peace of mind. I made it back to the main road. A combination of this, a country lane, a track and some fields brought me to Shop, my biggest settlement of the day.
Shop is a quiet village, with all of Morwenstow’s main amenities: post office and stores, community centre and primary school. I had a much needed pasty from the village stores. I had to clarify with the gentleman that it was a pasty, as it didn’t look like one. On the way out, I stopped at Morwenstow Methodist Church, a bleak-looking and tiny church but which was still functioning. I also had a glimpse of Cornwall’s most northerly football club, Morwenstow AFC, currently having a cracking season in the North Devon League. A reputable side, but they are yet to prove themselves at senior level, having lost heavily to St. Agnes in this season’s senior cup.
From Shop, a nuclear village, to Woodford, a nuclear village, built on a road that goes, pretty much, to nowhere. A house with an immense number of flags (mostly English and British, but a couple of Cornish ones too) and a cute, well-kept (both inside and out) Methodist church were the main attractions of Woodford. The fact that there are two fully functioning Methodist churches within two miles of each other in this area is an indication of the strong Christian tradition in this part of Cornwall.
I found some rights of way that were actually still in use to take me down to the coast at Stanbury Mouth. Here I met a surfy dude from North Devon who was looking for isolated surf spots. The cliffs here are not that pretty, but they are rugged and spectacular, and unlike any other part of Cornwall in my opinion. Another thing they are is isolated. Lack of road access and steepness of climbs keeps the day walkers away. A place to get away from it all? Definitely! That is what the Reverend Hawker thought. He spent much of the latter part of his life in his hut, high up the cliffs. So high up that the curvature of the Earth can be seen. Given this precarious location, it occurred to me that Hawker must have been a man without suicidal tendencies. He was, according to records, an ‘impulsive giver’ and a man who cared deeply about his parishioners. His first marriage was to someone twice his age, and his second to a girl 41 years his junior. He sometimes had the task of burying sailors washed up on the coastline near Morwenstow. He is now known as far afield as Japan and the US. I sat in the great man’s hut for a while admiring the view, before leaving and wrecking the door in the process (sorry National Trust!)
I found my way back up to the church (which by now was open), had a look around, and went up to find my car again. It was as solitary as I had left it seven and a half hours ago. Hawker had made an impact. But not only him. This is an area with three churches and one football club. And they say Christianity is dead.

Started walking: 9.30am

Finished walking: 5.00pm

Places visited: 7: Crosstown (GR 208151), Morwenstow (206154), Gooseham (230164), Woolley (254166), Eastcott (252158), Shop (228148), Woodford (219134)

Total distance walked: 15 miles (six miles off-road, nine miles on-road)

Highest altitude: 226m (265154), near West Youlstone.

Altitude gained: 645m

Map used: OS explorer 126.

Interesting links:

http://www.atlantic-highway.co.uk/Villages/Morwenstow/Default.asp

http://www.morwenstow.freeserve.co.uk/Morwenstow/MStart.htm

http://www.morwenstowafc.co.uk/

http://www.northdevonfootballleague.org.uk/