Monday 12th July

 

Nice breakfast, although the waitress was somewhat ‘in your face’. “You wait your turn” she barks., “There’s others before you”.

 

Breakfast is all we ever see of the Deck restaurant.  It is fully booked out for the entire fortnight.  As we soon discover, that’s true of everything in Bude/Cornwall in this strange Covid summer.

 

Our first objective is to do Harland Quay to Morwenstow – the section we should have done last October.  We set off in convoy behind Tim in a taxi.  Chris is in the taxi, I drive behind.  I listen to Five Live and it’s shocking.  The three penalty takers who missed are being showered with abuse on social media.  They are all black and it’s horrible racist stuff.  A Rashford mural in Manchester has been defaced. 

England – heroes for reaching the Euros final?  England a racist cesspit?  You choose. [it later turns out that the majority of the racist social media stuff came from abroad, mainly America]. And there is more.  Drunken mobs stormed Wembley terrorising families with tickets.  Stewards were accepting bribes to open the gates.

 

We drop our car at Morwenstow and drive on to Hartland Quay.  It turns out that Tim was a bus driver.  Through most of the lockdown he drove a bus with no one in it.  The fare is £45.  He tells us that the Hartland to Bude section is reckoned to be the toughest on the entire path.  All taxi drivers say this.  None of them have ever set foot on it.  They are just reporting what they hear when they pick up exhausted walkers.

But in this case, he is not wrong, especially the section to Morwenstow.  There are five steep ascents, totalling 4,500 feet.  Some of the bits of the path are distinctly precarious.  Wimping out on that wet and windy day in October was a good call.  We are not yet very fit, and we are knackered by the time we get to the car at Morwenstow church.  And so are my boots.  Finally, sadly after so many miles, it’s the end for them.  I sort of knew they were expiring and so I have brought my summer lightweights.  The weather has perked up and all will be well.  It just remains to bring the poor old hikers back to Hampton Hill for a decent and reverent disposal.

 

We poke about in Ronald Duncan’s writing hut.  He is a much forgotten second rank poet of the mid-20th century.  One little poem catches my eye:

 

THE HORSE

Where in this wide world can
man find nobility without pride,
friendship without envy or beauty
without vanity? Here, where
grace is laced with muscle, and
strength by gentleness confined.

He serves without servility; he has
fought without enmity. There is
nothing so powerful, nothing less
violent, there is nothing so quick,
nothing more patient.

England’s past has been borne on
his back. All our history is his
industry; we are his heirs; he
our inheritance.

– Ronald Duncan (1954) (lived 1914-1982)

It’s a nice little verse, but He, his? OK in 1954.  Wouldn’t get away with it in our woke era.

And then, we are in Cornwall.  Yay! Finally!  It feels like a destination.  It is a destination – but Cornwall is long – so long.

 

Back in Bude, Chris has parleyed a table at the Bencoollen pub. The dialogue with the waiter goes like this

 Me:  Are there any specials?

Waiter: Yes

Me: can you tell me what they are, please?

Waiter: No.  They are on the board

Me:  Where is the board?

Waiter:  It’s out the front

Me: Could you look for us?

Waiter:  Not really

 I settle for fish and chips.  Chris has a fish platter. Bill is £37.  It seems OK for me, but Chris has taken against the Bencoolen.

“It’s an old geezer’s drinking pub”

“And what’s wrong with old geezers, exactly?”

“And there’s a pool table”

She is immovable and we cancel our booking for tomorrow.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Monday 16th September