Day 30. Falmouth to Portloe, 7 September 2025.

 I checked the ferry website before breakfast but it was still not clear whether it was running. As I left the B&B I fell in step with a lady who had also stayed there and was walking the coast path, so we chatted away while walking to the ferry pier. The wind was not quite as strong as yesterday but there was no sign of a ferry and we were told that it might (or might not!) be sailing in two hours time at 11 am. 

We both had accomodation booked at Portloe at the other end of 23 km of walking, the second half of which was graded strenuous. And Alex was using a baggage transfer service so that her luggage was being taken to Portloe. What to do? In the town square we approached a waiting taxi driver to if he would take us to St Mawes. We settled on £60. The driver was a very friendly bloke and he filled us in on all the local gossip as he took us over the King Harry Ferry across the River Fal (a chain ferry 8 km inland from Falmouth, so not subject to high winds) and down to St Mawes. 

While we were waiting for the ferry the heavens opened to give a storm of biblical proportions. We were glad not to be out in that, but by the time we got to St Mawes the rain had reduced to a light drizzle. Here we needed to take another much shorter ferry crossing to the other side of the Percuil River and a place called Place. Fortunately this ferry - just a small dinghy - was running and we were soon dropped off at Place (which was just a large house and a church) around 10.45.

 

 

The weather improved to give a bright sunny afternoon and made for a fine walk along the Roseland peninsular, past Portscatho and on to Nare Head. Along the way we caught up with a couple who had stayed overnight in St Mawes, caught an early ferry to Place and had been out in the biblical storm. Maybe our enforced taxi ride did have its advantages. 

Alex and I found that we were walking at about the same pace and after doing most of the path on my own it was nice to have company for a change. This photo was taken approaching Portloe and journey's end.

 

Portloe is a quintessential Cornish fishing village, with whitewashed stone cottages in a narrow valley behind a small harbour. The white building left of centre of the lower photo is the Lugger hotel where I was staying, a bit upmarket from my usual coast path accomodation but well worth it. I made myself a pot of tea and relaxed in a huge bath.

 Alex was staying in a pub at the other end of the village so I joined her for dinner before walking back to the hotel and watching a lunar eclipse over the harbour.

  Distance today, 24 km.