Frank cooked breakfast; another fine cheese omelette but the kitchen became a little crowded and one or two of the other hostellers were a little peeved. While Frank cooked I went through the album that depicted the recent flood that tore the village apart. The pictures reflected the rebuilding of the place; nothing short of miraculous.
As we packed up to leave my glasses had disappeared. I had just about given up on them when Frank did one final search and discovered them under the table where we had eaten. The aforementioned hosteller had clearly knocked them on to the floor.
The route to Tintagel seemed to be far more strenuous than the described moderate but the views more than made up for the climbs. We saw an adder sunning itself on the path but the camera proved to be too slow to capture the moment and the quick glimpse of the weasel could never be snapped. We spent a little time among the ups and downs in Treborwithstrand – a beautiful place. Our destination of the day Port Isaac delivered us a rotten cup of tea, the sight of skinning tombing from the rocks! Argh! And the welcome sight of Mike King who took us on to the Youth Hostel beyond Padstow (Treyarnon). No, we weren’t cheating; we had to reschedule our walk. Tomorrow we would walk back to Port Isaac.
The car trip was a little fraught but finally we found our way there!
Hey ho!
Verdict: The worst cup of tea on the trip but the site of Mike King was breathtaking!
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