Synopsis: My homage to Daphne du Maurier. After having recently read several of Daphne’s books I decided I should revisit her old stomping ground. A gorgeous hot October day.
(selection of photos from Flickr photo set – use link above to view album)
Dawlish (from the train)
I was up at 5am for today’s walk. It’s been sometime since I last acted quite so recklessly. Perhaps it was time I put myself out and made more of an effort. I boarded the 6:56 train out of Exeter St David’s just as daylight was emerging. It’s actually quite lovely to be out and about as the day dawns. The light is marvellous, and it gives one a real sense of readiness to make the most of the new day.
Par Sands
I arrived punctually at Par station at 9:10am. Within just 20 minutes I was walking, along with numerous dog walkers, through the sand dunes of Par Sands. It was nice to discover wild flower colour at this time of year, in the form of Evening Primrose (completely unaware it was morning) and Dog Rose, growing amidst the Marram Grass of the dunes.
Par Sands
There is quite a large car park at the eastern end of Par Sands from which there is a footbridge over a little stream and steps that took me up onto the coast path. I was soon walking past Little Hell (you’ve probably just come from Big Hell) with the long straight run (euphemistic?) to The Gribbin clearly visible ahead of me. Daphne du Maurier spent her final years at Kilmarth House just a short walk inland from here.
Polkerris
The tiny village of Polkerris crept up on me rather unexpectedly, in that it lies tucked away in a steep sided valley and is not visible until you’re nearly upon the village. A steep descent down a zig-zag path dropped me amongst the few houses, from where I strolled out onto the beach. A small wind-surfing class was receiving tuition on the beach (there was no wind).
Approaching The Gribbin
My walk along the cliff edge hugging coastal path was damp underfoot from the early morning dew that gave the fields a silvery sheen. The air, initially fresh, was already beginning to warm. Wispy clouds drifted across the sky providing little shade from the sun. Footpath diversions guided me safely around a number of landslips, the previous winter having taken its toll on the cliffs of the south west.
The Gribbin (Gribbin Head) - the daymark
At The Gribbin there stands a 26 metre tall tower named the Daymark, built in 1832 by Trinity House (the lighthouse and lightship authority) to enable sailors to distinguish The Gribbin from other South Cornish headlands. Today it probably does greater service to the walking community, the sight of which instilling little doubt about one’s location.
The Gribbin (Gribbin Head) – view of Polridmouth Cove
From The Gribbin I looked down on Polridmouth Cove and decided to make that my lunch stop. I arrived at the cove at 11:50am feeling hungry after my long morning. I chose a spot to sit on the rocks amongst the Samphire from where I looked out to sea as I ate my lunch, wondering whether Daphne might not have once sat here mulling over the plot to Rebecca. It would be hard to imagine a more idyllic setting.
The mouth of the River Fowey
It was actually very hot picnicking at Polridmouth Cove and so I decided to be on my way as soon as I’d eaten my fill, in the hope that there might be more of a breeze up on the cliffs. A sizeable ship, possibly loaded with china clay, sailed seaward from the mouth of the River Fowey as I walked along the cliff top.
Bright red berries, but of what?
My guide book mentioned Sea Buckthorn which it described as ‘a prickly shrub with orange berries in autumn’. I was keeping an eye out for this when I thought I had spotted this specimen in the hedgerow as I approached Readymoney Cove (I like that name). In retrospect, I suspect this isn’t Sea Buckthorn, but quite what it is, I can’t say.
I had just begun my descent towards Readymoney Cove when I caught sight of a sign indicating St Catherine’s Castle off to my right. St Catherine’s was built as a small artillery fort by Henry VIII in the 1530s. It’s easily accessible from the coast path and there’s no charge to visit. Worth a little detour in particular to appreciate its vantage point.
Fowey to the left, Polruan to the right, with St Catherine's Castle in the foreground
Readymoney Cove
Readymoney Cove is a pretty place dominated by an Italianesque building on its northern corner. This is probably Fowey’s best beach, small though it is. I suspect it is a good deal busier during peak-season summer days, whereas today it was quiet and tranquil.
Fowey
But little time to linger. Onwards I trekked, the short distance up and around the bluff and down into Fowey itself. I arrived at 13:40, which was earlier than I had expected. This allowed me plenty of time to explore Fowey at my leisure.
Fowey - Church of St Fimbarrus or St Nicholas - Rashleigh memorial
One last visit I made today, and that was to the Church of St Fimbarrus or St Nicholas (Listed Grade I). If there was ever any doubt about the significance of the Rashleigh family in this area, a visit to this church would soon dispel such a notion. The large Menabilly house and estate, where Daphne du Maurier and her family once lived, has been in the Rashleigh family for many centuries, and remains in their ownership to this day. Another interesting aspect of this church is the fact that it has a clerestory, very unusual in a Cornish church. And I found the porch interesting too, as it’s a double storey porch, which aren’t very common.
It was a long day, but as I was travelling by train I was able to use much of my journeying time for reading, which is a good deal more profitable than being sat behind the wheel of a car. All journeys today, by train and bus, were punctual and efficient. The walking was brilliant, and I returned home feeling well exercised, but very relaxed. It had been a great way to spend the day.
Footnote (1): My guide book mentioned the following: “In 1469 John Wilcock, a local captain, captured fifteen ships off the Brittany coast in a fortnight. This lawlessness embarrassed Edward IV as he had just made peace with the French, so he sent a messenger to Fowey to tell the inhabitants to desist. The hapless emissary was sent back minus an ear.” The Cornish always were a belligerent and unruly lot, and I’ve a sneaking feeling that would have been something that Daphne du Maurier would have readily associated with.
The real ghost of Manderley -
© The Telegraph
Footnote (2): So, how did I come to be reading so much du Maurier? Well, it all started with this photo of Daphne standing on the stairs of her one-time home, Menabilly. I found it an arresting picture, so I read the story The Real Ghost of Manderley, which is a piece written by the author Justine Picardie who has written a fictionalised account of Daphne’s later life simply entitled Daphne. I was intrigued enough to attempt to search out the book, which I could only find in audiobook form at a nearby library. I gave it a spin. It made me realise what a complex person Daphne was, someone not at all easy to pigeonhole. I then read Myself When Young, followed by The Loving Spirit (her first book, written at Ferryside, Fowey). And followed that up with My Cousin Rachel. So, as you see, I’ve taken a fair old sampling of Daphne just recently, and thought I’d conclude this little du Maurier chapter of mine with a visit to Fowey, in many respects her heartland. Daphne’s ashes are scattered on the cliffs nearby. To my mind Daphne was a consummate story teller, perhaps something that stemmed from her theatrical upbringing. (Daphne)
Walk Statistics:
Total Distance: 8.3 miles
Moving Time: 3hrs 11min
Stopped Time: 59min
Total Ascent: 417 metres
Maximum Elevation: 78 metres
Buses: Western Greyhound 525 (Fowey to Par: £3.30)
Trains: Digby & Sowton to Par (Off-peak day return: £17.50)
