South West Coast Path – Day 35
St Mawes (Falmouth) – Portloe
25 September 2025
Distance on Coast Path: 22.7km; ascent: 331m
Total distance: 23.4km; ascent: 375m
Walking time: 5h 52′
Total time: 7h 52′
Overnight: Jen’s B&B, Portloe
Logistics: By train to Truro, route 50 bus to St Mawes, overnight at Ship & Castle.
To start the next section of the Coast Path I reached St Mawes not by ferry from Falmouth but by bus from Truro – a long roundabout journey through the attractive and isolated Roseland Peninsula. The harbour jetty was a few steps from my overnight hotel: I found the small hut which was the combined office, storeroom and operations centre of the other ferry, the Place ferry (yes, it goes to a place called Place). A notice on the hut confirmed what I’d read earlier, that the first ferry would leave at 9.15 in the morning.
It was sunny and still a bit chilly as I was first to arrive on the quayside at 9.00, but I needn’t have worried about missing the boat: only three other passengers had turned up by the time we were called aboard for the five minute trip to the far side of the Percuil River. I scrambled off the jetty and onto the Coast Path, and started my tracker ready for the day’s walk.
The Path goes behind the impressive but very private-looking Place House and passes the church of St Anthony before heading out to the lighthouse on St Anthony’s Head. A kilometre further, and five kilometres into the walk, you have almost closed a loop and are only a few hundred metres from where you started.
The next hour or so was on one of the easiest sections of the Path so far. Open green fields with gentle gradients gave clear views of the coastline and sea. The sun was shining, the air was warming, and there was the lightest of breezes. It occurred to me that this was probably what most of the people who had read “The Salt Path” and who set off enthusiastically from Minehead imagined it would be like before they faced the reality of the rugged and often strenuous Path with its endless series of steep climbs and descents.
An hour later at Porthcurnick Beach, the far end of Portscatho’s bay, I looked back to take a photo. The early autumn sun was reflected off the sea as it had been all morning, not in a narrow path of sunlight but in a broad sweep of silver. This silver sunlight became a theme of this section of my Coast Path walk and never failed to keep my spirits high.
The second part of the day’s walk was much tougher, with plenty of ups and downs as far as Nare Head, with the off-puttingly named Tregagle’s Hole being particularly vicious. The terrain didn’t get much easier for the rest of the way to Portloe – another small fishing village tucked out of sight until you’re on top of it. A steep descent to the road and a tiring slog up the road on the far side finally got me to my B&B as the light started to fade.
Jen’s B&B, and Jen herself, were welcoming and friendly. Jen, now widowed, was born in Portloe and had lived there all her life; the fourth generation of her family to live in the village.
As dusk fell I walked back down the hill to The Ship for a meal. The only other option would have been The Lugger, an up-market hotel whose guests who are willing to pay far more for food and accommodation than I am. Jen had warned me that The Ship’s food offer was limited as in less than two weeks’ time it was being closed by the St Austell Brewery: the locals are hoping to keep it going as a Community Pub, and I hope they’re successful. After failing to finish my large portion of fish and chips I trudged back up the hill in the dark and was soon in bed.



