Grandma Goes Coastal: A ferry tale

To begin the walk from Falmouth, you have to get to a place called Place (honest)! Before you can get to Place, you have to take a ferry twenty minutes to St. Mawes whence you take another very little ferry for about five minutes to the place called Place. Then you begin to walk to St. Anthony's Head, which is not the same St. Anthony's where there was the church that lined you up with crossing Gillan Stream. Well, yes, the same saint, but not the same location. Anyway, looking at some web site the night prior, I read that for the next four days there would be no ferry to Place due to the vagaries of the tides—don't ask—that is what it said.

A choice: 1) Walk at least two hours on muddy, unmarked paths around the estuary or 2) arrange for a taxi to pick you up in St. Mawes to drive you to Place. Out of desperation, I did the latter. The day without the extra two-hours-at-least was already 14 miles (15 according to my calculations).

Couldn't sleep, of course, worrying about ferries, taxis, and getting to Place, so up at 5:30, which was ridiculous because the one ferry that was running didn't leave until 8:30. Go down to the pier, which seemed remarkably deserted only to discover that the ferry to St. Mawes had been cancelled, as well.

Not a choice: phone ferry taxi service. "Can you take me from Falmouth to Place?". "Yes, but it will take an hour to get to Falmouth. And it is an open boat so you will get wet" "OK." (I am prepared with rain gear that the marines would envy.)

The guy showed up in this cute, little, orange and black inflated raft kind of boat 40 minutes later and whisked me to the place called Place for an agreed upon fee only he did not have change, so he got a nice tip!

Started walking in the rain just before 10:00 (so not my M.O.) and staggered into Portloe at 5:00, quite worn out.

Hung out to dry: