“Take the coastal path” it said. Sounds relaxing, doesn’t it? Well, after several hours’ worth of scrambling, slipping, sliding and clinging desperately to rocks, I can confirm that some routes marked out on The Ramblers’ Association mobile app are not for the fainthearted.
It was meant to be a pleasant coastal walk, a 7-mile round trip from St Ives. What could possibly go wrong? Surely, an association notoriously frequented by what Gregg Wallace would call “middle class women of a certain age” is unlikely to plot a route more suitable for experienced rock climbers? Well, you’d be surprised. There were times when I had visions of my husband and I having to call the coastguard, so ridiculously challenging was the route. I was gripped by paranoia that one of us would twist an ankle and end up having to call for help and be helicoptered off the cliff face at enormous expense and hideous embarassment.
There were no warnings whatsoever that the route would be treacherous. The closest we got to any kind of indication that things would get rocky was when the instructions mentioned that the path would no longer be tarmac beyond the touristy section of the route – in other words, the promenade would turn into a normal coastal path once you left the beach area. Well, duh. We weren’t expecting the entire route to be wheelchair-friendly, obviously. However, we also weren’t expecting to be squinting up a sheer cliff face and debating whether this actually was the “path” or whether we were on some kind of reality TV show hosted by Bear Grylls and designed to see exactly how long it takes to break the spirit of the urbanised general public when they’re taken out of their comfort zone.
Fortunately (and eventually) we managed to complete the route without incident, although we did witness a member of another group falling several feet into a crevice. Miraculously, she was fine: no intervention required. But honest to God, if someone had sprained an ankle on that so-called path – something which would have been all too easy to do – there was no way they would have made it off the cliffside without a lot of volunteers in high-vis protective suits and an air ambulance. While I’m all for new experiences, swinging freely from a winch attached to a helicopter is not actually on my bucket list.
The whole thing got me thinking about whether or not it is a good thing to not know what you’re getting yourself into sometimes. Had my husband and I been aware of exactly how treacherous the coastal path would turn out to be, we never would have embarked upon the walk. So, I bet you’re expecting me to say that it was great that we were duped into what turned out to be a challenging but ultimately inspiring experience? That I feel overjoyed that we conquered the treacherous path and witnessed stunning sights, reserved only for the hail and hearty? To be honest, that isn’t how I feel.
It wasn’t much of a walk: it was more of a scramble. Yes, we did manage it, and of course there is a certain degree of satisfaction in completing any challenge. Yet, on balance, I just feel like a bit of an idiot. We really were not kitted out for the experience. We could have done with walking poles and I could have done with better footwear. Even with proper equipment, I still question whether the whole experience would have been worth it. The ground was so dangerous that – as people unused to such terrain – we had no choice but to keep our eyes glued to our own feet, meaning that the glorious views were completely lost to us for much of the time. So, while I don’t exactly regret the experience, I also don’t particularly find it something to celebrate. Risking serious injury in a remote location for a view that you can’t look at because you’re so focused on your attempts to avoid said injury just seems a bit of a daft way to spend a sunny afternoon.
