So at this point we have walked a further 77 miles along the SWCP since we left Gabe's house in Mullion.
Body is holding up well again. I experienced such great health benefits last time I walked for long distances but I guess I can't be completely sure that it wasn't just coincidental. I'm applying the scientific method right now and attempting to reproduce the results before I can claim it as a proven fact. I did visit the foot doctor (the one that told me I wouldn't be able to walk) on returning home last time and in-between gloating about my achievements, I asked for another cat scan. He said that unless my feet felt significantly worse, there wasn't much point. I told him that he misunderstood, I wanted a cat scan so I could see the improvements. He told me that improvement was impossible. I wanted to argue but decided why expose myself to extra radiation just to prove a point that I already knew? This time around my ankle is in better shape and after the initial few days of weirdness, it's not really bothering me. My toes however have got worse over the last couple of years and are giving me some grief. I have real problems on hills that slope down to the right which is a little difficult to avoid walking west to east on the coast path. I hope this experiment will eventually prove my theory that building muscle is imperative for good joint health. It should be considered as a prescription before pharmaceuticals - just as I feel weight loss should. I can feel my muscles at work now and it's taking the strain off my joints. No migraines yet either and I was getting them almost daily before I left.
We have continued to be lucky with the weather which has been mostly overcast but there has been a couple of sunny days, one drizzly and only one very rainy day in Falmouth when we were having a rest day in the hostel, so it didn't matter. Lucky too that on the drizzly day out at Nairn point, the fog lifted just in time for Curt and I to realise we were about to step right off the cliff edge.
We have done a couple of wild camps out on the path, camped in a kind of hippie commune in Lizard, stayed in a fantastic youth hostel at Coverack, spent a couple of nights at the backpacker hostel in Falmouth and now in a B&B in Charlestown.
The trail has been varied. In parts it's been boggy and overgrown. Of late it's been wild and rugged, dipping down steeply into remote coves and then ascending steeply back up to the top of the cliffs. Under the gnarly, enduring trees of the wooded areas, blue bells and wild garlic are blooming. Sleepy cornish fishing hamlets nestle in the coves, steeped in history and stunningly beautiful in their simplicity. White washed walls on timeless cottages bear thatched roofs from which smoke still wafts.
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