Days 2 - Sea, tea and niggly knee

Bone Valley (Penzance) to Pengoon Farm - 22/5/08

I'm currently hiding in my tent so I thought I might as well crack on with the blog while I'm trapped. You might assume that I'm hiding from the rain but you'd be wrong (for a change). I'm in fact sheltering from the piercing gazes of the four toddlers from the pitch next to mine. They seem to have found something intensely fascinating about my visage and are content to stand in a silent huddle and stare at me. Finding this a touch on the creepy side, I've retreated to my sanctuary whilst they go and find another hiker to examine.

Unnverving children aside, how has the second day on the road gone I hear you ask? The succinct answer would be slightly schizophrenic I suppose. This morning, as I meandered along the winding coastal path from Penzance, I felt extremely privileged to be doing what I'm doing. On the flip side, after waiving goodbye to the sea (next time I see it will hopefully be in Scotland) and heading inland, it all fell apart and I found myself longing for the campsite well before it appeared.

The problem was not the change in scenery (though I am something of a fan of the sea), but rather the effect that the coastal path had had upon my right knee. It had started to niggle around lunchtime, but after a pit-stop in Marazion to fill up on Cream Tea (whilst in Rome etc), it seemed to have sorted itself out. It would appear, however, that it was merely shy and after an hour or two to bolster its courage, it returned to spend the day as an unwanted companion. It's not so bad that I struggle to walk, but it's irritating enough to be very hard to ignore as I trundle along. Ah well, no one said that this was going to be easy I suppose, and on the plus side I've got a rest day coming up the day after tomorrow so I can give it chance to mend a little.

For now though, I think I might brave a peek outside and see if my audience has dispersed. Mind you, it's a good incentive to get back on the trail and move on to a new site so that I can stop feeling like an exhibit.