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Day 4 Tues 03-05-2005

Truro to Rutherenbridge

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I slept well, and ate a delicious fried breakfast – a bit of a relief, really, as I couldn't keep walking and not eating. I wanted to lose weight on this walk, but gradually! The owner chatted to me and found out where I was heading. He has seen a lot of "end to enders" passing through.

I started walking at 8 a.m. It took a while to get out of Truro, tiny though it is, and then I walked through delightful sunken lanes, with masses of wild flowers up the banks. Walking into Trispen, I passed the time of day with a man walking his dog. We chatted, and he asked me if I would like a cup of tea. This is what I thought the walk would be all about! Meeting new people, chatting, sharing experiences.

"I'm off down the beach this afternoon," said my new friend, as we walked together.
"Oh really," I replied.
"Yes, I'm a naturist."
"Is that someone who takes all their clothes off?"
"Yes. I usually undress at my home too."
"I'm not sure I've got time for a cuppa"
"Was it something I said?"

I'm all for new experiences, but not quite ready for that. If you are that charming man and reading this, you might want to withhold the naturist information a little longer if you're chatting to new people...

At lunchtime I passed the Blue Anchor at Indian Queens. They served a mean pint, and a delicious bowl of vegetable soup. Thankfully I felt a bit hungry. Ken phoned me, to tell me that the Southampton v Norwich City game was fantastic – “The best ever." Henri Camara scored late on in a frenetic game for the Saints to win 4-3 ! We are avid Saints fans, and I would have been at that game, if I weren't walking. Tina went to the footie in my place, had a bet on the result – and she WON! Talk about beginners luck. (Part of the ritual of going to watch the Saints is having a little bet at the ground – and losing). As Ken rubbed this in, I asked him how work was, just to get even.

Leaving Indian Queens, the views opened up. The land was getting higher as I headed toward Bodmin moor, and there were lovely views over hills and valleys, full of patchwork fields. I walked past tiny villages: Treliver, Tregollis, and Tregustick. Aparently "Tre" is a Cornish prefix for village or homestead. Some workmen repairing a bridge gave me a sample of Cornish humour:
"Walked far then?"
"Yes, from Truro!" (proudly - it must have been about twenty miles)
"Stop for a kip, then?"
That took the wind out of my sails!

Early in the evening, I arrived at a campsite in Ruthernbridge. Just before I got there, I passed a trio of local ladies chatting.
"Walking Land's End to John O'Groats, are you?" called one.
Is it tattooed on my forehead?? How did she know? I kept them guessing, and rang the bell at the campsite shop.

It was a very upmarket campsite, and the friendly owner sold me a tin of baked beans from his well stocked shop. He told me a tale of being on a boat when he was reduced to cold beans, as rations ran out.

Tent up, shower, cold beans, Chelsea v Liverpool second leg on my tiny radio, another swallow of Lesley's scotch, and, I hoped, a good night's sleep.

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