After yet more rain, a glorious spring day. I walk a section of the coast path a bit further south than my usual route, but not as far south as Godrevy. My main reason for choosing this area is not the unbelieveably turquoise sea or the razorbills, fulmars and kittiwakes nesting on ledges on the cliffs but that I shall pass the cafe at Hell's Mouth and shall be able to indulge in a cream tea. Hell's Mouth lives up to its name by being a popular suicide spot and the scene of a shipwreck at night a few years ago when a member of the crew drowned in the boiling, black sea when he fell out of the strop lifting him into the rescue helicopter. Some of the jagged metal remains of the ship are still visible at times. Do the tourists sitting in the sunshine outside the cafe realise what a dark place this is?
Heather Hosking
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