Land’s End to Mousehole: South West Coast Path Day 24 Guide

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After a pretty good sleep despite the wind and rain that came and went all night, I packed up under cloudy skies and headed off in the wrong direction. For once that was a deliberate choice instead of my usual lack of navigation skills: the best place for breakfast looked to be just up the road.

Greeted by a friendly owner and her even friendlier dog, TJ’s was exactly the sort of cafe I wished I could have found every day on this walk. My breakfast bap was not only tasty, it was so huge that I couldn’t finish it: a sheet of tinfoil magically appeared from the kitchen so I could take the rest with me for lunch.

When I finally managed to muster up the motivation to get going, I somehow walked out without my cap. 30 seconds later, a shout from behind me stopped me in my tracks: the owner was jogging down the footpath towards me to give it back. Bless her heart.

Even though it was nowhere near as sunny as the day before, I enjoyed Land’s End much more the second time around. That’s almost certainly because nothing was open yet, so there were only a few people milling around instead of yesterday’s crowds.

After stopping to admire a small group of arriving cyclists who’d apparently started in John O’Groats, and taking a few selfies at the signpost, I turned east towards the first glimpses of sunshine through the clouds and set off. Hint: if you, like me, don’t want to pay to have your photo taken at the sign, arrive before the photographer shows up at 10 a.m.

Just like arriving from the other direction, there’s a maze of different paths leading east along the coast from Land’s End. With the help of my phone map and sporadic waymarkers, I navigated the detours at Greeb Farm and stuck to the official trail, but if you don’t care as much as I do about being on the “correct” path, any of them will get you to the same place in the end.

There was a lot more granite on this part of the coast than I’d seen before, in the form of both boulders alongside the trail and jagged, towering cliffs below. A sign on a rock proudly proclaimed the presence of an Iron Age field system: I’m pleased it let me know about it, else I’d have just assumed it was a farmer’s paddock like any other. I sure couldn’t tell the difference.

The campsite owner the night before had told me to make sure I stopped at Nanjizal Bay, about an hour from Land’s End. People come from all over the world to visit, I was told, but a lot of walkers miss it because it doesn’t look like much from the trail.

To be honest, near high tide on a gloomy morning it didn’t look like much from the beach either, but I suspect it’s a different story at other times. The golden sand was completely covered by the ocean when I was there, as was the base of the Song of the Sea rock archway. The wind “sings” through the archway when it’s blowing from the right direction, but it stayed resolutely silent today.

Still, the small waterfalls were flowing and I didn’t roll an ankle on the large, smooth rocks while I explored, so I’m still going to call that a win.

From the bay, the path immediately headed steeply up some steps back onto the cliffs. Enjoying my walk and not looking at my map, it was shortly after this that I missed an unmarked turnoff onto a narrow path around the headland, and stayed on the wider inland trail instead. Oops.

In the end it didn’t matter: I realised shortly afterward and was able to cut back along a lane to rejoin the official path at the Coastwatch station, only adding a small amount of extra distance. Waving to the volunteers on duty, I continued on past what looked for all the world like a massive traffic cone, but was apparently one of the Gwennap Head daymarks that warns passing ships of a nearby reef.

I was ready for a second coffee by this point, so was very happy to see a small queue of people outside the Porthgwarra Cafe as I descended sharply into this cute little hamlet. The sun had made a timely appearance, so I sat out of the wind in the back garden with my flat white and chocolate brownie for a lot longer than was strictly necessary as I enjoyed the warmth.

Passing the small stony beach with a narrow passage through the cliff alongside, I started working off the calories from my elevenses straight away. The path climbed steeply past a few cottages back up to the top of the cliffs, but it didn’t stay there for long, dropping into and out of Porthchapel Beach shortly afterward.

The trail then passed the Minack Theatre, a famous open-air clifftop ampitheatre built by hand from the 1930s onward. I was lucky enough to go to a performance here a few years ago and loved it: this time around, I mostly got to admire the carpark. There’s no real view of the theatre itself from the path, sadly.

Signs warned of a steep and slippery descent down the switchbacks on the other side: it was certainly steep, but at least in dry weather, didn’t feel particularly sketchy. I’d tackled worse in the last few weeks, put it that way.

Porthcurno Beach looked an absolute treat, with clear sparkling water and bright golden sand that was almost glowing in the sunlight. The path led around the back of the beach and up the other side, and the temptation to just go lie on the sand for the rest of the day instead of tackling what lay ahead was…quite high.

Back up on the cliffs, I stopped to read the plaque on a squat, white stone pyramid, and discovered that it was a memorial marker for the hut that housed the first telegraph cable linking the UK to the Americas. There’s a communications museum in Porthcurno with much more detail, if this is something you’re particularly interested in.

With ever-increasing blue sky and stunning views of coves and headlands all along the coast, the next few miles were my favourite part of the day. There were even a few relatively flat sections, although they never lasted all that long: there was always another bay to descend into just around the corner.

The prettiest of those was Penberth Cove, a tiny hamlet with colourful fishing vessels pulled up at the top of the steep stone boat ramp and fishermen working on their nets in the shade of a nearby building.

One of them half-raised his hand in greeting as I passed. “Nice day for it”, he muttered in my direction. By “it”, I assume he meant climbing yet another set of rough steps, since that’s what lay in store directly ahead. I mean, of course it did.

Strolling along the narrow dirt track up on the cliffs shortly after, I was making good pace when I felt a slight tug. Assuming it was just a blackberry branch catching on my backpack, I almost didn’t bother looking back, but I’m glad I did.

With the overnight rain recently, my clothes hadn’t been drying by the next morning, so I’d taken to hanging them off my pack while I walked. That’s why, when I turned my head, a bright red pair of underwear was hanging neatly over the trail, as if I’d deliberately placed it there to signal some sort of danger.

The only danger right now, though, was only having a single set of underwear for the next four weeks.

I caught up with a couple of walkers further along the cliffs; other than those fishermen at Penberth Cove, they were the first people I’d seen since Porthcurno. As it turned out, I’d leapfrog these two for the rest of the day: every time one of us stopped, the other(s) would pass them, all the way to Mousehole.

After a steep drop and particularly gut-busting climb shortly after, the trail headed inland for a short while before descending again, through a lush, wooded valley that felt very different to everything else I’d walked through today.

At the bottom of the valley the track continued straight along a boulder-covered beach at St Loy’s Cove; three other walkers were sitting there having lunch, including the couple I’d passed just before, which was all the excuse I needed to pull out my foil-covered leftovers and do the same.

The wind was doing a good job of putting the sand in my sandwich, but even so, never before has cold bacon, egg, and hash brown tasted so good.

Leaving the beach at the other end to climb up onto the cliffs yet again, I stopped briefly at a memorial to a lifeboat disaster in 1981 that claimed 16 lives in the ocean below, then passed just above the Tater-du lighthouse.

It wasn’t far on the map from here to Lamorna Cove, but the guidebook had warned of “slow going”, and it wasn’t kidding. Rough, stony trails and large rockfalls that required more scrambling than walking slowed my pace to a crawl, and I was more than ready for a break by the time I finally stopped for a Coke at the little cafe beside the beach.

There were a few more people around on the final 2.5 miles into Mousehole, along a still-rocky but generally much better path the whole way. Even in my tired state, the place couldn’t fail to impress: it really is a seriously pretty village, especially along the harbour but also in the myriad little laneways that lead off it.

As glad as I was to have arrived in Mousehole, my day was sadly not yet done: the campsite I was aiming for was still a 20-minute walk inland. If I’d learned one thing on this walk, it’s that inland almost always means uphill, and today was no exception. It’s rare that I need to use two hiking poles to get me up a paved tarmac road, but Mousehole Lane managed it.

The campsite was in the village of Paul, on the grounds of Mousehole AFC. No, not on the football pitch itself, but in a grassy field alongside, with showers and toilets in the changing rooms. It’s a simple setup, but it works, aided by two of the friendliest and most generous campsite managers I met on this entire walk. Much more on that below.

Dinner that night was an easy choice: the King’s Arms is the only pub in Paul, and it’s a good one. The place was very popular with visitors and locals alike, one of whom looked me up and down and then asked if the rolled-up rain jacket I was carrying was in fact a haggis.

It takes all sorts, I guess.

Planning

Started at: Land’s End Camping and Glamping (0.9 miles/1.5km off-trail)

Finished at: Mousehole Camping (0.9 miles/1.5km off-trail, up a steep hill)

By most measures, I shouldn’t have liked Mousehole Camping anywhere near as much as I did. To start with it’s nearly a mile off the trail, up a ridiculously steep hill. It’s a bit of a walk from the camping field to the showers and toilets in the football club changing rooms, and those facilities are pretty basic; there’s not much in the way of privacy when you’re showering either.

Even so, I really enjoyed my time there, and it was all down to two of the most the friendly, helpful, and generous campsite managers I’ve ever met. From the moment I walked in they couldn’t do enough to help, pointing out the flattest and most sheltered spot to pitch the tent and offering to charge my devices.

We chatted for ages about the walk and life in general, and when I got back from dinner at the pub, they waved me over as I headed towards my tent. The overnight forecast looked awful, with heavy rain and strong winds for several hours, and they’d decided that I simply shouldn’t be sleeping in a tent in those conditions.

They both insisted that I stay in their spare campervan instead; they weren’t using it, and it would be a hell of a lot drier and quieter than the inside of my tent. I weakly protested, but not for long: the offer of a bed, coffee and tea, and walls that didn’t flap in the wind was too good to pass up.

In the end, the storm was just as bad as predicted, and as I listened to the wind howl and rain hammer down, I was extremely glad to be indoors that night. Leaving the next morning, I offered to pay extra for the accommodation upgrade, but they wouldn’t have a bar of it, instead just wishing me luck for the rest of the walk and sending me on my way. Legends!

My pitch cost £10 for the night, and I pretty much had my choice of where to set up: now that school holidays had finished, there were only a few other people staying there.

Transport and Parking

Public transport for this section of the walk does exist, but just like the day before, it probably doesn’t go exactly where you want it to.

Your best option is probably the 1 or 1A bus, which runs between Land’s End and close to Paul, the village where I spent the night. From there, you’ve got the same steep hill to deal with to get to Mousehole, although at least you’ll be walking/jogging down it if you’re going in this direction.

Other than one early morning service that goes into Paul, you’ll need to get dropped off at “Long Row” on the B3315. From there, it’s just over a mile to walk to Mousehole. These services run every two hours Monday through Saturday, and every three hours on Sundays.

The 1 also goes via Porthcurno, making it relatively straightforward to have a shorter day if you want one.

If you’re looking for somewhere to leave your car, there’s a large carpark at Land’s End that costs £7.50 for anywhere between 20 minutes and the entire day. There’s also a small pay and display carpark beside the cafe and toilets in Porthgwarra, a grassy field belonging to the church in Porthchapel with cheap all-day parking, and a good-sized carpark in Porthcurno.

There’s an expensive, coin-only carpark at Lamorna Cove that I’d personally avoid, and three small carparks in Mousehole. Again, have coins with you: there’s minimal phone signal to use the parking apps and some of the machines don’t take cards either.

There isn’t a parking lot in Paul, so if you’re catching the bus to/from there, you’ll need to try your luck with the limited on-street parking on some of the side streets.

Waymarking and Navigation

Other than the wrong turn near the Coastwatch station that I mentioned earlier, I didn’t have many other problems with navigation on this section. Just note that there are several parallel trails heading east from Land’s End, with at least one detour in place when I was there just to add to the fun, so keep an eye on your map and the occasional waymarkers.

I used AllTrails as my main navigation app for the entire South West Coast Path, and it worked well throughout. The Land’s End to Mousehole section is here. The app is free to use, although I pay a couple of pounds a month for a subscription so I can download maps to my phone in advance.

Phone Service

Phone service was relatively poor with O2 today, at least after leaving Land’s End. There generally wasn’t a lot of signal for large chunks of the day, although it was more likely to exist when I was up on the cliffs than when I was down at any of the coves or beaches. There was minimal service in Mousehole, but it was better in Paul, probably because it’s higher up.

As a backup, I’d also paid a few pounds for a data eSIM from Instabridge that let me swap between all three UK networks, EE, O2, and Vodafone/Three. It worked well as a fallback option all along the Coast Path: if I didn’t have service with my usual provider (O2), I’d just switch to another. As long as there were any mobile phone towers in range, I’d have service.

Facilities

If you’re staying at the same campsite I did, TJ’s cafe just up the road is the ideal place for breakfast. It’s a lot better than anything at Land’s End, that’s for sure, assuming those places are even open when you’re looking to eat.

I enjoyed my coffee and brownie at Porthgwarra; it’s a good place for refreshments, but not somewhere you’re going to get a full meal. For that you’ll need to wait until you get to Porthcurno, either the cafe at the Minack Theatre or one of the two cafe options in the village itself, just back from the beach.

There’s nothing after that until you get to Lamorna Cove, where the cafe beside the beach does full meals until mid-afternoon, as well as snacks and refreshments for a bit longer. There’s also a pub, the Lamorna Wink, in the village itself; you’ll need to walk a little way inland from the trail to find it.

Mousehole has more than enough cafes, pubs and restaurants to keep you fed and watered, and my Thai curry at the King’s Arms in Paul was one of the better pub meals I had anywhere on the Coast Path.

Accommodation

After leaving Land’s End, the first campsite you’ll come across is Treen Farm, just inland from the trail after leaving Porthcurno. I seriously considered staying here to break my longer day into two short ones: it looks good, has cheaper rates for walkers and doesn’t take bookings so you’re almost guaranteed a spot, and there’s a pub just up the road for dinner.

There’s a simple campsite at St Loy about half a mile inland from the path, and a more fully-featured one at Boleigh Farm, which is over a mile inland from Lamorna Cove. Finally, Mousehole Camping where I stayed is in Paul, a bit under a mile uphill from the trail.

If you’re not camping, places that take single-night bookings near the trail are pretty limited on this section: the best of the lot is probably the Ship Inn in Mousehole.