St. Agnes to Coombe: South West Coast Path Day 20 Guide

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For the second morning in a row, a heavy downpour hit around 7:00 a.m. as I was about to make the trek to the toilet block. It lasted an hour, which provided a good test of my bladder control if nothing else, and then stopped for long enough to get our gear packed away and the tent pulled down. I’m going to call that a win.

The rain was always likely to mean a later start to the day, and the luxury of being able to make coffee in our friend’s campervan instead of crouching over my gas cooker in the wet grass guaranteed it.

After discussing what to do about Lauren’s foot for much of last night, watching her slowly limp her way across the campsite this morning sealed the deal. She’d been stoically dealing with agonising heel pain for the last three days, but it wasn’t getting any better, and we were both starting to worry that something was seriously wrong.

A quick chat with our friends and an even quicker search for accommodation later, we all piled into the van. Dan and I would keep walking from where we’d left off in St. Agnes yesterday, while Claire would drop Lauren in St Ives for three days of recovery. Surely that would have to help?

After an impressively good breakfast at Q Cafe in St. Agnes (definitely eat there if you get the chance), the two of us set out back down the road to rejoin the path. The climbing started immediately, as did the rain showers: both of them would persist throughout the day.

That first climb out of town was unexpectedly steep, but once we got up onto the cliffs the trail stayed flat for well over two miles as we made our way towards and around St. Agnes Head. While there were dark clouds all around, there was plenty of blue sky and watery sunshine as well, so we got to enjoy the expansive views and easy walking while repeatedly saying how lucky we were not to be getting rained on.

And then we got rained on.

We just crested a rise and started walking towards the tall chimneys and ruined stone buildings of the old tin mine at Towanroath when we noticed a huge rain cloud coming straight towards us across the bay. Without a word we both picked up the pace, trotting and then running for the limited shelter of the buildings as the first squall hit.

There’s no roof left on those old buildings, but because the wind was so strong, some of the rain got blown around us as we huddled up in the lee of the engine house. Don’t get me wrong, my rain jacket still got a good workout, but it could have been a lot worse. As indeed it was for several other people visiting the site who hadn’t noticed the apocalypse approaching.

The upside of all that wind is that the rain disappeared after a few minutes, blown further inland to the delight of both myself and the local farmers.

It felt like we were also going to be blown inland as we picked our way along the web of cliffside paths beside the mine, but the wind died off as we dropped down into Chapel Porth, a little cove and beach that looked like it would have been lovely on a different day.

We were both tempted by the cafe sitting there beside the river, but it had been barely 90 minutes since breakfast: even by my standards, it was a little hard to justify. The weather was on the improve as well, so we decided to postpone our break and slog our way up the steep trail on the other side of the cove instead. I was regretting that choice well before we got to the top.

After a ten-minute stroll on a wide stony path along the top of the cliffs, we passed a couple of lovely golden-sand beaches as we descended towards Porthtowan. That need for refreshments had reasserted itself by the time we got to the bottom and into the village, so we stopped at the first place we saw to deal with that requirement.

As the name suggests, Blue Bar is definitely more of a bar than a cafe, but they served decent coffee and tasty brownies, and I even got to sit in what passed for sunshine outside as I consumed them. What more could I ask for?

Porthcowan beach looked pretty in the sunshine as we climbed up the cliffs on the other side, with a few hardy souls already setting up their windbreaks on the sand. They needed them: the rain seemed to have gone for a while, but the wind definitely hadn’t.

Just like earlier in the day, the trail flattened out again once we got to the top of the cliffs: with the exception of a couple of short, sharp descents into valleys and climbs up the other side, we had an easy time of it for the next three miles into Portreath.

One of those valleys ended at a rocky beach with the delightful name of Sally’s Bottom: on the other side, a white radar tower glistening in the sunshine slightly inland was our first hint that we were passing an RAF base.

The long, imposing fence we met shortly afterward meant there was no chance of a wrong turn on this part of the trail, but fortunately there was plenty to look at beyond an ugly chain-link barrier: this was one of the more scenic sections, full of pretty heather-covered cliffs that were busily eroding into the ocean.

We met up with Claire again beside the narrow harbour in Portreath, an old fishing village that didn’t have as much charm as some of the others along the Cornish coast, but made for the perfect place to stop for a quick lunch nonetheless.

I didn’t have high expectations from the Portreath Bakery, which just goes to show how wrong first impressions can be: the vegan pasty I had from there was so good that I went back for a second, only to discover they’d sold the last one minutes before. Devastating.

Claire had left the van in a cliffside carpark a couple of miles away: the campsite a little way inland from there was the only option for quite some distance, making the decision about where to stay tonight pretty straightforward. Given the amount of wind around, not being directly on the coast felt like a very good idea if I wanted to get any sleep in the tent tonight.

Before we got there, though, we had the lumpiest section of the day to tackle. Individually, none of the climbs or descents were particularly hard once we got out of Portreath, but there were enough of them that our legs were all starting to grumble towards the end.

There was no grumbling whatsoever, though, when we passed a few majestic-looking ponies wandering on the trail a little way outside Portreath. A herd, perhaps. Can you call them a herd when there’s only four of them? We discussed the matter at some length, with no firm answers.

After that, it was only a short, albeit gusty, walk along the cliff edge to pick up the van: we were all pretty glad to see it, as battling into the wind was getting tiresome. Dan drove off, making for Magor Farm campsite, but the walking wasn’t quite over for Claire and I yet: we had a mile of walking on public footpaths and small lanes left to go.

That decision to spend the night away from the coast was vindicated almost immediately: even a couple of hundred yards inland, the wind died down significantly. By the time we got to the site and into the shelter of some tall trees, it was all but gone, just like my phone signal.

The campsite wasn’t much more than a long grassy field with a basic shower and toilet block in the middle, but it was fine for a night. With hardly anybody else staying there, the risk of noisy neighbours was non-existent: the nearest caravan must have been nearly a hundred yards away.

We’d already planned to make dinner in the van tonight, which was fortunate, since there was nowhere nearby to walk to for food. I’d been a bit concerned about the amount of rain in the overnight forecast, but it had the decency to wait until I’d finished pitching the tent before it showed up.

Listening to it hammer on the van roof as we chatted and ate made for a cozy evening, and I even managed to get a tiny amount of phone service to let Lauren know where we’d ended up. She hadn’t gone further than the nearest restaurant all day: hopefully taking 300 steps instead of the usual 30,000 would have some benefit.

I guess we’d find out in a day or two!

Planning

Started at: Driftwood Spars, Trevaunance Cove, St. Agnes (on-trail)

Finished at: Magor Farm Campsite, Coombe (0.9 miles/1.5km off-trail)

There’s an old-school photo on the old-school website for Magor Farm with the tagline “camping as it used to be”, and that couldn’t be more accurate.

There are no prebooked pitches, and no office or staff on-site: instead, you just show up and choose a spot, and someone will show up to take payment in the evening by card or cash.

The site is a long stretch of grass, backed by tall trees that do a great job of protecting from the prevailing southerly wind. There was hardly anybody else there when we stayed at the end of August, so we really could pick almost anywhere we liked.

Facilities were pretty basic, with an old toilet and shower block that was tired but clean, and little else. This isn’t the place to stay if you’re looking for all the mod-cons, but if all you’re after is a quiet, sheltered place to pitch a tent for the night, you could do a lot worse.

There’s nowhere within an easy walk to get a meal, so I’d highly recommend grabbing supplies in Portreath on your way through. We paid the bargain rate of £6.67 each: £15 for a pitch with two people, and £5 for an extra person.

Transport and Parking

Public transport is in short supply on this section, and there isn’t really a sensible way to walk in one direction and take a bus back again. You’d be looking at a minimum of three buses and the better part of two hours to do it.

Practically, you’re more likely to take a taxi in one direction (I’d suggest leaving a car in St. Agnes and taking a taxi from there to wherever you want to start walking back, just to guard against not having phone service when you need it at the end), or doing a car shuffle. In contrast to the poor public transport, there are more useful free parking options than usual on this section.

In St. Agnes, Repper’s Combe carpark is a couple of hundred yards from the trail back up the road towards the main part of town, and has reasonable all-day rates. It’s quite small and tight, though, so you might struggle to get a spot during busy periods.

A good alternative option is the free carpark at St. Agnes Heads, a couple of miles past the town and right on the Coast Path.

There’s a paid carpark in Portreath, and a few free carparks near each other at North Cliffs beside the Coast Path: we left the van at carpark #4, right where we turned inland to the campsite at Coombe.

Waymarking and Navigation

Waymarking was good and navigation generally straightforward on this section, helped by that long fence beside the Ministry of Defence land that gave us literally no alternative but to stay on the right track.

There’s a spiderweb of paths around the Towanroath mine, and it’s easy to end up on a different trail running parallel to the Coast Path. Ask me how I know. It doesn’t make any difference, since all the paths converge shortly afterward, but keep your map handy on this section if you want to stick to the official route.

I used AllTrails as my main navigation app for the entire South West Coast Path, and it worked well throughout. The St. Agnes to Portreath section is covered here, while Portreath to Coombe is part of this map. 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 came and went throughout the day with O2: there wasn’t a lot of it in any of the towns and villages, since they were all down in a valley, but it was less of an issue when we were up on the cliffs. Likewise I had full service as I left the path to head towards the campsite, and none once by the time I got there.

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 really well as a fallback option throughout my time on the Coast Path: whenever I needed data service but couldn’t get it on my usual SIM, I’d switch to the eSIM and choose a different network.

Facilities

We chose to get dropped off at Q Cafe in St. Agnes, a little way back from the beach and the trail, and that turned out to be an excellent choice. The breakfast was very good, the coffee was one of the better ones I’d had recently, and the staff were very friendly. It seemed to be a popular local hangout, and it wasn’t hard to see why.

Genki, a bit further up the road, is another well-rated breakfast spot, and you’ve got a few others back in the village proper.

After that, there’s a tea room a few hundred yards inland of the Towanroath mine at Wheal Coates, but I’d be more inclined to wait slightly longer for the cafe at Chapel Porth which is right on the trail.

You’ve got several choices in Porthtowan, restaurants, cafes, pubs, and those that are a bit of everything like the Blue Bar where we stopped for elevenses.

There’s nothing beyond that until you arrive in Portreath, but you’ve got the full range of options there. Pubs, cafes, takeaway eats from fish and chip shops and bakeries, sit-down restaurants, it’s all there.

There’s also a small Costcutter supermarket, which is likely to come in useful if you stay at the same campsite we did in Coombe: as mentioned, there’s nowhere near there to get food, so pick it up Portreath first.

Accommodation

You’ve got a few camping options on this section, although most aren’t really where you want them: that’s the main reason we ended up nearly a mile off-trail at Magor Farm. The campsite at St Agnes Beacon is far too close to the start, and Porthtowan Tourist Park isn’t much better unless you want a really short day.

If you’d prefer to stay in traditional accommodation, however, you’ve got more choice, although you’ll still need to have either a shorter day or go a long way off-trail. This self-contained 1-bedroom house would be my pick in Porthtowan, but assuming you’d prefer to carry on to Portreath, go for the Portreath Arms or The Haven instead.