Still feeling high on last night’s stunning sunset over the Fal Estuary and our mornings stroll through the gardens of Trebah we drive the 13 miles round the estuary to the little village of Helford.

The car park, above the village, is thankfully free for the winter months – no scrabbling for cash or time on my phone trying to work an app. We follow the road down the hill to the quaint village with its whitewashed cottages, thatched roofs and the Shipwright Inn. A little wooden footbridge takes us over the inlet, down to the ferry point. On the far side of the wide estuary we can see Helford Passage and the inn where we enjoyed the sunshine with friends yesterday. The ferry is not running today, it stopped for the winter season just last week.

Set the Garmin, then retrace our steps back through the village, passing the village shop and car park. The coast path takes us behind a couple of riverside dwellings with delightful views – blue sky with the sun glinting on the moored yachts in the estuary.

There are a couple of men messing around in the water in diving gear – It’s a surprise, but a delight, to hear their strong Irish accents. The next sound we hear is the distressed miaowing of a cat, I call out and the little kitten appears off the beach – very wet, very loud and very black, with a blue collar and bell. Oh, and he’s very friendly too and seems to imprint on us despite other walkers passing by. After a few minutes of him running up behind us, stopping to lick his paw, I decide we need to try and find ‘home’! He follows us back to one of the cottages and we are satisfied when he dashes into the garden – this must be home.

Retracing our steps we pass through woodland, mostly sycamore but with the odd hydrangea still in flower. Bosahan Cove is deserted and there is no sign of life as we peer into the Bosahan Estate, the numerous signs saying Private Woodland. Curious now, I find out that it’s more than just a woodland estate, one website describes it as “the quintessential Cornish Valley Garden”, currently not open to the public, but my interest is piqued.

Fields edged with electric fencing follow the woodlands then a little loop down to Dennis Head – we can see back towards Falmouth, St. Mawes and beyond. A tiny little yellow boat bobbing in the sea gives a reality jolt into how big and fearsome the sea really is – it looks very vulnerable. At present all is calm, the sun is shining and there is little breeze.

As we loop back looking towards Gillan Creek, the tide is out and we can see a trickle over the muddy riverbed, edged with dark trees. At St. Anthony-in-Meneage with its church, beach, colourful fishing boats and tiny cluster of houses, we ponder the crossing of the creek. A couple we speak to seem to think it possible but we might need to take off our boots! I don’t relish the thought of trying to clean muddy feet let alone muddy boots. We find the crossing point marked with a footpath sign and take one look at the murky green covered stepping stones and decide to turn back. Even if we are successful with these, there is another set of stepping stones on the other side.

The route round on mostly roads is it first steep but easy going and takes just 25 minutes, the latter bit across a cabbage patch. Stop for an orange and biscuits in a ruined boffy or farm building. At Gillan Beach we say hello to some walkers, cross a little bridge, admiring the low-rise shack then stop in our tracks as an orange ped barrier bars the route. A sign, cable tied to the top of the steps, says the coast path is closed due to cliff erosion. And we were hoping to get to our destination before sunset. A steep unmade path takes us up the glen, then a sharp left back down to the cliff top – no more diversions please it’s nearly 4 o clock and the sun sets in half an hour.

Looking on the map we are at Men-aver Point, I’ve read about a lot of shipwrecks around here but I’m sure that’s not meant to be “man-over” board!

At what looks like a private entrance to Lestowder Beach a gate is adorned with sea bounty (or maybe sea rubbish) – colourful buoys, a flipper, fishing nets filled with footballs and a sign saying “Please take your flotsam and jetsam”. Nare Point has a manned look-out station – as we wander round there’s a very strange noise which makes us start. It’s the volunteer lady putting down the shutters for the night. There is no car parked up and I wonder how she will get back to civilisation?

The path from this point to Porthallow is a mosaic of fields and muddy tracks between blackthorn bushes and brambles. Thankfully the track has recently been strimmed and the trees cut back. Passing a brand-new National Trust sign saying Porthallow ¾ mile we speed up and are soon at the Five Pilchards Inn – our bed for the night. Our car is still at Helford, our boots are muddy but the pub is open and our room is ready so it’s time for a sit down.