St Mawgan walk, through Newquay and on to the Bowgie Inn

"Grey skies gonna clear up. Put on a happy face"...and so they do; figuratively and literally. A couple of weeks or more of someone in the family being quite sick with flu and the car blowing a head gasket leaving us stranded has brightened up with better health and the car back from the wonderful Len Clarke (recommended mechanic if you're ever broken down around Liskeard).
We decided to do one of the pubwalks in the Newquay area, have a look at Newquay and then have lunch at the Bowgie Inn which is perched on a headland near the village of Crantock. Why the Bowgie Inn you ask? Lunch at the Bowgie comes as a 42 years old recommendation from my Mum and Dad who used to have a drink there when they went on surfing odysseys from Brighton down to Cornwall. I am happy to report that the food, the beer and the view over Crantock Beach are all still excellent.
But before we get to that we had to work up an appetite and our pubwalk was around the Mawgan Vale. The Morgul Vale in Lord Of The Rings is a dark, evil place - home of the Witchking Of Angmar Lord Of The Nazgul. Mawgan Vale is a beautiful, wooded place more reminiscent of the hobbits' walk to Bree without the scary bits. The walk started at the Falcon Inn in the village of St Mawgan, where a large, old, stone church is surrounded by a few houses with thatched roofs, a village shop and the pub. We walked around the perimeter of the church, up a hill, through a gate and then we were walking in the countryside overlooking the Mawgan Valley. It was a very civilised walk along a compacted stone pathway. Annie felt disconnected from nature and commented that Little Fur the fairy (Isobelle Carmody books) would not approve of covering the ground in such a manner.
The sky was blue, the sun warm and a refreshing breeze was coming off the ocean that could be seen between hills in the distance. Wildflowers were out in abundance. We saw beautiful wild climbing roses. At the end of the western ridge of the Mawgan Vale we descended into the valley and discovered that this was horse country (...shall I make Rohan analogies to keep the Lord Of The Rings theme going?). Proud steeds captured behind electric fences watched us walking by. There were two miniature horses standing near a gate so we took the time to give their noses a rub before continuing up the other side of the valley to the eastern ridge. Where the western ridge was open grassland with views, the eastern ridge was a walk through a woodland tunnel. The tree branches, thick with foliage, arched over to make a lush, cool, green tunnel. It was actually quite a relief from the sting of the sun. A stream burbled along through the valley and where footbridges crossed it we played the obligatory Pooh-sticks at each one. The walk conveniently ended at the car park where Rover 25 was waiting so then it was on to Newquay.
It was obvious as we drove into Newquay that we weren't in England anymore. We were in Manly or Narooma or the cover of a Beach Boys record. Australia quietly gets on with surfing. The beach is there, the water is there, the surf is there. You go to the beach. It is what Aussies do. Newquay positively SCREAMS surfing. "Surf City here we come" as Jan & Dean said. Maybe it felt like an over-commercialised Bell's Beach. A surfing Mecca. An important place in the consciousness of world surfing. It was surfing concentrated to a few coastal miles of its British home. Surf culture belongs to Fistral Beach and presumably the west coast of the United States with Narrabeen getting an appreciative nod in The Beach Boys' Surfing USA. Needless to say, on a warm, sunny Saturday it was packed! Without a place to park and children complaining from hunger it was through Newquay and on to Crantock and the Bowgie Inn for us.
I pictured Mum and Dad as 18-19 year olds sitting on the balcony of the Bowgie having a drink after a day lying on the beach and surfing respectively. I bet the large car park at the back of the pub wasn't there then and maybe the holiday units across the other headland weren't there but I think the scene would have been pretty much the same. Maybe it was less busy. Maybe it was evening and they watched the sun setting over the sea. We sat and ate for a while looking at the view across Crantock Beach, watching the afternoon surf lifesaver patrol setting up and watching the surfers catching the small waves. Beautiful views on a beautiful day.