Note that all maps on this site are only indicative. You should
never set out without the correct OS map.
In central Hayle you know you are close to the sea but the Atlantic,
for all its size, is not easy to spot. That's because Riviere Towans
get in the way. If you're anything like me, you'll want to set off
and find the shore.
Heading north from the main street I crossed the swing-bridge
over the narrow gut that links Copperhouse Pool to the harbour and
followed the quayside as far as I could.
Basic Hike: A tour around The Towans.
Take the South West Coast Path north west out of Hayle and take
your choice as to where you return across the dunes.
Recommended map: Ordnance Survey Explorer 102
- Land's End.
Distance and going: between three and six miles,
depending how far along The Towans you go. Easy going.
Food and drink: multiple choices in Hayle.
I recalled visiting the place for my
Western Morning News harbour series and writing: "In my opinion
Hayle is one of Cornwall's best kept secrets. The past may have
left it a little scarred but, to me, this post-industrial, bye-passed,
harbour town is a good deal more interesting than some of the more
quaint and touristy havens I've visited."
The port probably enjoyed some sort of prominence way back in
pre-Christian times - the name comes from "Heyl" which
is Celtic for estuary. For centuries the passage around Land's End
was regarded as dangerous and travellers, such as the early Christian
pilgrims en-route from Ireland to Santiago de Compostela in Spain,
preferred to take the overland route from Lelant, on the western
shore of Hayle Harbour, to St Michael's Mount.
Several things have changed the face
of Hayle over the past couple of decades: the opening of the A30
bye-pass relegated the place from being a busy roadside town to
coastal backwater; the massive, ugly, power station was demolished;
and the equally unsightly quayside chemical works was made redundant.
You pass what remains of the two latter eyesores as you make your
way out to the narrow gap which has been cut by the River Hayle.
The paved road gives way to a sandy track and, eventually, you come
to a bumpy car park that overlooks the estuary. There, on the other
side of the river, you can see the ancient church at Lelant tucked
among its dunes, surrounded by men and women pushing golf buggies
hither and thither. And out across the wide expanse of Porth Kidney
Sands you can spy St Ives clinging to the hillsides that curve around
its east-facing bay.
Behind you there's the most interesting
and motley collection of beach huts and chalets you'll see anywhere
on the peninsula. They make a picturesque jumble and I hope that
no busy-bodying, do-good local politician will ever be daft enough
to have them removed. I know that the high and mighty tend to hate
lowly, scruffy places like this, but believe me - these chalets
are among the finest homes in Cornwall.
Further around The Towans, the chalets get a lot more uniform
and neat, but it's the higgledy-piggledy ones I like best. Anyway,
talking of going further around The Towans - that's exactly what
we must do. I scrambled down onto the beach to make my way north
west towards Gwithian. The great sweep of sand is one of the county's
finest big-beaches.
My plan was to walk all the way up
the shore to Gwithian, but time was short so I had no chance of
enjoying the grander route. I found a public right-of-way that led
right over the big hillocky swathe that is Common Towans. This brought
me neatly to Phillack, which is a sort of annexe to Hayle, and then
it was simply a case of making my way along Copperhouse Pool back
to the harbour.
The creek is a Site of Special Scientific Interest and must hold
some sort of record for being the closest bird reserve to a town
centre anywhere. Look out of any shop window and you will see up
to 5,000 golden plover, along with little grebes, great northern
and black throated divers and even rarities like the North American
ring-billed gull - to name but a few of the reserve's species.
The wading birds were out in huge numbers, doing whatever wading
birds do, as I walked along. And their mournful cries reminded me
once again of that I love the soft and soothing melancholy that
always seems to brood over Hayle - one of Cornwall's best kept secrets.
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