Carn Galver, some fallen maidens and a mine called Ding Dong

The rocky trek on the way
to Carn Galver

A few places in Cornwall keep drawing me back. Some, such as the ones I shall describe in a future post, stir childhood and teenage memories of summers on the beach, sea salt in my hair and sandy hands clutching Cornish ice cream cornets. Others are more mysterious, far removed from the tourist trail, and of these my all-time favourite is the moorland around Carn Galver.

Many who drive along the picturesque, winding road between St Ives and Lands End, pass the long-extinct volcano of Carn Galver without giving it a second glance, save perhaps to gaze for a while at the derelict mine buildings at its foot. But those mine buildings stand beside a small car park and its there that my hike begins.

The climb up to Carn Galver is a rocky one, and a prickly one too as I thread my way through dense clumps of gorse but the view at the end is worth all the effort.

That's Pendeen Watch in the distance.  It's a view that may well be familiar to connoisseurs of the original Poldark series on BBC television.  Here's a picture from the opening sequence of the well-loved programmes, with the lighthouse of Pendeen Watch clearly visible.

I had to smile when so many people criticised the new Poldark series for featuring Trevose Head lighthouse, which was built some 60 years after Poldark's time. Well, the old series could be just as anachronistic! I think this Poldark view must have been taken from Zennor Hill, back in the St Ives direction, as that looks like Carn Galver on the right, in the middle distance.

From Carn Galver my route lay in a roughly southeasterly direction, back through all that prickly gorse and onward to firmer ground. It's odd, but in the few years since I moved from Cornwall I'd quite forgotten just how vivid were the colours of the wild flowers, and how strong their scent as it mingled with the salty sea air.

This ancient stone circle is The Nine Maidens.  Illogically, it used to comprise 22 granite blocks but, according to Wikipedia, only 10 survive.  I counted 11, though two were clearly fallen maidens.  And, as a friend later pointed out, a fallen maiden is no longer a maiden at all... which leaves 9. Perfect!

 Here's a closer look at one maiden and one disheveled old maid!

A little further along the track it can come as something of a surprise to realise that one has crossed from the Atlantic coast to views of Mounts Bay, with St Michael's Mount standing proud. Cornwall is very narrow at this point.

A couple more minutes' walk brought me to the delightfully named Ding Dong Mine, reputedly one of the oldest copper and tin mines in Cornwall. Production finally fizzled out in 1928. Unfortunately, the old engine house has recently suffered a spate of Health & Safety measures, with ugly metal fences baring access.  Perhaps someone was afraid that pussy would fall down the well.

Here are a couple of views from my last visit, in 2012, when folk were trusted to keep themselves safe. In the first you may just make out St Michael's Mount in the distance.

That's enough for this post. In the next one I'll continue the walk, lingering for a while to look at what is surely one of the oddest megalithic survivals in the land.