​We take a bus to a small village (it's probably not even a village) called "Hell's Mouth." The bus stops at a little cafe where we eat a slice of cake. This was a second breakfast; we'd eaten the first much earlier.

We are just walking along, enjoying the view and life itself, when right around this corner the trail seems to dip lower than usual. 

​We trail goes way way down, zigzagging because it's so steep, then up the same way, Then it does it again. Two mammoth hills in a row.

​It seems a bit churlish to complain about how hard this is when there are folks running the whole path!

​I don't pay much heed to this sign. ​Until I reach these guys, who look a bit threatening. And what's with the poor guy (gal?) on the ground? Is she sleeping? Dead? Giving birth? We give them a wide berth and keep going.

​Finally, we see Portreath. Just in time too because Bob and I are having one of those silly stupid arguments that befall all married couples sometimes and at this point we're not even talking to each other. That's how mature we are.