We are staying in Marazion for one week this trip. It's an old,  lovely little town. Marazion’s charter of incorporation was granted by Henry III in 1257, making the town one of the oldest chartered towns in the UK. Just for perspective, the 13th century was a busy time: Marco Polo was exploring; Fibonacci was calculating; Genghis Khan was invading; William Wallace was charging; Dante was musing; and Louis IX and Henry III were ending 100 years of conflict by signing the Treaty of Paris, which ended up wobbling along until 1337, when the Hundred Years War broke out, proving just how fickle peace treaties can be.

But back to Marazion. We choose this quaint little seaside town because from here we can take buses back and forth from all the trailheads (and trailends), without having to worry about luggage. We're clever that way.

​​On this walk we'll see lots of smuggling locations. Prussia Cove and Bessy's Cove were (are?) part of a huge smuggling operation. The notorious Carter family ran a ring that included a battery of mounted guns to use against the tax and customs people. As recently as 1979, 3 million pounds of pot was confiscated after being smuggled in. My. 
​We leave our cottage in Marazion, walk across the street, then down a lane to the South West Coast Path.
​Across the bottom of a market garden.
We reach the coast.
Six miles later we reach Praa Sands. First lunch. Or maybe second breakfast.

​We watch as a surfer gets caught in the riptide, gets rescued by a lifeguard on a surfboard, gets caught again, gets rescued by two lifeguards, then practically collapses on the beach. The lifeguards are strong, the riptide is fierce.

We head off on the second leg of the journey, to Porthleven, about six miles away. During low tide, the path goes straight across the beach; it's the first time we've walked the actual beach as part of the trail. 
​We head off on the second leg of the journey, to Porthleven, about six miles away. During low tide, the path goes straight across the beach; it's the first time we've walked the beach as part of the trail.
​You think how cool it would be to live here. ​But then you see the inside and, nah.
​Prussia Cove. It was used by smugglers and/or wreckers to haul their loot up from the sea, probably pulled by mule? Donkey maybe. ​See that cart trail worn into the rock? Amazing.
​Prussia Cove from the other side. Zoom in to see the whole smuggling operation. The house on top would have been the lookout. At least, in a movie maybe.
​Why is the red guy leaving his pal behind? Why is the black guy just standing there with his hands in the air, probably screaming? Run, you silly!

​On the right, a mining engine house and shaft just ahead.
​Parts of Poldark were filmed here.
​Trying to figure out where the hell we are. Then eating again.
Cod and chips and those yucky mushy peas which Susanne loves and Bob and I eat only because it's a veggie and we're hungry.
​Then, while waiting 45 minutes for the bus, we eat some of the marvelous pastries we bought that morning in Helston. ​Bakewell tarts!