Harbour Cove – a world away
Some beaches feel like another world. We walk to new lands, along the Camel Estuary to Harbour Cove
We’re walking down a narrow trail, a summer morning, the hedgerows alive with colour: red campion, purple buddleia, yellow daisy. Ahead, down the hill, a little wedge of deep blue, sparkling in the sun. A few more minutes and the view kicks in proper: the estuary, a myriad of blues and greens dark and light, snaking and swirling on bright sand before it blends into the Atlantic Ocean.
This is Harbour Cove.
“According to Cornish folklore, a mermaid conjured up the sandbar as a dying curse…”
Life can be hectic these days, so we’re here to leave the everyday behind, to idly while away this day on our own, secluded beach. Sitting just north of Padstow and across the Camel Estuary from Daymer Bay, Harbour Cove also known as Tregirls – is sandwiched in between Hawker’s Cove to the north, and St George’s Cove to the south. And secluded it is, save for a few dog walkers, we have the expanse of powdery sand to ourselves. Car parking for this beach is limited, as are amenities.
Sand stories
The tide is out, and the beach stretches out towards the notorious Doom Bar: a sandbar famed for wrecking ships on their way to Padstow harbour, at least until the twentieth century, when the main channel moved away from the Stepper Point cliffs. According to Cornish folklore, a mermaid conjured up the sandbar as a dying curse after she was shot by a local man. Unsurprisingly, the Doom Bar is a symbol of melancholy in Cornwall (and also the name of one of the county’s most famous ales).
“What to do? Read, sunbathe, go for a swim, or just watch the landscape as it shifts slightly under the sky? Time here moves slower somehow.”
Shoes off, we walk towards the sand dunes. An invisible skylark issues a loud trill, as we sit at the base of a dune. For the entire time we’re there, it sings excitedly, like a close friend we haven’t seen for years. What to do? Read, sunbathe, go for a swim, or just watch the landscape as it shifts slightly under the sky? Time here moves slower somehow. A boat drones along the estuary towards the sea. The long marram grass rustles in the gentle sea breeze. The sun feels warm on our skin, and we feel ourselves drifting.
Estuary perspectives
We wake up. The best nap of our lives? We sit up and look around; there are a few more people on the beach: young couples sunbathing at the foot of the dunes, dog walkers, walkers. Even though there’s more people, it still feels empty: the tide is still out and the beach still vast. It’s lunchtime. There are no cafes or restaurants here. But there is a tea garden at Hawker’s Cove. We get up and start walking.
Along the coast path a little and up a hill, the Rest A While tea garden is tiny. Six tables in a small garden, potted plants and flowers everywhere. But the thing that draws the eye, is the view. Overlooking Hawker’s Cove, you can see for miles – over the estuary to Daymer Bay, Rock and the Atlantic. The proprietor is welcoming, the cheese scone is huge, warm, fluffy and delicious. The place is busy with customers, but no one minds sharing a table. And when we’re done, we linger to take in that view for just a little while longer.
“We can’t help stopping on the trail to look back at the tranquil, otherworldly place we’re leaving.”
On the beach, the tide is starting to come in. We can’t come here and not swim in those clear blue waters. In the small pools collected on the beach, the water is warm. Once we get to the estuary, we submerge ourselves completely, and the cold water swimmer’s high blossoms.
Tidal time
Back at the dune, our skylark friend is still there, still trilling. The clouds are starting to gather, but the sun is still out, so we lie back and make the most of it. It’s early afternoon, and the beach is still quiet. If we were feeling a little more energetic, we could walk along the beach to Padstow, passing Gun Point Battery, built in 1940 to defend against German invasion. But we’re not, so we read for a while.
Our skylark friend has stopped singing, maybe they’ve left. The evening beckons, and the clouds have done their gathering. It all seems like a sign to pack our things up and head home. The tide has risen further, transforming the beach. The expanse has gone. In its place, a classical sweep of clean sand, like it was painted by a brush.
As we make our way back up the hill, we can’t help stopping on the trail to look back at the tranquil, otherworldly place we’re leaving. For the moment, life feels less hectic.
Roaming, Rescue and Refreshment
We explore the beach community in Harbour Cove, from farms, rescues, roaming walkers and sea-view tea rooms.
Image credit: Padstow Farm Shop
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Beach Retreats’ Head of Marketing, Katy Austin-Waters, visits Harbour Cove, a beach that never fails to impress
Sea moreYour Beach. Found
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