A walk with a lttle bit of everything, especially mud

It was Thursday and time for another walk with our U3A group from Gunnislake. A reasonable weather forecast and a route that was new to Mrs P and myself. In the event it turned out to be an excellent jaunt, with much to see and enjoy.

We started near Liskeard station and took a bus to Duloe. From there we followed the Looe river down the valley to the sea, at Looe. It came out at just under 6 miles. It didn't rain and, when the sun shone, it was quite warm. As the elevation profile shows, the first mile or so was quite flat, followed by quite a steep descent and then flat again as we walked along the river bank. What gave this walk an extra twist was...…………….

…….mud. Plenty of mud. Foot gripping, muscle sapping mud. 

Following an arduous 300 yard walk from the bus stop, we decided that it was time for our mid-morning break. And where best to rest up than in the local church - St Cuby's at Duloe? If you think the tower is leaning, you'd be right. It was much taller than this but the Victorians took the upper stage off to try and stabilise it. They put the pyramidal roof on at the same time. It was thought that, originally, there would have been a spire because the size of the tower appears to be too big for anything else. There is a local legend that the tower was leaning due to all of the smuggled goods stored there. Who knows if it's true but it's a good story.St Cuby (or Cybi) was a bishop who is said to have preached and founded churches at Duloe and Tregony before carrying out most of his ministry in Wales. He was a cousin of Dewi Sant, as his mother was the sister of Nonna, Dewi Sant's mother.

St Cuby's lies within a raised circular churchyard which is probably a lan (Celtic-style holy enclosure) and indicates a very early religious affiliation. The church as we see it today is medieval and later. The tower is mainly 13^th century, the Coleshull chantry chapel is late 15^th century, while the remainder of the fabric is the result of a regrettably, but perhaps necessarily, thorough Victorian rebuilding.
One of the unexpected pleasures of St Cuby's was the fine collection of elaborately carved slate monuments/headstones that can be found there. This coffin shaped one is of in memory of Ann Smith and is dated 1592. She has a high-crowned hat and ruff, with a very ornately patterned gown. In one hand she holds a pair of gloves and in the other a (prayer?) book. Another little detail that I like is the carved skull between her feet. A 'memento mori'. 

This slate is a memorial to Mary Arundell who was buried on 8th June 1629. Her age was not given but the assumption is that she was quite young. The monument is odd in that it shows two female figures but commemorates only one person. One explanation is that the smaller figure is apparently that of a little child and may symbolise the idea that Mary had made a miraculous recovery from a serious illness when she was very young. We'll never know for sure but it's got to be something along these lines.

This is my favourite one of the carvings as there's a lot to subtle detail to take in. There are two female figures facing each other over an altar. The woman on the right is wearing Jacobean garb and kneeling behind her  are two daughters, one of whom has a skull carved above her head, indicating that she had pre-deceased her mother. The woman on the opposite side is wearing clothes from the later period of Charles I. She has two sons behind her and also another son and a daughter, both of whom have a skull above them. The identity of this family is unknown as all of the shields are blank, which begs the question of why it was never finished off. It could be part of a tomb chest although there is no evidence of such a tomb having been in the church.

Another unusual feature of St Cuby's is the 15th century chantry chapel of Sir John Colshull. A chantry chapel is a place where prayers (paid for!) were said for the dead at regular intervals, the idea being that this would aid in his/her resurrection. In his day, Sir John was one of the three most important men in Cornwall. The  tomb shows the knight in his plate armour. It's impressive, albeit showing a little wear.

A reminder of the days when pews came with a price and only the rich could afford to get a seat. Luckily the Incorporate Church Building Society (looks like they got the name wrong on the board) was there to provide free seats. 

With a rapidly growing population, in the early decades of the 19^th century there was a severe shortage of churches. In some parts of London there were barely enough places in parish churches for one in nine of the population. And many people in the Church of England feared the rise of nonconformity and competition from Methodism. In the 19^th Century, the ICBS was responsible for the building and enlargement of hundreds of Anglican churches and chapels. Many hundreds of thousands of new spaces were provided in parish churches, the majority of them free for anyone to occupy, in contrast to the then customary provision of private pews.

And here are some of the free pews for the peasants. I wonder if you have to be means tested to see if you are poor enough to sit in them today? Or, perhaps, with the falling attendance seen in most churches, nowadays people are paid to use them?

Just sunshine on the choir stalls.

Dropping down to the river along a very steep track, although it doesn't look as steep as it really was in this photograph. I think we were all happy that we weren't doing this bit in the reverse direction.

Not a straightforward river side walk. Lots of natural hazards and awkward bits to negotiate.

The river in full spate. This was actually a ford. I'm not sure how often it is passable as the river seems pretty deep here.

Duck! Yet another thing to negotiate.

It's a good year for catkins.

It's also a good year for ferns. It's mind boggling to think of how many spores will eventually be released from the sporangia we can see. Well, it boggles my mind if not yours. But, then, I'm very easily boggled. It's an age thing.

An Oystercatcher with its stocky beak. Apparently it's got the biggest beak of all of our waders. Just the job for coping with its diet of shellfish - cockles and mussels (alive, alive oh) but rarely oysters in the UK. One of my bird books tells me that there are two subspecies of Oystercatchers - the 'stabbers', that prise open their food, and the 'hammerers' that smash the shells of their prey. The scientific name for the bird, Haematopus ostralegus, comes from the Greek haima αἳμα (blood), pous πούς (foot) and the Latin ostrea (oyster) and legere (to collect or pick). Here's a random fact: A group of Oystercatchers are known as a "parcel" or "stew". And another one: when feeding inland, they feed on worms, digging for which their stout beak is just what is needed.

Curlew or Eurasian Curlew. Another wader but with a completely different beak. This one is curved and ideally designed for probing in mud and silt for worms, shrimps etc. Here's another curlew fact: because of the way the beak is constructed for strength, it's tongue is relatively short and cannot help in the feeding process. Fancy that.
The curlew's genus name Numenius refers to the shape of its bill. Numenius comes from two Greek words, ‘neos’ meaning new and ‘mene’ for moon, alluding to the crescent-shaped of the bill. The species name also refers to the shape of its bill, as arquata is the Latin for the archery bow. Put it all together and you get Numenius arquata.

And the river flows into the sea. Almost but not quite. Boats moored alongside the quay at East Looe.

Whilst in West Looe, just across the river, the boats are stuck on the mud.