Walking the Saints Way

With an interest in pilgrimage, an approaching birthday, and a few days holiday, we decided to walk The Saints Way. The summer of 2025 had been unusually sunny. However, now, at the end of August, the forecast warned of storms. It was just the weather for hiking and camping in Cornwall!

The Saints Way is an ancient drovers path. It links Padstow in the North of Cornwall with Fowey on the South coast. Drovers from Ireland and Wales once used the route to avoid the treacherous seas around Land’s End. Some believe this route was also a religious route, used by Christian monks journeying towards Santiago de Compostela in Spain. Today The Saints Way is a thirty mile long path which winds through Cornish villages. Pilgrim passports can be stamped in churches along the way.

Research proved that Public transport wasn’t going to be easy on this route. So, we had to choose between relying on taxis or taking two cars. We chose the latter, which gave me a chance to take my new little caddy camper van out! We decided to base ourselves at a campsite midway between the start and end of the route. The campsite was Mena Farm, near Lanivet. To my surprise on arrival, I realised I had stayed there before. It was pre-covid!

We arrived in Cornwall earlier than expected. So, we decided to walk the first stretch of the walk that same evening. We left one van at our walk destination of Trenance. Then, we parked up in Padstow. We started our walk to Trenance, which is a journey of around 5 miles. We were briefly distracted by the Twin Fin shop, where we enjoyed some rum tasting. Sadly, we did not buy any as we would have had to carry the bottles! We headed uphill to St Petroc’s Church. Ironically, it shares the same name as the Devon college where we both once worked! There we collected our pilgrim passports and our first stamp.

We walked out of Padstow heading towards the granite obelisk on the hill. We were rewarded with sweeping views of the Camel Estuary. Although the day had been very rainy, the evening was turning much nicer.

After taking a detour to the obelisk we followed the path to Little Petherick Creek. This was the prettiest section of the whole walk.

Just after getting lost with a footpath diversion, we met a smartly dressed man; shirt, tie, and hat. He told us that now in retirement, he had finally fulfilled his dream of working on a farm. He was the smartest farm worker I have ever seen! He kindly put us back on the right track on the correct route to Trenance. Where we hopped in the van back to the campsite.

It was twilight when we pitched our tent alongside the van, we cooked up our ration packs. My pasta was surprisingly tasty. We felt very glad to have started the walk.

The next day we took the van to Trenance. Our plan was to walk back to the campsite at Lanivet, a distance of approximately 14 miles. The first part of the path was in the open and very windy, no wonder they placed Wind Turbines here! Along the way, we met a couple walking the Saints Way in small sections. We felt more like “true” pilgrims, doing it in one go — or at least over a few days! We passed the ancient settlement of Blable, which means “Wolf Pit.” We thought of wolves once roaming here. They were hunted to extinction in the 15th century.

We then went on to St Breock Down, we were eager to see the St Breock Longstone. It is the heaviest standing stone in Cornwall. Sadly, it was fenced off in farmland. As we passed by burial barrows we were reminded of this sacred ground which existed long before the christian pilgrims.

The quiet lanes and pretty cottages were peaceful. This was a contrast to the 18th century, when this route would have been busy. Bodmin was Cornwall’s ecclesiastical and commercial hub then.

This part of the route used quite a few tarmac roads. I was grateful for my snacks. Even foraging and army rations were appreciated!

At Withiel we reached St Clement’s Church and time for another passport stamp.

Further into our walk as we left Withiel behind us, We had to fend off two of nature’s challenges. Firstly it was a field of Maize and then a herd of bullocks!

Eventually, with tired legs, we reached Lanivet — or so I thought! Upon visiting the village shop, we spoke to a kindly shop assistant. Only to learn that we still had two miles to go! I think I should have bought more than a packet of Quavers! The remaining distance to the campsite was uphill. We arrived in the rain and cooked another ration pack supper in the dark.

The next day, we drove ahead to position the car at Fowey. Then, we drove back to the campsite. To then walk back to Fowey, approximately 12 miles. This stretch took us past Helman Tor a granite outcrop. It felt very much like we were on Dartmoor, not Bodmin.

The route planner had two choices of routes at this points. We Chose the traditional route, where we had the sense of walking an ancient drovers’ ridgeway, a granite-hedged path. We passed several types of granite stones. St Brevita Church at Lanlivery greeted us with its tall tower. We were welcomed with another pilgrim stamp.

The next section towards Miltown had more tarmac than we’d have liked, not helped by two wrong turnings. I was glad that I had my special trail mix created by @lundyChef

At last we reached Golant and St Sampson’s Church. A pint at the Fisherman’s Arms was welcome — but ill-timed, as light was fading. We sensibly decided to take a taxi back to the car. We saved the final short leg for the morning of my birthday.

It was the right call. The last stretch was shaded and wooded, with glimpses of the River Fowey. It felt very much like an ancient rain forest. Later, I found that temperate rain forests do exist in Cornwall. With fresh legs we enjoyed the sight of the River Fowey glinting through the trees.

We arrived into Fowey near the Bodinnick Ferry. We hadn’t entered Fowey from this direction before. Carrying rucksacks and a walking stick, we felt like real pilgrims among the tourists. Even if our first stop was for ice cream!

Looking back, the Saints Way felt less about distance. It was more about the rhythm of walking. Pushing tired legs on to the next destination, each step steeped in history.