“This site is not a play area”
The apparently unused (due to a fault in the design) abandoned silos at Blackpool dryers at Trewoon on the outskirts of St. Austell.
I used to work with a Brummie who would frequently say about London: “wherever I’m standing, someone wants to be in that exact spot”. I think the same about cars: wherever I’m standing – or walking, a car wants to go there (yes, even on the pavement). I’ll never understand the popularity of motor vehicles – to me, still, the most impractical, clunky invention, ever. A ton of metal to transport a 140 pound person? Bonkers.
Anyway, aside from the environmental implications (which I’ve probably mentioned previously), my main gripe about cars is you always have to go back and get them. Let me explain: if I were to drive somewhere to go for a country walk, for example, having to return to the car afterwards would be so dull. How do I know where I’m going to end up? Wherever that is, it’s unlikely to be where I started from (and where the car is).
And so it is in the China Clay trails around St Austell in Cornwall. My intention was to be practical, for once: I downloaded and printed out all the official China Clay trail maps, and used them to a certain extent, then went completely off-piste (intentional pun – the area used to be known as the Cornish Alps), climbing over barbed wire gates, fences and walls, past all the signs telling me ‘This site is not a play area’. Are they kidding? It’s the most fun I have in this county.
There are always a few people on the official trails – cyclists, joggers and dog walkers, mainly. But once over the fence – into the exclusion zone, so to speak, it’s completely, eerily empty. I don’t even know what I’d do if I saw another person – hide, probably. But I love it. It’s so peaceful and calm.
It’s wise to visit on the weekend to avoid the possibility of any members of officialdom – some of the clay pits are still functioning, Monday to Friday, and hurtling trucks, lethal-looking machinery and controlled explosions abundant, and obviously best avoided. Actually, the workers are usually great, and have let me photograph any part of a clay pit I’ve wanted (it sometimes pays just to ask nicely and not sneak around).
But I like the peace and tranquility at the weekends best (even if I always feel like I’m being watched), the lack of cars, the wildlife, and, of course, the surreal pyramids and azure pools.
My journey to the area consisted of bus, train, bus and walking. There was no way back. A kindly bus driver dropped me off at the entrance to Carloggas Downs on the busy A391 (not an actual bus stop). Muddy paths wind up a hill to reveal stunning views of the area’s clay tips, in particular the iconic Sky Tip, proudly displaying its Cornish flag on top.
Great Treverbyn or the Carluddon Sky Tip, in Carclaze, can be seen for miles around.
Building works (just outside of the photo above) now surround the tip as well as the area around nearby Baal Pit, where new houses are springing up faster than spring flowers. Amazingly, these are still calling themselves eco-towns, whilst the ‘no ecotown’ group expresses alarm at the destruction of wildlife, increased traffic congestion, lack of employment in the local area and unaffordability of the properties.
I crossed over a gate laced with barbed wire and continued walking through the building works and around the lake (the one in the picture above), then around the tip. Aside from the constant hum of the A391, it was idyllic. Bees buzzed and birds sang, the hazy sun shone, the abundant gorse smelt like Coconut Oil Body Lotion.
I walked aimlessly for hours in the alien landscape, always a little on edge, but lost in its beauty and strangeness. I eventually joined up with the official path, a passing cyclist stopping to help me over the ubiquitous barbed wire fence. I finished this leg by walking up to Sky Spur, an amazing viewpoint overlooking the area around Wheal Martyn.
I walked back to town, then caught a bus to Trewoon, to explore the Blackpool Pit Nature Trail, which starts and ends with car parks, with another one in the middle, just in case drivers don’t want to deviate too far from their vehicles. This area has also been earmarked with total devastation – by which I mean the building of an eco-town. The one here is the biggest of the lot, and will include 2,500 houses, a school and new train station.
Blackpool pit.
The trail skirts the side of the huge Blackpool pit, with stunning views of China clay country on the other side. The trail ended after a mile, so I continued on a road towards Greensplat. This had marvellous views of the flooded Blackpool Pit, and I hopped over another barbed wire fence for a better look. I eventually hooked up with a small path I knew from a previous walk, and ambled alongside the other side of Blackpool Pit, with a couple of small clay tips on the other side of the path.
On the way back I took a small detour and came across some eerie, abandoned circular separation tanks. Some were full of water, in others it was shallow, with reeds and grasses growing in them.
The sun was getting low, and the wind picking up; I heard strange sounds, metal rattling and grasses whistling; I felt I was in a low-budget horror film. I didn’t linger long, and had a well-deserved pint in the White Pyramid pub whilst waiting for the bus.
