Woof, woof…my name is Bertie, I’m a Schnauzer and with my mum’s help and I wanted to tell you a story, so here it is. Most of my life is very fulfilling, my routine is daily walks with my owner on the footpaths of Mylor, chasing the local cats and squirrels, plus I help her in the house and garden. But, recently, on one sunny week in May, my mum and I embarked on an adventure!
We were about to set off on the celebrated Saints’ Way led by Nigel and Penny Marns, for they are the pioneers of the Cornish Celtic Way. This ancient pilgrimage route begins at St Germans then triumphantly ends at the majestic St Michaels Mount. How’d I know this, you may ask? Well, I’m a Schnauzer, and Schnauzers have good memories. You see I remembered meeting them before, when mum and I joined Bishop Chris’ pilgrimage across the St Michaels Way to the Mount, but I was just a puppy then….
This adventure would take us along the thirty-five miles from Polruan to Padstow, through stunning scenery following in the footsteps of the Celtic Saints of old. The early Saints arrived in Cornwall from Wales, Ireland and Brittany preaching the Gospel and establishing Christian communities here. Then in the Middle Ages Cornwall was a crossing point for pilgrims on their way through France and Spain to Santiago avoiding the treacherous waters around Land’s End. St Michaels Mount was a pilgrimage destination in its own right.
Every now and then, we came across an ancient Celtic cross, then Nigel being a fount of knowledge, would stop and gather us around the sacred spot. He would expound on Celtic Christian heritage as our happy band of pilgrims listened in awe to the stories of old. Afterwards, he laid hands on the Celtic cross praying good tidings. The other pilgrims followed suit. I wish I had hands…I must confess I left my mark in other way.
After a day or two, some Pilgrims began to tire a little, but always a church would mysteriously appear on the horizon with friendly ladies who had the kettle on and provided homemade cakes…this really was Paradise Found!
Penny, meanwhile, had done a sterling job organising all the practicalities with food supplies, our accommodation in churches and village halls as wells as back up transportation. For me, the most challenging part was trying to sleep without my usual soft fluffy bed. I’d try to cuddle up with mum on her sleeping bag in the choir stalls, but she’d turn over and I’d land on the floor! Moreover, I had to contend with the chorus of snoring rising to the heavens from all those slumbering human pilgrims….
Each morning we were up with the larks keen to press on. Halfway through out journey, we enjoyed a small detour through the Luxylyan Valley with its ethereal beechwood full of bluebells, to climb to the towering Treffry Viaduct. Even a Schnauzer can come over with the Collie-wobbles! Afterwards, we made the ascent over St Breock Downs and were blown away by the splendid views of the Atlantic coast, our destination.
The closer to we got to the magical trip’s destination, the more we seemed to have stepped outside of normal time… or maybe it was sleep deprivation, I don’t know, but it was as though we were in a parallel dimension where time stood still…. The digital detox helped too: no tv, phones, emails or cars, just walking in nature with time to stand and stare.
Before arriving at St Petrocs church Padstow, we were all lost in a field of buttercups until one Pilgrim found the style. Once we exited, we looked down at out paws and boots in amazement. A most glorious remnant of our pilgrimage remained upon us right at our journey’s end, our paws and boots were covered in golden pollen, a fitting arrival for the happy band of pilgrims!
Bertie Munro