Living-your-best-life

January Blues: The Science, the Lies and How to Feel Better Fast

Welcome to my first blog of 2026 and I must start with last night’s Northern Lights display in Cornwall. As of today, it is widely regarded as one of the best—if not the best—sightings ever recorded that far south in the UK.

A powerful geomagnetic storm, caused by a significant coronal mass ejection (CME) from the Sun, pushed the aurora unusually far south. Outside our house, the sky was illuminated with vibrant hues of pink, red, green, and purple, all visible to the naked eye. Since we live in a “dark sky” area with no light pollution, it was truly a magnificent spectacle.

Let’s move on to a topic that isn’t quite as uplifting: the January blues and the emotional slump that often accompanies this time of year. I don’t know about you, but I always disliked going back to work on January 2nd, even though I loved my job! The dark mornings, foggy London streets, rain-soaked pavements, and people bundled up, looking appropriately miserable—all contribute to that distinct January vibe. It often feels like the universe has a personal vendetta against us during this month.

January’s reputation as the “most depressing month” stems from a mix of “some” real factors: shorter days, cold, wet weather, unmet New Year’s resolutions, holiday credit card bills, and the return to daily routines. Additionally, cultural narratives, such as Blue Monday, contribute to this perception. While I don’t suggest that your problems will vanish—they won’t—this portrayal of January can make it more challenging to confront those issues effectively.

Although there is some science behind why we feel rubbish in January, much of the hype is essentially a lie. Let me explain. Take Blue Monday, the third Monday in January, for example, which is labelled the “most depressing day of the year.”

The concept was invented in 2005 by psychologist Cliff Arnall as part of a PR campaign for the UK travel company Sky Travel. He created a fake “formula” that takes into account post-holiday debt, bad weather, low motivation from failed New Year’s resolutions, and the time since Christmas to supposedly calculate the saddest day, all to encourage people to book holidays. Arnall later admitted it was nonsense and even started campaigning to “stop Blue Monday.”

The January blues story is reinforced each year through the media and social media, which can, ironically, worsen feelings by leading people to anticipate sadness. Experts and current research highlight that, although January can be challenging—mainly due to financial issues—it is not significantly worse than other winter months. Additionally, there is no confirmed increase in depression rates specifically linked to the start of January.

That said, Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) is real for many people, especially in places like the UK, where winter sunlight is limited. The key difference is that it’s tied to reduced light exposure, which disrupts circadian rhythms, serotonin, and melatonin, not some magical January curse. Importantly, it’s manageable and treatable.

So how do we dismiss the hype and feel better? Here are four behaviours that have worked for me and hopefully will help you too…

Reframe the narrative: Instead of buying into “January = doom,” view it as a normal seasonal shift. Many people feel a bit slower or more introspective in winter — it’s not failure, it’s biology. Lean into cosy, restorative vibes (think warm blankets, hot drinks, sweaty gym workouts) rather than fighting it.

Boost light and routine: Get outside during daylight hours (even on cloudy UK days). I used to ensure I walked out every lunch time as my commute to work and the return journey were both in the dark. Use a light therapy box if needed, maintain consistent sleep/exercise, and eat a balanced diet. I also take vitamin D supplements during the Winter months.

Stay connected and active: Social plans, short walks and small achievable goals counter isolation and low motivation. Mindfulness (more on that shortly) or CBT techniques can help reframe negative thoughts. My “go to” is Yoga, even if I can only squeeze in 10 minutes of breathing exercises.

Mindfulness: In this context, it means closing your eyes, even at your desk, and not only visualising your special place but fully arriving there.

My mindfulness takes me to St. Agnes Head, just a 20-minute walk from my house. It’s a stunning granite rocky outcrop, with cliffs that plunge dramatically into the Atlantic Ocean. The area already has a sense of magic, but when a double rainbow arcs across the sea, it becomes something truly transcendent. In the spirit of mindfulness, I don’t chase after the rainbow or analyse why it appears; I relax and appreciate the wonderful feeling of letting my mind wander. Where would you go?

Ultimately, ignore the sensationalised claims about the “most depressing day/month” — they’re meant to sell holidays or generate clicks, not depict the truth. Adopting a positive, action-oriented mindset- focusing on what you can control, like light, movement, and connection- can make a significant difference, just as it does with market hype. Winter ends, light comes back, and you can handle this. If you’re struggling today or any day, remember you’re not alone.

Moral of the story? January doesn’t break us; it just reminds us we’re human. And sometimes the funniest part of our new year resolution is how quickly we return to our gloriously imperfect selves.

Wishing you a rest-of-January filled with zero guilt, extra blankets, and winter walks with your loved ones. You’ve earned it.

Until next time ………

Adventures on the Cornish Coast Path: Sennen to Lamorna

Hello everyone, and welcome to another blog in my series “Adventures on the Cornish Coast Path.” This time, you’re in for a real treat as we embark on a scenic walk from Sennen to Lamorna. It’s one of the most breathtaking walks I’ve ever experienced, even though it does present some challenges.

You’ll see from my photos that we completed this section during the height of summer. It was incredibly hot, and the 12 miles (19 km) definitely tested my endurance. If you don’t want to commit to the full walk but still want to experience the best parts, you can park at Treen, walk to Sennen, and then cut back through the fields, finishing off with a pint at the Logan Rock Inn! For reference, that route is about 30,000 steps on a Fitbit. However, today, we’re tackling the full trail.

Jamie and I set off early with our backpacks filled with supplies. The atmosphere in Sennen felt quiet, with some curtains still drawn. The only sound was the distant bark of a dog and the gulls calling above the empty sands. A pale light spread over the granite cliffs, and the Atlantic Ocean was calm and still, silvery in the early morning light.

We quickly climbed and headed along the cliff tops to Land’s End. Being early, we avoided the crowds that flock to this most westerly point of mainland England. As we walked, I noticed additional safety ropes, likely installed recently to prevent dangerous selfies. In Cornwall, it’s common to see tourists risk falling by getting too close to unstable edges for selfies – apparently nothing says “holiday memories” like flirting with a 200-foot drop in the background.

Leaving Lands End, we rounded the headland and headed towards Porthcurno, immediately seeing a beautiful array of wildflowers. It’s challenging to convey the magnificence of this section, which features some of the most secluded and rugged coastlines in Cornwall. But I’ll do my best to describe it, so here goes…

The path winds along high cliffs and rocky coves, passing some of the most breathtaking beaches and fishing hamlets I’ve ever seen. Our first stop was Nanjizal, still peaceful, patiently waiting for the day’s visitors. This secluded and dramatic cove featured turquoise waters and golden sand, interspersed with boulders. The photo below captures the enchanting “Song of the Sea” rock arch, making it a hidden gem for explorers and wildlife watchers.

It was the perfect place for our first stop. A quick dip in the ice-cold sea reminded me why the Mediterranean gets all the good press. However, it was worth the effort, especially for the view of the towering granite cliffs from the water. The hot coffee from our flask was very welcome before we moved on.

The path was clearly marked, guiding us through a landscape of rolling hills and rugged beauty, and we were well-prepared for the exhilarating ascents, steep descents, and the uneven terrain beneath our boots. I wouldn’t recommend embarking on this walk in anything other than sturdy hiking boots, even in the warmth of summer.

We passed Pordenack Point and, after navigating around a dramatic headland, arrived at Gwennap Head. The Coastguard lookout there is now managed by NCI volunteers who keep an eye out for seafarers and walkers. The views were incredible; we could see the Longships Lighthouse, and, fortunately, because the weather was clear, we could also spot the Isles of Scilly (note: not “The Scilly Isles”). 😊

About 30 minutes further along, we arrived at Porthgwarra, a charming fishing hamlet that felt like a serene paradise. The narrow, secluded sandy beach glimmered in the sunlight, while small fishing boats on the slipway added a touch of maritime charm. A few fishermen’s cottages dotted the landscape, creating an enchanting atmosphere that made this little cove seem almost magical.

Believe it or not, the best was still ahead as we made our way toward Pedn Vounder and Porthcurno. It took us longer to reach this point than we’d anticipated, mainly because we kept stopping to admire the views and snap photos. Our arrival at the Minack Theatre was no exception. This beautiful, dramatic open-air amphitheatre is carved into the cliffs and offers spectacular views of the sea. It’s on our “bucket list,” but I always feel a bit nervous about buying tickets in case our show comes with a complimentary shower or two!

The walk down to Porthcurno was a bit challenging, and the beach was busy. If you close your eyes and imagine stepping into a Caribbean paradise, this is what Porthcurno looks like: powdery white sand and the clearest, most vivid emerald waters you’ve ever seen. The beach is also sheltered and generally safe for families. However, today I was happy to continue towards Lamorna, our final destination, with another six miles still to go.

After climbing up, we stopped for our packed lunch near Logan Rock, a massive balancing granite boulder with fantastic views back to Pedn Vounder and Porthcurno. It was boiling now, and the cold waters of Nanjizal were just a distant memory. You do need to pack food and water for this walk, as even experienced walkers find it challenging.

The final stretch was equally beautiful, though my inner voice, usually a polite narrator, had slipped into “toddler mode” as the heat rose. I also noticed Jamie had increased his pace, probably to put a bit of distance between us and drown out my chatter 😊.

The coast path passes above Porthguarnon Cove, which looked very tempting for another swim, but it involved a short, steep descent to the sea, which was less appealing, as it also meant a steep “up” afterwards. My least favourite part of this walk was when we got to St Loy’s cove, which had us scrambling over numerous boulders on the beach; it wasn’t easy, and my inner voice had notched up a tad!

As we climbed Rosemodress cliff, we could see Tater Du Lighthouse. A few more rocky sections later, we found ourselves heading down into Lamorna, my inner voice quieting with every step closer. I like Lamora, we’ve visited before. It’s popular with walkers, divers and photographers for its natural beauty and quieter atmosphere compared with busier Cornish beaches, BUT!!! BEWARE. The main car park sits right by the beach and quay. It’s privately owned (not managed by the council) and uses ANPR (automated number plate recognition) cameras to time your stay. So many people get caught out with extortionate parking fees, so make sure it’s not you.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this fabulous walk as much as I have—whether you joined me in person or virtually (and if it was virtual, congratulations —we’ve just clocked up seven solid hours together!). I can confirm the guidebooks weren’t exaggerating when they politely described the path as “undulating.” My inner voice had plenty to say throughout the day, but its finest moment came halfway up yet another relentless climb: “Oh, brilliant—another ascent. Because the last seventeen clearly weren’t enough!” It made me laugh out loud mid-stride, and suddenly the hill didn’t feel quite so steep.

Until next time xxxxxxxx

Feeling Directionless? These 3 Questions Will Tell You If You Need a Life Purpose (And How to Find One)

Hi everyone, and welcome to my new blog! Let’s get straight to the point and tackle the big question: Is having a purpose in life truly as important as people say, or is it just another one of those “well-being magic solutions” that don’t really work? Below are three questions. If you answer “Yes” to any of them, you should keep reading. But first, I want to acknowledge this!

In our 20s, 30s, and 40s, ‘life purpose’ is essentially just survival with added complications. We’re juggling children, dogs, cats, gerbils, demanding full-time jobs, mortgages, rising household bills, and the sacred routine of deciding what’s for dinner—twice a day, because evidently one dinner crisis isn’t enough. Somewhere between wiping noses, managing emotional baggage, and trying to find the TV remote that somehow ended up in the fridge, we occasionally squeeze in a gym session or a rare four hours of sleep, all while contemplating life’s purpose 😊

That said, why not test yourself anyway? You never know; it might make a difference, and if any of these resonate, it’s time to act.

Do you feel “stuck”? Life seems like a routine or obligation rather than an exciting journey.
Do you lack motivation? You struggle to start or complete tasks, even those you used to enjoy.
Do you find yourself living for the future? You’re always waiting for “when I retire/get rich/finish studying,” instead of finding joy in the present.
Do achievements feel hollow or meaningless because they don’t reflect your true self?
Do you feel a strong urge to change something, even if you’re unsure what, or feel frustrated by global problems?

Since you’re still here, I assume you’ve started to see how having a purpose can turn life’s random events into a meaningful story. Many studies show that a sense of purpose gives you resilience amid chaos, direction in uncertainty, and a steady belief that your life matters.

But firstly, let’s clarify exactly what we’re talking about here and not mix identity with purpose. For example, I’m a travel writer and lifestyle blogger, a mum, a wife, and a nana. That’s my identity. Before I retired, I was a sales leader, helping technology companies to grow.

A purpose is what gives life meaning. For example, I write my blog to help people live their best lives, despite their individual challenges, which include my own struggle with an autoimmune disease. I also strive to support my family as much as possible, without interfering, and to help guide my grandchildren through the challenges of growing up.

Although I may seem organised to you, I honestly didn’t know who I was or what my purpose was for most of my life; this is a challenge many of us face. Some people know instinctively that they want a career in medicine, human rights, or medical research, where their identity and purpose come together. For most of us, this isn’t the case, so to help you on your way, here are some examples to guide you in discovering your own purpose. It’s important to point out that a purpose in life doesn’t have to be linked to helping others; it can be entirely personal and self-focused.

Pursuing personal excellence — Dedicate your life to becoming exceptionally skilled at something that matters to you, such as mastering a craft (e.g., playing a musical instrument, woodworking, art, photography or athletic training). The purpose comes from the ongoing challenge, improvement, and sense of competence it provides.

Maximising personal pleasure and happiness: Seek out experiences that bring joy, like travelling or engaging in hobbies purely for enjoyment (inspired by Epicurean philosophy, which emphasises a tranquil life of moderate pleasures without excess).

Achieving self-defined success and ambition: Build wealth, advance in a career, or accomplish ambitious personal goals (e.g., starting a business, reaching financial independence, or gaining recognition in a field).

Embracing a life of autonomy and freedom: Prioritise independence, making your own rules, and avoiding constraints to live on your terms—whether through minimalism, adventure, or rejecting societal expectations.

Finding your purpose doesn’t need to come from a mountaintop epiphany; it often starts with curiosity and the willingness to try things until something clicks. Go out, experiment, and aim to live a better life. Follow what feels right and let go of what doesn’t. For many of us, it’s the small, quiet moments that matter most. So, step away from this blog and decide on one action you’ll take today.

Thank you so much for reading and reflecting with me. I’ll be back with you shortly, but in the meantime, go and chase what lights you up.

Until next time xxxxxx

Wild, Lonely and Utterly Addictive: Cornwall in Winter

As all my readers know, I live in Cornwall, the furthest southwest county in England. For any new readers, you’re in for a virtual journey through the magnificence of this wonderful region. Living here allows me to experience the unique beauty of each season. Spring, with its abundance of wildflowers; the splendour of summer, with our world-class beaches; and the serene beauty of autumn, with its dramatic golden light, fewer crowds than in summer, and a wide variety of wildlife sightings.

But you might be wondering, “What about winter”? So brace yourself. This blog explores the true experience of walking the Cornish coast path in this ferocious season and explains why it can be utterly addictive. Winter is when Cornwall’s coast is reserved for the brave, and here are my 4 top reasons why it’s worth experiencing.

Mirrors of the Flood

Winter light is ideal for reflections because it comes low, clear, and almost at a right angle. The rainwater reflections are stunning, transforming an ordinary scene into a masterpiece. For me, it’s my favourite season for photography, and I experiment every time I go out.

Every puddle becomes a dark mirror that captures the sky and inverts it, pressing clouds and fleeting shards of winter light into a trembling, liquid frame. Its beauty is born of imperfection, and each of my photos is unique and cannot be repeated.

Halos of Winter

Winter rainbows over the Cornish sea are breathtaking. They often appear suddenly after a squall has passed. The bow is broader and flatter than any summer rainbow, featuring fiercely vivid colours, prompting you to recite the little rhyme that helps remember their order. Frequently, there’s a double rainbow, with the fainter secondary arch glowing outside the first one, resembling upside-down smiles. I don’t know why this phenomenon affects me so deeply, but rainbows make me happy. It feels as if the ocean and the sky are saying, “Look, I can be beautiful too,” and you believe it—at least until the rain returns. 😊

The Oceans Cry

Out on the path, wrapped in salt mist and standing on a headland, the ocean outshouts the chatter in your head until only the vast boom, drag, and hush remains, making you feel alive.

I love to stand and watch each wave gather itself miles out, a rolling hill of cold blue glass, which then hurls its full force against the cliffs, a deep BOOM that reverberates through the rock. It’s never the same twice; sometimes a quick, vicious slap, sometimes a slow, deliberate avalanche of sound that continues to build long after you thought it had peaked.

I will let the evidence speak for itself regarding the benefits, but let me share this one thing. The irregular rhythm prevents your pulse from settling into the familiar pattern of anxiety. Instead, you’re breathing gradually aligns with the 7- to 14-second gaps between impacts. Scientists refer to this phenomenon as “pink noise,” which has a soothing frequency profile similar to that of steady rainfall or a heartbeat. Research has shown that pink noise can enhance sleep quality and reduce stress hormones. Since moving to Cornwall, my sleep has improved significantly!

The Howling Gale

The winter wind along the coast path electrifies you. It rips the hood off your head, fills your coat like a sail, and tries to shove you backwards into the gorse. Thankfully, our winds are mostly onshore, blowing us into the gorse rather than the sea! It often makes my eyes stream, and conversation becomes impossible; the wind steals the words and flings them out over the drop. You’re not thinking about tomorrow’s emails or yesterday’s regrets; you are simply a creature negotiating with a much larger creature, and for once, the negotiation feels fair. When you finally turn a corner, and the wind eases for a moment, you feel like you’ve emerged into a stunned, breathless hush.

There’s also the charming Cornish villages with their slate roofs covered in frost and smoke gently curling from their chimneys. The surfers are wonderful to watch as they ride the Atlantic swells, which arrive big, clean, and uncrowded. The harbours lie quiet, with smaller fishing boats resting peacefully, many adorned with beautiful Christmas light displays.

Walking the Cornish coast in winter truly makes you feel vibrantly alive. Within just ten minutes, the refreshing weather clears your mind, filling it with salt, cold light, and the steady beat of your own heart, in sync with the rhythm of the Atlantic. You return windburned, soaked, and almost deaf from the strong gales, yet exhilarated by the fresh air. You have nothing with you but the assurance that you have been rejuvenated by something far older and more powerful than yourself.

Until next time xxxx

Adventures on the Cornish Coast Path: Mullion Cove to Lizard Point

If you’d like to hear about rare Cornish choughs, a cuckoo, stunning wildflowers, breathtaking cliffs, daredevil cows, and the UK’s most photographed beach, join me for a walk from Mullion Cove to Lizard Point on a warm late June day.

As part of our adventures hiking the entire Cornish coastal path, my husband Jamie and I walked this stunning 11km stretch on the south coast. Typically, since the north coast faces the Atlantic, it’s better for surfing, while the south coast, facing the calmer waters of the English Channel, offers sheltered coves and harbours ideal for sailing. Our starting point at Mullion Cove exemplified this.

The lovely morning air greeted us with a gentle, refreshing coolness on our faces. Beyond the cheerful birdsong, a peaceful silence enveloped us; the sea was calm and welcoming, and we set out on our walk while others were still enjoying their breakfast. We stood on the concrete quay in front of the old pilchard cellars, which are now a café, and breathed in the salty sea air.

We knew this section wasn’t as difficult as some of the others we’d walked, and the climb out of Mullion was probably the hardest part of the day. It’s a wide stone-and-earth staircase, and we paused halfway up the cliff to look back and enjoy the classic postcard view of the harbour and Mullion Island with its natural rock arch.

We reached the open heathland at Predannack Cliff, where we spotted an adder. Jamie had previously been bitten on the heel by an adder, so we always stay alert for them. Fortunately, he was fine that day, but we discovered some interesting facts. Most adder bites in the UK are “dry” bites, causing minimal or no venom injection. It seems they are reserving their venom for hunting prey, which is a smart strategy. I’m also learning to recognise different wildflowers, and this walk didn’t disappoint. We quickly saw my favourite, the scarlet pimpernel, and Jamie’s favourite, wild orchids.

I can’t fully describe the scenery with words, so I hope you enjoy my photos. The sky was mostly clear, and the light was bright but not harsh because the sun was still rising. Below us, the sea reflected the sky almost perfectly, with deep sapphire waters near the shore that gradually lightened into aquamarine as the sand beneath became visible. It was paradise, and we’d only just begun.

After an extended photo stop that was longer than planned, we continued towards Kynance Cove. The trail crosses into National Trust land and the Lizard National Nature Reserve, where we spotted our first Cornish choughs. These birds always bring a smile as they forage through cow dung. They are also an iconic symbol of Cornwall, appearing on our coat of arms and in local legends. Once very rare, their numbers have risen significantly in recent years. We also saw cows, undoubtedly responsible for the dung, living quite literally on the edge – admiring the cliff-top views. This made me feel slightly nervous, but they seemed to know what they were doing.

We found this to be a fairly gentle section, with only one descent that was a bit tricky. We stopped halfway down to listen to a cuckoo. I hadn’t heard a real cuckoo before, and it sounded exactly like hearing a cuckoo clock, just with less predictability. It did make me laugh when I realised that the mechanical, hourly chime you associate with quaint German craftsmanship is a direct, albeit rigid, imitation of a wild bird with no regard for your schedule.

After the cuckoo excitement, the ascent was relatively easy, and once at the top, we followed the coast path along the cliffs to find a nice rock to sit on to enjoy the coffee and biscuits we’d brought with us. It’s tempting to cut straight across the heathland here, but doing so means missing out on the most spectacular views and perfect spots to pause.

We heard a drone overhead; luckily, it wasn’t someone spying on our peace. We were close to Predannack airfield, where the Royal Naval Air Squadron tests its drones to explore their future potential. If you’re fortunate, you might also glimpse an F-35 flying overhead after taking off from nearby Helston.

The day was warming up, and I had remembered my hat. If you’ve read my other blogs, you’ll know that’s not always the case! We headed towards Kynance and couldn’t believe what we saw. The car park was so crowded that even seagulls were circling in frustration, and the beach looked as if it had been sprinkled with people instead of sand.

Kynance Cove is one of the most photographed (Instagrammed) beaches in the UK. It looks almost perfect, like a film set. Towering serpentine rock stacks and islands rise straight out of the sand like natural sculptures. At low tide, they form arches and small turquoise lagoons. The sand is nearly white, reminiscent of the Caribbean, and today, in the sunshine, the vivid contrast made it appear oversaturated even in real life. It’s regularly voted one of the world’s most beautiful beaches, and because the cove faces west, it’s a photographer’s favourite at sunset.

Anyway, I diverge, we descended and ascended in record time until we were back up high, looking down on the chaos below.

The path remained high on the cliffs, offering stunning views of Asparagus Island and the stacks below, and we had now decided it was time for our packed lunch. There is a café at Kynance, but as you’ve probably guessed, we decided to give it a miss 😊

After our cheese and tomato sandwiches, we set off and observed the coast path becoming more rugged, with jagged, serpentine rock cliffs showing shades of red, green, and purple. About 20 minutes later, we arrived at a wooden viewing platform overlooking the Devil’s Frying Pan—a collapsed sea cave with a natural rock arch, making it a worthwhile short detour from the main trail. The path gradually descends until we reach the ruins of the old Polpeor lifeboat station, which sits dramatically above a steep slipway leading into the sea. We had visited here once before in winter when the sea was rougher, giving the scene an eerie atmosphere. From this point, we faced a short, steep climb back to the clifftop, where the White Lizard Lighthouse suddenly appeared above us.

The trail then carried us past the lighthouse, and this is where I conclude my blog, at the southernmost point in Britain, where you can stand without getting wet. The hike is over, the views were unforgettable, and the final life-changing moment was finding a bus back to our car! Oh, and when we finally reached our car, we couldn’t resist stopping at the chocolate factory just outside Mullion for tea and cake!

Until the next hike xxxxx

Uncomfortable truths no one will tell you, but you need to hear!

Hello everyone! I’m excited to introduce my new blog. I’ll discuss the boots in more detail a bit later, so stay tuned—it’s worth the wait 😊.

I’m writing this on the day I should have been flying to Jamaica. Jamie and I have been lucky to visit this beautiful country many times; it was our favourite island for complete relaxation amid our busy, full-on work lives. For me, Jamaica has an unrivalled vibe — sunlit beaches, warm waters, reggae rhythms, and friendly Jamaicans with big smiles that make every moment feel like paradise. Tourism is crucial for their economy, but Hurricane Melissa has caused devastating damage, tragically affecting many livelihoods. Recovery will take time, and there are various ways to help. Be cautious of fraudulent websites; if you want to contribute, research your sources carefully, and the people of Jamaica will be forever grateful.

Now, let’s discuss the topic of my blog: those uncomfortable truths we uncover as we get older. I’ve kept it short, concise and straightforward. Personally, I don’t like reading long, complex sentences when fewer words can convey the point. Let’s go….

No one is riding in on a white horse; fix your own life. We all need to take ownership of every broken area to rebuild something stable, purposeful and satisfying.
Excuses don’t settle debts; only relentless effort does. “I’m too tired, the economy is bad, my boss doesn’t like me”. Every excuse is a permission to stay broke.
Comfort zones feel like shelters, but they kill every ounce of your potential. Growth and development require facing challenges and embracing discomfort, which is precisely what the comfort zone helps you avoid.
Happiness requires effort; it doesn’t come automatically. It’s not a default setting; it’s a skill you build through deliberate effort.
If you can’t control your emotions, you’ll always be controlled. Emotional self-regulation is crucial for maintaining personal autonomy and not being overly influenced by external circumstances or other people’s actions
Not everyone who smiles at you is your friend. Their smile can mask insincere or negative intentions, such as jealousy or a desire to take advantage of you. Never take criticism from someone you wouldn’t take advice from.
Failure is an integral part of success, not its opposite. Every achievement involves setbacks, mistakes or failures along the way. You don’t succeed despite failure; you grow because of it.
Money can buy comfort, not peace. Peace comes from strong relationships, a sense of life purpose and meaning, self-acceptance, and emotional resilience. All of which are not for sale.

I know these are harsh truths, but they’re also true. If your day isn’t going well, review these eight facts to remind yourself that you hold the power to improve the situation.

Finally, I apologise for making you scroll through all of that if you only wanted to hear about my boots. They were an impulsive purchase made ten years ago, and I’ve only worn them once. Can you imagine me stumbling down the street to the pub in St Agnes or arriving at a dinner party on a fancy wooden floor, each step leaving a tiny mark? I wonder what I was thinking when I bought them. Maybe I pictured a red-carpet event or a premiere I’d attend. It’s possible I had a cocktail dress code in mind, a fashion shoot, or a fancy restaurant with valet parking. Now that I realise I’m more the pub type —enjoying a good pint rather than a £25 cocktail —it feels a bit sad that I’ll never wear them, but you never know —watch this space!

Until next time, xxxx

Adventures on the Cornish Coast Path: Perranporth to Portreath

Hi everyone, I’m back with another enjoyable walk as part of my series “Adventures on the Cornish Coast Path”. This time, I’ll lead you from Perranporth to Portreath, stopping at my favourite places along the way. I’ve walked this route many times, particularly the stretch from St Agnes to Chapel Porth, since St Agnes is my home. If you’re hiking the whole South West Coastal Path, I recommend following the suggested coastal path sections, but if you’re not on a fixed schedule, spending a night in St Agnes is definitely worth it. Why? Read my previous post.

This 12.2-mile route offers breathtaking cliff-top views, charming remnants of the historic tin mining industry, intriguing geology, and opportunities to spot wildlife, including seabirds—razorbills, guillemots, and kittiwakes—as well as rare bats in old mine shafts. The hike is moderately challenging, with an elevation gain of about 2,093 feet, and usually takes 6 to 6.5 hours at a steady pace. It’s a good idea to leave some extra time for rests and memorable photos. In my opinion, the last section is the most difficult, so you need to take on fuel at my recommended stops 😊.

Let’s start at Perranporth Beach, a stunning, wide, sandy stretch ideal for surfing. You’ll notice the Watering Hole pub, a lovely spot to enjoy the sunset in the evening. During the summer, Jamie and I have taken the bus from St Agnes and relaxed on the fantastic decking, listening to lively Cornish music. It’s also where Tunes in the Dunes takes place, one of Cornwall’s many vibrant music festivals.

I love dividing walks into sections, and this route naturally breaks into five main parts based on key landmarks. Let’s go.

Follow the acorn signs up a steep staircase and grassy paths that veer away from Perranporth’s dunes, passing by the airfield. The terrain gradually rises along rugged cliffs, offering our first glimpses of the Atlantic and remnants of the historic 19th-century Wheal Leisure mine. The industrial history here is quite striking, with old chimneys dotting the landscape. The path remains fairly flat along the clifftop until we reach Cligga Head, a fascinating promontory with dramatic drops and unique pillow lava formations from ancient volcanic activity. While geology enthusiasts might find this intriguing, for me, it’s not particularly photogenic, so I prefer to move on.

From Cligga Head, we make our way to Trevaunane Cove, St Agnes’s finest beach. The trail winds through fascinating mining relics, including the mysterious “bat castles” (sealed shafts that serve as roosting spots for rare horseshoe bats). The path hugs a narrow, sometimes exhilarating cliff edge with breathtaking drops, but don’t worry—it’s carefully maintained. If you prefer to stay a bit safer, there’s a higher path that’s not so close to the edge. As you arrive at Trevaunance Cove, you’ll find a lovely café (the one in my photo), perfect for a relaxing late breakfast, early lunch, or a quick energy-boosting coffee. It’s a wonderful spot to unwind and soak in the stunning coastal views.

Feeling refreshed and energised, we’re now on our way to Chapel Porth, where we’ll face a lovely but fairly steep climb from the cove up to the’ rock ‘ at the top. I’ve captured more photos here on my phone than anywhere else! You can see all the way across to the golden sands of Perranporth- even on a cloudy day, it appears sunny because of the bright sand. The path gently winds along the cliffs towards St Agnes Head and offers spectacular views of the coast, with sea, green fields, and purple and yellow heathland in spring and summer. For fans of Demelza and Ross, as you continue your walk, you’ll recognise parts of Poldark filmed here, including the famous Wheal Coates engine house.

The walk down into Chapel Porth offers breathtaking views. At low tide, you’ll see a vast stretch of sand with rock pools and caves, popular with surfers and families. However, at high tide, the beach can almost vanish completely, with waves crashing against the shore near the slipway. I absolutely love the National Trust café — perfect for a “croque monsieur” or their renowned hedgehog ice cream.

Next, enjoy a lovely short hike to Porthtowan. After ascending from Chapel Porth, the trail stays high along the cliffs, providing stunning ocean views and chances to see seals basking offshore, and you’ll continue to notice remnants of the mining history. The path gently rolls with a few quick dips into small, steep gullies called coombs. When the surf’s up, the beach at Porthtowan becomes lively and inviting, with golden sands surrounded by towering cliffs. If you picked up some food and drinks at Trevaunance and Chapel Porth earlier—great choices—you’ll be well set. But don’t forget to check out the Blue Bar too; its outdoor seating setup makes it the perfect spot to relax at any time of day, whether morning, noon, or early evening.

If I do the whole hike, I’ll be feeling it by now, especially after spending more time than I should, people-watching outside the Blue Bar. This last part isn’t easy either; it usually takes me about 1.5 to 2 hours on a good day! I’m sure most people do it quicker. I’ve even tackled it in the pouring rain, ending up muddy and on my bum, but I guess that’s all part of the adventure!

Once again, after the ascent, you head west along the clifftops, crossing charming valleys. The terrain gradually becomes more rugged, with uneven steps and open areas where the wind can pick up, so hold onto your hat if it’s a breezy day. Personally, I find some parts of this walk a bit dull, especially when the path runs close to the old Ministry of Defence site. It’s certainly a contrast to the more dramatic, picturesque coves and wide beaches you’ll find elsewhere along the stunning Cornish coast.

When you reach Droskyn Point, you can see Portreath’s harbour, a 19th-century centre for exporting ore that is now a yacht basin with crashing waves. The path descends through a series of steps and lanes into Portreath. If you’re staying here, Portreath has a great stretch of sand and some good pubs.

You might also celebrate with one of my favourite pastimes. Imagine this! A lovely evening as the sun sets over the sea, casting orange and pink hues across the sky, while you hold a steaming parcel of fish and chips wrapped in crisp paper, warming your hands. The fish flakes easily under a golden, crispy coating, with a delicate taste that blends with the salt and vinegar’s tang. The chips, golden and soft inside, have just the right amount of crunch, offering comforting starchy goodness. The watchful seagulls overhead, their cries blending with the sound of the surf, as you enjoy this simple, soul-warming meal. Your legs may ache from the day’s walking, but each bite feels like a reward, grounding you in this fleeting moment where the wild Cornish coast and hearty food come together.

11 Irresistible Reasons to Walk the Cornish Coastal Path

Looking for a new adventure? Let me share why the Cornish Coast Path is such a fantastic choice, full of vivid, first-hand details from someone who has walked the walk in all seasons, yes, including Winter.

Let’s start with some practical facts. The Cornish Coast Path stretches over 300 miles (480 km), winding along England’s beautiful southwestern coastline. It’s a cliffside trail that takes you through lovely coves and beaches that can rival those in the Caribbean. More than just a walk, this adventure surrounds you with a stunning landscape shaped by the powerful Atlantic Ocean—where every step reveals wild, breathtaking scenery, a deep sense of history, and an exciting array of sensory experiences.

Everyone has their preferred timeline. On my walks, I’ve encountered many hikers who, like me, have completed the trek in sections over months or even years. I’ve also met those walking the entire South West Coast Path in one go and others walking from Land’s End to John O’Groats. Whatever your journey, I hope you find this blog useful insight.

The most common itinerary usually includes 30–35 stages, each designed for an average walker covering 8–15 miles (13–24 km) daily. Be ready for notable elevation gains, often around 2,000–3,000 ft (600–900 m), due to the terrain’s lively ‘rollercoaster’ nature. Each stage typically concludes in a quaint town or village, offering charming options like B&Bs, pubs or some of the best camp sites in the UK. You can choose to hike from west to east or vice versa; just keep in mind that the north coast is more rugged and exposed, while the south provides a richer variety of scenery.

So, why choose the Cornish Coastal Path? Here are my 11 reasons why this walk might just steal your heart. From my own experience, being surrounded by nature feels incredibly revitalising. I’m now semi-retired, but back when I was working full-time in London, our walking holidays in Cornwall made a much bigger difference in relieving my stress than other trips. Anyway, I’ll stop rambling now- you get the idea. Here we go!

Imagine towering cliffs dropping into sparkling, turquoise seas, where waves crash with a mighty roar. At Land’s End, the path gently nudges you to England’s westernmost tip, with the Longships Lighthouse standing proudly through the mist like a brave sentinel from a fairytale.
As you explore, you’ll find secret coves and hidden beaches. Kynance Cove features serpentine rocks and shimmering pools that sparkle under the sun. Meanwhile, Porthcurno boasts white sands and bright aquamarine waters that are often voted among the best beaches in the UK. On hot days, we often stop for a quick dip, so be sure to have your swimmers in your bag at all times.
Headlands such as Cape Cornwall or Tintagel offer breathtaking views where the horizon seems to go on forever. Watch seals lounge on rocks and gannets plunge like arrows into the foam. Sunsets here fill the sky with fiery oranges and purples, turning the trail into a golden ribbon of memories.
The air buzzes with the scent of salt and wildflowers, apart from in Winter when you get covered in sea salt. In spring, the land is alive with carpets of heather, gorse, and thrift, bursting with vibrant purples and yellows, buzzing with busy bees and fluttering butterflies. Summer wildflowers fill the air with lovely scents, and come autumn, the bracken turns a warm russet hue.
The sounds of roaring waves, calling gulls, and seals’ distant breaths create a lively wilderness symphony. At night, under starry skies—the dark skies of Cornwall are perfect for stargazing—the path feels enchanted with whispers of the night.
Keep an eye out for playful porpoises jumping through waves, soaring ravens overhead, and rare choughs with their striking red beaks. In spring, adorable puffins nest on offshore islands like the Isles of Scilly, just a ferry ride away.
Walk in the footsteps of old Bronze Age miners at Botallack’s Crowns Engine Houses—haunting ruins perched on cliff edges, remnants of 18th-century tin mines that once powered the Industrial Revolution.
Explore Smuggler’s coves, like Perranporth, where stories of secret brandy runs echo through time. Meanwhile, Tintagel Castle, linked to King Arthur, rises dramatically from the cliffs, its jagged ruins creating a sense of Camelot amidst the crashing surf.
Discover ancient Iron Age forts and medieval chapels dotted along the route. Don’t miss the Minack Theatre—an open-air amphitheatre carved right into the cliffs in the 1930s, where performances echo over the sea below.
Savour delicious Cornish pasties—hearty pastries filled with beef, potatoes, and swede—served at cosy harborside inns, often paired with local ales like Skinner’s Betty Stogs. Fresh catch like lobster, crab, and mussels are grilled over beach fires in charming spots like St Ives. The seagulls do like to join you, so be on your guard.
Finally, don’t miss the charming whitewashed fishing villages with flower-draped cottages and narrow lanes. St Michael’s Mount is also a “must”, a tidal island castle that’s accessible at low tide, offering a magical glimpse into Cornwall’s rich history.

And there you go! That’s why hiking in Cornwall is such a great choice, with these wonderful reasons to give it a shot. Take that well-earned break from work, grab your boots, and get ready for an adventure! Hiking holidays let you earn your pints, while beach holidays can leave you sandy and sunburned. It’s all about enjoying the best of both worlds!

Happy Exploring xxxx until next time.

Adventures on the Cornish Coast Path: Bude to Crackington Haven

Jamie and I are walking the Cornish part of the South West Coastal Path. We still have a few sections left to complete, mostly the more challenging ones 😊. For me, hiking is my salvation as it helps me stay strong. Many years ago, I was diagnosed with the autoimmune condition Ankylosing Spondylitis (AS), with complete fusion of both sacroiliac joints. AS is an autoimmune inflammatory disease that causes the bones in the spine to fuse. When I was diagnosed, I decided my life was not just about managing but thriving, as living in constant pain is tough. I write my blogs as a survival guide for the soul, but with grit and determination, providing readers with the tools they need to reclaim their best life.

Over the next year, I intend to write a blog about each section. Sometimes, when I research a new hike, I find the information quite “fluffy”. I prefer reading the raw guide — what the walker experienced, in ways that glossy brochures and books never can. I want to understand nature’s harsh realities beyond sanitised words, and that’s what I aim to provide.

Last summer, we began a challenging day hike from Bude to Crackington Haven, which is considered one of the most difficult sections of the trail. Bude is a common starting point for walkers on the Cornwall section of the South West Coast Path. We left our home in St Agnes at 7:45 a.m. to catch the 9:23 a.m. bus to Bude. To avoid the return walk, we parked our car in Crackington Haven and planned to retrieve it afterwards- details of this choice will become clear as you read further.

After a pleasant bus journey with coffee in hand, we headed towards Widemouth Bay, a rugged stretch of golden sands and dramatic cliffs. The early scent of seaweed mixed with the soft breeze hinted at a warm day ahead! I knew from our research on this section that this gentle start should not lead us to believe the whole day would be like this. The Southwest Coastal Path notes described it as challenging and strenuous, and I’d visualised the triumph of completing it as I prepared to push beyond my comfort zone 😊.

Lo and behold, my comfort zone was shattered early. We ascended steeply to Compass Point (100m climb), where a lookout hut offered our first vertigo-inducing views. The path hugged the grassy clifftops, with sheer drops of 100-200m, and gorse scratched my legs. The descent was equally brutal into Widemouth Bay, testing my balance. I couldn’t take my eyes off the ground; constant vigilance was essential, and it was like “the view”—what VIEW?

Now for the juicy part! The middle part of the hike was like a relentless rollercoaster that went on and on and on for hours! Well, at least 2! We climbed Penhalt Cliff (a 200m ascent, one of the steepest on the route), my lungs now burning on the uneven steps carved into the slate. We passed Dizzard Point and descended to secluded Chipman Strand (a rocky cove accessible only at low tide), only to start climbing AGAIN! The views were stunning, but it was hot; I’d forgotten my hat, and I’d started to moan a bit!

On the rare occasions you’re on the flat, one of the things I love most about walking the coastal path is the wide, open views of the Atlantic, where you’re always aware of the force of the sea and the winds. This walk didn’t disappoint. The heat had ramped up, and the sea was calm for the North Coast, but it still looked wild and feral when we stopped and gazed at the different shades of blue, taking a moment to catch our breath. We also had our packed lunch since we were starving.

Unbelievable, I know, but the hardest part of this hike comes last. We were climbing AGAIN to High Cliff (at 223m, the highest point on Cornwall’s coast), but at the top, we were rewarded with panoramic views of Tintagel. Then, guess what, another “plunge” into the “Valley of the Rocks”

Then I saw it! All my Christmases arriving at once, A sign – “Crackington Haven 2 miles”

Two miles isn’t very far, is it? But whoever put up this sign was clearly joking! To me, those two miles felt like the longest I’ve ever walked. Looking back, I see that wasn’t entirely accurate, but they were definitely tough. At one point, I genuinely thought Crackington Haven had moved 10 miles further along the coast, especially after a group of four hikers we met during another rest shared that same view.

“Are we nearly there”? I found myself asking, then laughed at the childishness of what I’d just said.

Jamie could see on the map that only one steep coombe should remain between us and our car. My glutes and quads were burning from all the “ups,” and my toes felt bruised because my feet pressed forward into my boots on the endless downward slopes. The walk itself is only 10.2 miles long, but with a total elevation gain and loss of around 900-1,000 metres or 3,000 feet, and by now we’d been walking for over six hours! To put the elevation into perspective, Scafell Pike (England’s highest mountain) stands at 3,209 feet.

As the trail curved around the 400-foot Pencarrow Point, we finally caught sight of Crackington Haven and, even better, our car! We were treated to breathtaking views of Hartland Point and Lundy Valley, with valleys below teeming with purple heather and yellow gorse. At the top, the last incline was gruelling and my lungs were plotting rebellion. But here’s why hiking is so beneficial for my AS: it releases a mix of exhaustion and triumph, along with a deep sense of achievement. Every pain melts away as endorphins flood in, humbling me with a reminder of my own resilience.

Crackington Haven looked just as stunning from the ground as it did from high up on the cliffs. The sunshine heightened its charm. The cove resembled a painter’s watercolour dream. The pub appeared so inviting, and we couldn’t resist; the beer felt like liquid salvation poured straight from the gods of refreshment.

Until the next trail calls….. xxxx

Chasing Alpine Dreams: An unforgettable hiking adventure in Slovenia’s Julian Alps

We had a fantastic week hiking in the Julian Alps of Slovenia, exploring breathtaking lakes, rivers, mountain trails, waterfalls, alpine meadows, and deep gorges. As a child, I was captivated by old movies featuring a cherry-red Alfa Romeo convertible driven by Cary Grant, with Audrey Hepburn, as they wound through the Alps with verdant valleys beneath. These majestic mountains have always been a personal favourite.

Like all adventures, our hiking came with some challenges, but the memories we’ve made will last forever. We encountered some unseasonal rain, yet it also brought unexpected joys, such as the misty trails sparkling in the lush greenery. The rain also meant our Day 2 hike was transformed into a cascade of splendour, more on this later.

We arrived at our first location, Kranjska Gora, and I immediately fell in love with it, despite the cloudy skies above. In the early autumn colours, I felt I’d arrived in a serene alpine haven, where vibrant golden and crimson foliage was blanketing the Julian Alps, creating a tranquil ambience that was perfect for our hiking days ahead, even in the rain.

Our taxi from Ljubljana Airport took us to our first hotel, situated near the foothills of Mount Vitranc and just a short stroll from the lively village centre. In winter, Kranjska Gora turns into a world-class ski resort, while in the warmer months, it becomes an outdoor haven where cyclists, walkers, and hikers mingle. The family-run hotel was warm and inviting, and our room featured a balcony where you could step out, enjoy the fresh mountain air, and take in the scent of the pine forests above.

Our flight from London Gatwick was very early. When I say early, I needed two shots of espresso to help me navigate the airport. The upside was that we unpacked and were ready to start our first walk by 1 p.m. local time. The hike to Lake Fusine would cross the border into Italy, which sounded rather exciting. I’d read about the beautiful, crystal-clear waters with dramatic mountain reflections, but on arrival, we could barely see the lake or the mountains. 😊

Instead of taking photos, we sought shelter in the charming alpine mountain hut, and once we felt suitably refreshed, we set off at a brisk pace, eager to escape the heavy rain and the occasional clap of thunder. We were somewhat worried about how we would dry out for the next day’s hike, but we need not have been. The hotel had a drying room (apparently something skiers use), and everything was dry, ready for us to hike the next day after one of the best breakfasts we’ve ever had!

I promised a silver lining, and here it is. As we set off, it became apparent that the heavy rain had transformed the waterfalls into stunning cascades, with silvery streams plunging into shimmering pools below, all set against towering moss-covered cliffs. The torrents roared like thunder, sending up a misty veil that enveloped us as we continued upwards on our second day’s hike. This walk was fantastic, and the worst of the rain held off until we were on our way back. Once again, the “drying room” was our saviour.

Kranjska Gora offers a selection of excellent restaurants. Jamie and I also enjoy a pre-dinner beer, and we found the best bar for prime people-watching. Bar Pristavec is the quintessential locals’ pub; a cosy, no-frills spot where weathered alpine villagers exchange stories over laid-back tunes. By the time we moved on, we felt like locals.

The walk to our next location, Lake Bohinj, was one of our favourites. Apine meadows stretched out before us with cowbells ringing gently in the fields around us. I always feel a bit sorry for the cows that get allocated bells; it must be irritating having a bell ring every time you move. Nice for us walkers though!

Upon our arrival, the lake’s tranquil beauty was evident even amidst the clouds. The emerald green waters were notably clear, allowing us to see the lakebed in the shallower regions. We were also fortunate enough to witness the stunning limestone peaks as the clouds parted for a few hours on our second day. Additionally, we were treated to the captivating sound of Slovenian singing during dinner. A group staying at the hotel spontaneously chose to entertain us with harmonious, melodic Slovenian folk music, which is a vital part of the country’s rich musical heritage. This also encouraged us to linger and enjoy more of the red wine on offer.

Our final stop was Lake Bled, and the hike to get there was equally enjoyable. Our hotel was nestled at the far end of the lake, away from the hustle and bustle. It occupied a prime position that truly captured the alpine serenity and romance, just like the old movies I remembered from my childhood. The view from our balcony was breathtaking, and remarkably, the sun was shining. We were close enough to stroll along the lakeside, yet elevated enough for picture-perfect views.

The walk from Bled to Vintgar Gorge was delightful, and that evening we dined at our hotel, where our meal was included. The restaurant’s ambience reflected the hotel’s century-old history. It created a historic, cosy atmosphere with panoramic lake views. We had met other walkers during our hiking holiday, and it was lovely to catch up over a drink in such stunning surroundings.

On our final night in Bled, we discovered a restaurant that served burgers, fries, chocolate cake, and beer. It was the perfect meal to cap off a wonderful week. And yes, you guessed it: the sun shone brightly as we made our way to the airport for our return flight home.

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