Outstanding Circular Walks in Cornwall Video Series
Welcome to the second post in a brand-new series with outdoor enthusiast and storyteller Dan Smedley aka @bimblingbooksbeer. Dan is exploring some of the most scenic and characterful routes from the Outstanding Circular Walks in Cornwall Pathfinder Guidebook.
Walking the Helford, Little Dennis & Manaccan Circular
There’s a stretch of the Cornish coast that never fails to slow me down.
It’s the part where river becomes sea, where the woodland leans toward salt air, and where the walk from Helford to Little Dennis and Manaccan winds through some of the most peaceful corners of south Cornwall.
This five-mile circular was one of those routes that, once I’d found it in the Pathfinder Guide, I knew I had to try. For years, I’d looked across at this shoreline from places like Glendurgan, Trebah Gardens, and The Ferry Boat Inn. If I’m honest, I’d often stood on Grebe Beach and assumed the little coves I could see, the ones that appeared only when the tide slipped away, were all private. They looked far too perfect to be open to the public.
It’s route number 8, one of those understated loops that hides its magic behind a modest mileage and a promise of “moderate terrain.” But like most Cornish walks, that description doesn’t tell the half of it.
A calm start in a sleepy village
I parked up in Helford on a still autumn morning, the kind where mist lingers above the water and the clink of moored boats carries through the air. The Pathfinder Guide makes it easy to locate the start, and the car park is modestly priced at £4 for 24 hours (or free between November and April). To the left of the car park, a narrow lane leads straight onto the coast path, and within minutes the world feels quieter.
The track climbs gently through oak and ash woodland, the estuary glints through the trees and the waters crystal clear, like the whole ocean’s been put through a Brita filter. This is one of those routes that instantly gives you a warm hug. Every bend reveals another glimpse of paradise: pale mudflats, mossy trunks, and that soft, green light unique to Cornish woodland.
Hidden coves and quiet beauty
Soon the path drops toward the first of the river’s secret beaches, Bosahan Cove. The guidebook reminds you that this one’s private, so I followed the permissive trail onwards, winding through dense trees until a sliver of sand appeared again at Ponsence Cove, the perfect spot for lunch. It’s one of the most idyllic little beaches I’ve ever found and somewhere I’d love to return for a wild swim soon.

Here, the only sound was the lap of tide against shingle and I often feel like it’s moments like this, where you feel completely alone yet perfectly content, that make walking Cornwall feels like a form of therapy.
The OS guide describes the next section as a “narrow woodland footpath,” which turned out to be the perfect understatement. Roots, puddles, a steep camber and the kind of imperfections that remind you these aren’t manicured trails. It’s proper coast-path walking: a little mud, a little sweat, and a lot of reward. Still, it’s a route that’s perfect for families on a Sunday stroll with the dog, or for solo walkers like me who just need a reset.

Out to Little Dennis
Breaking out of the trees, the view suddenly opens to the sea. The Little Dennis headland juts proudly into Falmouth Bay, and from here the panorama is breathtaking. The wind picked up while I was there, bringing with it that deep Atlantic smell of salt and seaweed.

I stood there for a while, watching clouds drift across the bay. It’s one of those moments that reminds you how small you are in the best possible way, and how much of Cornwall’s coastline there still is to explore.

Villages frozen in time
Rounding the headland, the route turns inland. The first glimpse of the church tower at St Anthony-in-Meneage felt like a postcard moment, a stone spire framed by palms and fuchsias, bright even in autumn light.
This part of Cornwall has a softer rhythm. The lanes are narrow and sunken, birdsong echoing off the high hedgerows, and the air thick with the scent of bracken, damp earth, and seaweed at low tide. As you follow Gillan Creek, you’re blissfully submerged in woodland silence again, rooks and crows high above, calling to each other through the trees.

When I first walked this route last year, I remember stopping here at a time when I was struggling to find any sense of peace in the world, it was so loud even when standing in a silent crowd. In this place I closed my eyes and just listened, the rhythm of nature, steady and unhurried, was exactly what I needed. From the quay along Gillan Creek, the route turns right through a gate, following an old sunken way before continuing on concrete ground for the final few hundred yards into the village of Manaccan.

From Manaccan, turn right at the church, then right again at the next junction, and finally turning left following the footpath signs towards Helford.
As I re-entered the woods, the light softened. That golden-hour glow filtered through the branches and the sound of the river below gently pulled me back to Helford. It’s the kind of stretch that feels like an exhale after a long day, quiet, familiar, and full of gratitude.

And then, almost suddenly, you’re back in Helford, one of the sleepiest, most beautiful villages in Cornwall. The path delivers you straight to the door of the Shipwrights Arms, and honestly, it’s everything you want from a Cornish pub. Low ceilings, warm lighting, and the comforting murmur of locals chatting by the bar. The beer’s excellent and the foods even better. Hearty, homemade, and served with the kind of friendliness that makes you want to linger long after your plate’s empty. Which isn’t a bad thing because you can always fill your glass back up again.
If you can, grab a table outside overlooking the river or in the window seats of the bar that stretch out like arms on either side of the pub hugging the view. It’s the dreamiest place to sit in warmth watching the tide shift as the evening light fades. Its the perfect full stop to this walk.

Why this walk matters
What makes this circular special isn’t its distance or difficulty; it’s the variety packed into those few miles. Woodland, water, open sea, and village charm all flow seamlessly together.
It’s also the kind of walk that welcomes everyone, families, couples, solo walkers and even those rediscovering the outdoors after time away. There’s something quietly comforting about walking these routes alone and chatting to strangers about the landscape or life itself along the way.
If I could encourage anyone reading this to take one thing away from it, it’s this: you matter, and you can go out and access these routes on your own, trust me, I believe in you. I used to feel like I couldn’t go do these things on my own either. Then I picked up the pathfinder guide chose a route, and gave it a go, and somewhere along those paths, I found a bit of myself again and discovered the confidence I needed to do anything I set my mind too, including the freedom of doing things on my own.
For me, this walk also captures what my Top 5 Walks in Cornwall project has become, not just about routes, but about revisiting the places that helped me reset during some of my toughest chapters. Every path in the Pathfinder Guide has taught me something different, and Helford’s lesson was that adventure doesn’t have to mean distance or difficulty. Sometimes, it’s about stillness, and remembering you’re allowed to start small.
The OS Pathfinder Guide proved invaluable, not just for keeping me on track through the tangle of footpaths on this route, but for reminding me how many incredible routes are waiting just beyond familiar places.

If you’ve ever stood on the far side of the river, maybe at Glendurgan or The Ferry Boat Inn, and wondered what’s over there, this walk is your answer. It’s Cornwall at its most peaceful: green light through trees, the cry of curlew over water, and a slow return to the village with salt still on your skin.
