Dispatch from the Razor's Edge, the Blog of Michael Stephen Fuchs
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2006.09.30 : Brief Epilogue
"It is awful how things go on when you are not there."
- Graham Greene, The Lawless Roads

The storm ended by morning; but my train home was from Falmouth, in three days time, and I wasn't planning on taking another step until then. I spent those three days – and three nights – in tiny little Coverack. I came to know it rather well.

In the mornings, I rolled down the hill from the YHA, and took walks along the Promenade. The Promenade was also the main drag, which was also the only drag. I shopped in the little shop, trying to persuade the pinch-faced woman who ran it to take a cheque, as my cash dwindled. (*) I poked around in the couple of little tourist-orientated shops, until that got dull, which was about on the first day. I sat facing the water and made pages of notes for a novel I'm probably never going to write.

When I'd exhausted the entertainment possibilities of the town – other than drinking, which was the main entertainment, but I was trying to wait until a decent hour – I trudged back up the hill. One nice thing: a house along the way, with a huge garden, vended picked-today vegetables from a box by the side of the road. I'd drop a few coins in the box and take home half my dinner for the night. Then I'd kick around the YHA reading National Geographics, until it was safe to start drinking.

Then, in the dusk, I'd wander back down and into the one pub, where they never did seem to like me much, and sit in the corner and listen to the music and drink a couple of pints and read and make notes. Then I'd stumble back up the hill in the dark, make dinner, eat, and sleep.

The closest I ever got to the coast path was when I was poking around behind the front, and saw this waymarker. I backed away slowly, and stayed out of that vicinity for the rest of my stay. When Saturday did roll around – a long, lazy time later – I packed up, checked out, and waddled the length of town to the one bus stop. There a cute little ½-length bus picked me up and chug-chugged out toward Falmouth; and the train home; and the end of my path – ingloriously abbreviated, but I could at least console myself that the trip did what it said on the tin: I had gone beyond Land's End.

The Very Last, Final

Route Follower Alongerer

  cornwall coast path     drinking     melancholy     photography     walking  
close photo of Michael Stephen Fuchs

Fuchs is the author of the novels The Manuscript and Pandora's Sisters, both published worldwide by Macmillan in hardback, paperback and all e-book formats (and in translation); the D-Boys series of high-tech, high-concept, spec-ops military adventure novels – D-Boys, Counter-Assault, and Close Quarters Battle (coming in 2016); and is co-author, with Glynn James, of the bestselling Arisen series of special-operations military ZA novels. The second nicest thing anyone has ever said about his work was: "Fuchs seems to operate on the narrative principle of 'when in doubt put in a firefight'." (Kirkus Reviews, more here.)

Fuchs was born in New York; schooled in Virginia (UVa); and later emigrated to the San Francisco Bay Area, where he lived through the dot-com boom. Subsequently he decamped for an extended period of tramping before finally rocking up in London, where he now makes his home. He does a lot of travel blogging, most recently of some very  long  walks around the British Isles. He's been writing and developing for the web since 1994 and shows no particularly hopeful signs of stopping.

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ARISEN : Operators, Volume I - The Fall of the Third Temple by Michael Stephen Fuchs
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