You lean on the rail of the old bridge and watch two towns face each other across the river. On one bank, East Looe crowds its harbour with fishing boats; on the other, West Looe climbs its hill. Gulls wheel over the fish quay, the tide runs out beneath your feet, and out beyond the harbour mouth a small green island rides the sea. It looks close enough to swim to, and it carries one of the strangest legends in all of Cornwall.
This is Looe, a busy twin town straddling the mouth of the Looe river, the two halves stitched together by that many-arched bridge. It grew up as a medieval port, and East and West Looe were once separate boroughs entirely, each with its own charter. The town prospered on fishing, on smuggling, and on the export of granite and tin, and it sits at the mouth of a drowned river valley on the slate coast.
Offshore lies St George's Island, better known simply as Looe Island, a slate outcrop that was once joined to the mainland. A chapel stood there in early Christian times, and since two thousand and four it has been a nature reserve, cared for by the Cornwall Wildlife Trust, a haven for seabirds and a haul-out for grey seals.
For years the island was famously home to two sisters who bought it and made it their own, and their long stewardship helped secure its future as a protected refuge.
Here is what to look for. First, the harbour and its working fleet. Looe still lands fish, and the quay and market are the beating heart of the town, boats coming and going on the tide. Second, the bridge itself, its many arches spanning the river between the two Looes, best seen at high water with the boats riding beneath.
Third, the sandy beach at East Looe, and above the town the old guildhall that now serves as a museum of the port's seafaring past. Fourth, Looe Island offshore, low and green, which you can study from the cliff path as you climb away from the town. And fifth, the wildlife of shore and sea.
Scan the estuary for herons and waders, watch the island's fringe for the dark heads of seals, and keep an eye on the bay for seabirds and the occasional dolphin.
And now the legend. Cornish folklore holds that Joseph of Arimathea, a tin trader by tradition, sailed to these shores in the time of the Romans, and that with him came the boy Jesus, whom he brought ashore at Looe Island. It is a Cornish version of the old story that lies behind the hymn Jerusalem, with its question of whether those feet in ancient time walked upon England's green.
Whether or not you give the tale any weight, it lends this small green island a quiet wonder. Stand on the cliff and look at it, a scrap of slate in the sea, wrapped in a story that has drifted down the centuries. Once, long ago, it was part of the mainland, before the rising sea cut it loose and set it adrift in legend.
If the tides are kind, boat trips run out to the island in summer, and it is a rare treat to set foot on a working nature reserve. From Looe the Coast Path pushes on toward Portwrinkle and the long, remote sweep of Whitsand Bay, so fill your water bottle before you leave the town behind. Take one last look at the island offshore, then turn to the cliffs. Watch the tides and the harbour traffic, keep back from the edges. In an emergency, contact the local emergency services. Walk safe.
