There are some things whose existence is as much a mystery as a delight. Take the ferry service from St Mawes to Place, for example. St Mawes is an attractive Cornish town whose streets bustle each summer with tourists. But Place? There can hardly be a place worse named. Indeed, as you get off the ferry at Toddy Steps, it's tempting to think that, besides a few trees, there's actually nothing there at all. If you've ever wanted to get a boat to nowhere, this is the one to board. So what is it that makes this 10-minute sailing one of the country's great ferry rides?
I came upon the Place ferry as I suspect most people do - by chance. It was on a gloriously sunny summer afternoon and I was following in the footsteps of the travel writer HV Morton, the Bill Bryson of his day, who had explored the Roseland peninsula in the 1920s. Having spent some time in the languid hamlet of St Anthony in Roseland - three ancient cottages and a small 13th-century church - I fell into conversation with the gardener at Place House. He was taking a break from mowing the huge swath of lawn that runs down from the former monastery (it fell foul of Henry VIII) to the sea.
"You're taking the ferry round to St Mawes, are you?" he inquired. I looked at him blankly. "It runs from just over there." He pointed vaguely to what looked like a tiny abandoned stone slipway just beyond the lawn. "Except it's low tide now," he added, "so you'll have to go a hundred yards further round to Toddy Steps."
Intrigued, I cycled off to investigate. There was no sign that a boat of any description had landed at the slipway for, ooh, about a hundred years. I precariously wheeled my bike around the shore. This looked even less promising: nothing but seaweed-covered rocks jutting out from a dense wood. I was beginning to think I had been royally had, and was on the verge of turning back, when I noticed a tiny open boat heading my way. Sure enough, two minutes and a friendly wave from the skipper later, and I was gingerly negotiating a little metal ladder from the rocks on to the boat. Those who wish to swing a cat on the Place ferry are advised to bring a very small one. The ferryman, my bicycle and I near enough filled it.
In the days when the waterways were the quickest means of getting about, this route was part of sail boat service taking locals (and often their contraband) from the village of Percuil to Place House, St Mawes and Falmouth. In the 1950s, when there was no longer a need to transport servants to Place House, the ferry stopped running. It was only in the 1980s, when the crossing became an official leg of the South West Coast Path, that it was revived.
And not a moment too soon, for it is a journey into an old master. Pulling out around the wooded headland of Amsterdam Point, we unhurriedly picked our way through small yachts and day boats moored across the mouth of the Percuil river. The sun exploded little golden hand-grenades on the surface of the water. Behind the dazzling lights rose St Mawes, 10 miles from Place by road but just half a mile distant across the waves. This is the most eye-pleasing way to approach the town: white houses pile up on top of each other as they climb the hill, peeking over each other's shoulders into flower-filled gardens.
"I'll give you a hand getting your bike out," the skipper said as we arrived at the harbour. But I was already reaching for my wallet to buy a return ticket.
• Cornwall Ferries: daily Easter-October; adult £5.50 return, child £4, family (2 adults, 3 children) £15; kingharryscornwall.co.uk/ferries/place-ferry; 01872 861910 (office), 07791 283884 (ferry)
