England,  History,  Independent travel,  Photography,  Transport,  Travel Blog,  Walking

Ancient Homes And Shifting Sands

After the stillness of the last few days, today feels a bit more like old school February, the coastal wind bringing a chill factor which makes a nonsense of the official temperature figures, cutting in via the rib cage and exiting the body somewhere just south of the shoulder blades. In any lee-side location, the lukewarm sunshine teases with a kiss: turn a corner and your body braces involuntarily against the cold. The dark afternoon clouds bring tiny hailstones which dance across the ground like mini ping-pong balls, darting into corners where they threaten to drift but then melt away quickly without a trace.

It was incredibly cold up by the Matterhorn a couple of weeks ago, but there is something different about a wind which passes through the body before you can get your defences up, something which chills the blood and the bones simultaneously, something which you know will stay inside you until you are able to retreat indoors. Maybe it’s just our age, because it never used to feel this bad, not even when we were building snowmen and throwing snowballs. Older bones just don’t cope in the same way, do they.

St Michael’s Mount Cornwall
St Michael’s Mount

When we last visited St Michael’s Mount, we were denied entry due to the presence of a film crew doing what film crews do, but today the gates are open and we are able to step inside this rather wonderful miniature kingdom. This tiny rock, a mirror of Normandy’s Mont San Michel, is akin to an island citadel, cut off from the mainland at all but low tide, arteried to the mainland by a man made causeway, a place which in times gone by must have been closer to the elements than to humanity.

St Michael’s Mount Harbour, Cornwall
St Michael’s Mount harbour
View of  Marazion from St Michael’s Mount Cornwall
Looking back towards Marazion

Perhaps what makes a visit to this isolated place even more special is that it is still inhabited by aristocracy – the St Aubyn family still live here, sharing this isolated yet much visited community with thirty-odd staff. Detached from the mainland, cut off by tides, yet inundated by teems of visitors almost every day – what a strange existence life on St Michael’s Mount must be.

St Michael’s Mount Cornwall
St Michael’s Mount
St Michael’s Mount Cornwall
St Michael’s Mount

But with unrivalled views across the ocean, beautifully manicured terraced gardens which are best viewed from the vantage points above, and a history which is both engaging and absorbing, this must also be a very special place in which to wake up each morning. The similarities between here and Mont San Michel are not coincidental; the Benedictine monks of the French island were gifted this site by Edward The Confessor in order to replicate that monastery, albeit on a lower elevation.

View from St Michael’sMount Cornwall
View from St Michael’s Mount
Looking down on St Michael’s Mount gardens, Cornwall
Terraced gardens
View across to Marazion from St Michael’s Mount Cornwall
The gardens

Most of what we see today was constructed or renovated during the 18th century, even though evidence suggests that the rock has been occupied on and off since around 4000BC. The need for reconstruction in the 18th century was brought about by the 1755 Lisbon earthquake from which the resulting tsunami wreaked havoc on the Cornish coastline and caused extensive damage to this rock and its dwellings.

St Michael’s Mount Chapel Cornwall
St Michael’s Mount chapel
Cannons at St Michael’s Mount Cornwall
St Michael’s Mount
View from St Michael’s Mount Cornwall
Looking across Mounts Bay

The island’s history is too varied and convoluted to relate in detail here, but suffice to say that much has occurred here since its ancient existence as a monastery. Now, with the island in the hands of the National Trust but occupied by the St Aubyn family on a 999-year lease, St Michael’s Mount has lost none of its romance or intrigue and remains one of Britain’s most recognisable and iconic sights. Looking across Mounts Bay from Marazion, or from  Penzance, and seeing this majestic place silhouetted against the sky, is awe inspiring, bringing to mind anything from a sense of history to thoughts of sorcery and skullduggery.

View of  Marazion from St Michael’s Mount Cornwall
Low tide causeway
View from St Michael’s Mount Cornwall
View from the top

Blimey, Cornwall’s roads are dirty right now. In the midst of what must be a mix of tractor season in the agricultural world, construction sites as new houses go up, and roadworks as the A30 is widened, there seems to be a thick coating of mud on every road, whether rural or major. It doesn’t take many miles of driving for your car to resemble something that’s been in a rallycross event – ours would be a total embarrassment if it wasn’t for the fact that most other cars are also covered in the same mix of sand, mud and seagull shit.

The Camel Estuary is changing. A new lagoon, simply not there until a couple of years ago, now appears on the northern side at low tide, and there are channels appearing through the main sandbank which has remained steadfast and impenetrable for so many years. The sandy stretch in front of Carn Brae is clearly extending, turning the previously dead straight estuary into an S-shape as the Camel makes its way out towards the Doom Bar. I haven’t seen rapid changes like these in 44 years of coming here.

Padstow to Rock ferry Cornwall
Padstow to Rock ferry

The ticket guy on the ferry over to Rock confirms it: the Padstow fishermen and harbourmasters are confounded by the suddenly changing course of the main river through the wide estuary and have been busily re-siting the buoys in order to guide the fleet and other craft safely through the waters. Intriguingly, he tells us that a map in the harbour office shows a very differently shaped estuary in the mid-19th century – a shape which appears to be reforming now, in 2023, before their very eyes. The estuary is reverting to its centuries old shape right now. 

Camel Estuary Padstow Cornwall
Camel Estuary

The fact that nature is doing this is in itself utterly fascinating, but it brings with it a certain kind of security and solidarity. I am not able to explain why, but the whole thing makes me feel just a little bit more content about life, the universe, and everything. 

Camel Estuary Padstow Cornwall
Shifting sands of the Camel estuary

On our final walk of this visit, the chill wind fulfils its other function and blows away the clouds to leave a pristine azure sky, freeing up the sun to paint a semblance of colour into the previously tepid tones. If that sunshine speaks of Spring, then the wind remains stubbornly February: its icy fingers probe our clothing as it whips a horizontal line from sea to shore. The log fire in the pub is at least as welcoming as the clear skies.

Goodbye again, Padstow. This has been an invigorating, refreshing, revitalising visit, perhaps even more so than usual. We feel rested, alive, recharged. And ready for our next adventure.

Padstow to Rock ferry Cornwall
Empty ferry, empty sands

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