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Autumn Sun
Our short sojourn between adventures has provided, as our times at home usually do, an opportunity to catch up with friends, family, football… and Cornwall. A changeable week in Cornwall weather wise brought a pattern of alternate sunny and wet days, though regardless of which it was, each day was pretty mild for the time of year. A few photos from the sunny days….
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Just Another Night In The Pub
There’s a keyboard in the corner of the bar, a bright blue guitar leaning up against the wall and an electronic drum machine glinting in the glare of the pub spotlighting. A short stocky guy holds a pint of cider in his left hand as he adjusts the height of the mic stand with the other. Around the room there’s a scattering of couples with fish and chips or a home made pie – short cut pastry according to the menu – and an older guy sitting on what is obviously “his” bar stool, engaging the bar staff in chatter. We can overhear part of the conversation and glean that…
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Floods And Frosts In The English Winter
The new year period trudges by and the dawning of 2024 passes with no great celebration, Michaela’s cough has turned out to be a nasty little chest infection which has taken a proper grip. As we watch London’s new year fireworks on the TV, we muse on the fact that we saw in 2023 in Pedasi in Panama and the previous year in La Fortuna, Costa Rica, this time it’s a matter of grabbing a GP appointment and snaring a dose of antibiotics. With the cough still barking but the spirit enjoying a measure of medically induced uplift, we head to Northamptonshire for my granddaughter’s third birthday party where River…
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Chasing Rainbows
“Customer Service, how can I help you?” “Oh hello, I wonder if you can. We have an existing booking with connecting flights in Lisbon, but we’re a little bit worried about the short connection time at Lisbon Airport. Is it possible to change just the first flight, the one from Heathrow to Lisbon?” He asks for our booking reference, then goes quiet. Canned music messes with my ears for a while and then he’s back. “I am just checking your flights, you should be OK. The connecting flight will be OK”. “Yes but we’re worried. If we miss that second flight, there isn’t another one to that destination for three…
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Storm Ciarán & Friends
By Tuesday the TV news is full of it. Never mind the wars raging in both Europe and the Middle East, there is, it seems, a storm heading towards Britain which is akin to the four horsemen of the apocalypse powering across the Atlantic to wreak devastation on our forlorn shores. Storm Ciarán, somebody somewhere has decided. With Ciarán due to enter the fray Wednesday night into Thursday, we bring our plans forward by 24 hours and make the 350-mile 6-hour drive to Cornwall ahead of those “essential travel only” messages which will no doubt soon boom across the nation. We hole up, batten down, listen to the wind as…
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Invasive Species & Changing Scenery
In our post about Winston Churchill’s family home at Chartwell a couple of weeks ago, we mentioned that we felt a bit miffed at missing out on the good weather which was being enjoyed by the rest of England while those of us on the east coast were still in coats and jeans. Well, it only got marginally better. The recent so-called heatwave is mostly over, and somehow we managed to carry on with what seems to be a newly acquired knack of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. We left our home in Kent on the very day that the high temperatures finally hit these parts,…
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Myths And Legends At Tintagel
There is more than just a sense of history as we approach the remains of the castle: Tintagel is the home of legends and mysteries, of royalty, magic and intrigue. Its setting is utterly dramatic on the colossal Atlantic coastline where rocky cliffs tower above the relentless ocean, the ruins split in half where erosion has broken through the rocks to turn a former headland into an island. Consequently half of the ruins of this complicated structure remain on the Cornish mainland, the other half on the island joined to the land by a bridge of recent construction. The voices of history echo in the walls and outcrops, the wind…
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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…
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February Days In England
The stillness of a windless February day in England is a stillness unlike any other. Even the most stirring of places becomes a sensory underload, sound deadened by the absence of birdsong, colours diluted like too-thin water paints, no breeze to carry scents, no leaves to decorate the woodland. Gorse splashes its yellow blotches on to the clifftops but carries no fragrance, its delectable musk scent absent yet for another month or two. Gulls’ cries sound forlorn and lonely, the occasional rasp of a jackdaw only serves to accentuate the stillness. If a skylark takes flight, its song is truncated, a burst of panic more than a trill of joy.…
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These Cornish Things
In our last blog post we discussed how unseasonable the current weather is, feeling far too mild to be cusp November. After over four decades of visiting Cornwall I really should have known better, for my comeuppance arrives swiftly and with a vengeance, in the form of howling gales and unforgiving hailstorms. Walking from Rock to Polzeath is a doddle, the morning clouds banished by the strong winds which, coming from behind, propel us along the coast path at roughly twice our normal walking speed. The return walk couldn’t be more different. Just in time for reaching the part of the path furthest from shelter, those winds, now head on…
