Cornwall to London, Day 21 - 5th March 2016

“Sorry for any Delays caused by roadworks”. The English, summed up in a single road sign. I was nonplussed that they had even spent the money to build a sign to warn about traffic hold-ups, much less stick an apology on it for said traffic hold-ups. There were no hold-ups, just in case anyone was wondering.

Some ultra hardcore English roadworks going on

We’re on the move again today. We had a quick breakfast, said goodbye to Chris, Margie & the dogs, and climbed into our muddy muddy rental car, for the 5 and a half hour journey back to London.

5 and a half hours in a car is normally a really long time to me. In England, not so much, because I was so fascinated by the braided hills and generally-beautiful countryside, and the funny English radio. We listened to Jack Black(is he aware his name rhymes?) promote Kung Fu Panda 3, the best English hits, and heard some guy call in to play the British Board of Classification game and fail hideously at the Harry Potter Question. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Elves, anyone? His answer raised serious questions about whether or not he was a real person, and if he realised that he was a British citizen. I thought Harry Potter was compulsory over here.

So pretty to drive through!

Gorgeous Countryside

We hit Stonehenge (which was pretty much on the highway) at just after the 3 hour driving mark. Pulling into the car park, we saw that they were charging some completely absurd amount of money (£15.50, or $30AUD per person) to see what is essentially a bunch of old rocks.

Instead of going to see the Stonehenge, we made a quick facility stop at the ticket booth and headed back onto the road, where 500m later, we saw Stonehenge for free. Tip for anyone else wanting to see Stonehenge – just a few hundred metres down the road after the car park (if you’re heading Eastbound) or just after you pass Stonehenge (heading Westbound) there is small road you can pull off into & get a free closer look at Stonehenge, from basically the same level as all the people silly enough to part with £15.

Stonehenge from the car as we drove past

Amesbury

Just past Stonehenge we detoured off to Amesbury for lunch…at surprise, surprise, a pub (“The Bell”) for a quick £4.59 inclusive for burger, chips and drink.

Just after 3pm in the afternoon we made it back into Heathrow for car drop off. I was driving the spaceship and Hugh was navigation (usually he drives and I navigate), so it took a few goes of circling Heathrow before he managed to tell me where to turn in time. But we got there, dropped the car off quickly and easily, and jumped on the tube back into Kings Cross for the night.

Cornwall, Day 20 - 4th March 2016 - St. Michael's Mount & The Pandora Inn

We were up early to head out to St. Michael's Mount.  The weather wasn’t on our side – but it was exactly what we expected from England, so we were prepared.

St. Michael’s Mount is a little island off the coast from Marazion, a small coastal town about 40 minutes drive from Perranarworthal, and right next to Penzance.  It was blisteringly cold when we arrived. We found a park on the edge of town (the parking for St. Michael's Mount ferry is pretty well signposted) and fought our way through the wind to the ferry point…just in time to see it leaving. A friendly woman in a heavy-duty rain coat approached us as we arrived and sold us a ticket to the next ferry, which she said would be about a half hour. With half an hour to go and no shelter at the ferry point, we decided to walk in to town and get some cash out; as we weren’t sure if they had card facilities on the island (we found out that they do, for reference). Marazion is a tiny town, so it took us all of 10 minutes to reach the centre of town by foot and find what we were told was the only atm in town, hidden at the back of a small convenience store.

With cash in our wallets we headed back to the ferry point to join other shivering tourists. The Ferry to St. Michaels Mount was, thankfully, enclosed, protecting us from the cold. It was one of those hybrid land/water vehicles (think the Surfers Paradise Aquaduck) so it pulled in on the beach for us to get on board, before bumping over the sand and into the water for a quick 5 minute crossing. The Island is very close to the mainland – in low tide you can walk across a causeway instead of use the Ferry.

It was apparently mega-super-off peak season when we visited, so we had had to plan our visit specifically for this day, as the Mount was closed all other days of the week. Only 2 tours ran of the castle that day, and we made the 11.30am tour just in the nick of time.

Our tour guide took us up to the – I guess you would call it a castle – via a steep, stony footpath that had my feet aching in no time at all. Being an island, there were obviously no cars, and we were told that this is how the Lord and Lady of the Mount walked to and from their home every day. I forgot to ask how often they get drunk on the mainland and have to stumble up pissed. The only exception that was made was when the Queen visited once, and her security had special training to drive a golf buggy up.

The castle was not huge, but it was much bigger than your average house. The furnishings also weren’t very regal looking, but I really liked that. It felt like a home, with all sorts of trinkets bought back from holidays. I even saw 2 skateboards pressed against a window in one of the areas we didn’t get to see in (the living quarters).

Cannons

Occasionally during the tour we would emerge outside, either to see the cannons (yep, they had cannons. And something called a murder hole.), or the turrets overlooking the gardens (where we got told a depressing story about one of the previous girls who lived there, who fell off the stone walls and into the garden and ended up in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. Thanks for that guys. I really wanted to look into the garden after that tale), and the area outside the cute little chapel that they had.

I feel like this belongs at Hogwarts

About 1 and a half hours later we were led back to the footpath down to explore the little township on the island. Somehow the weather had decided to get even more freezing (I didn’t even know that was possible at this point, but it was) so we headed to the open café and had another pasty for lunch (Why wouldn’t we. Cornish pasties. Enough said). It was nowhere near as good as yesterdays, but I think that’s because this was a commercially made pasty as compared to a bakery pasty.

The township - before we did the tour, when blue sky existed

I stopped to get my fridge magnet from the souvenir store on the island and we headed back to the mainland via ferry again.

On the Island

The mainland was even colder, with strong winds pushing rain hard into us as we walked back to the car. We were completely sodden when we unlocked the car, and I couldn’t feel my legs anymore. We fiddled with the spaceship until we could get it to heat properly and drove back to Perranarworthal, where we picked up Chris before heading off a few minutes down the road to Hugh’s uncles house. It was an old English family house that I’d heard about a lot from Hugh whenever he talked of England, so I was keen to see what he was always talking about.

Hugh’s family were lovely & gave us a tour of the property & some tea with biscuits. The tea was heated on the oldest stove I had ever seen. I thought it was awesome. English people seem to take a lot more pride in their heritage and history than we do. Probably because half of Australia can’t even spell the word heritage, much less care to find out about it.

After tea, we swung back home to pick up Margie, and then headed out to the Pandora Inn. The Pandora Inn was found by following forests and skinny single car width laneways lined with hedges. We had to stop more than once to dance with other cars coming the opposite way. I even saw a badger off to the side of one of the roads on the drive there. It wasn’t really alive anymore (It was quite dead, actually) but I still saw it, so I counted it as having seen a badger in the wild.

The Pandora Inn was a charming pub set next to a little lake of sorts. It had a thatched roof, and a cosy overheated interior. I was all in for more English pub food (except pork pies), so it was a great end to the night.

Cornwall, Day 19 - 3rd March 2016 - Part 2 - Rail Ale Trail

Hugh and I crossed from North side of Cornwall to the South yesterday afternoon. From Tintagel, we made a brief stop back at Perranarworthal to drop Chris home and pick up our car, before we headed to Penryn train station. At Penryn we boarded the train to Falmouth to follow the rail ale trail. The rail ale trail crosses right across Cornwall. The basic idea is that you get on the train, go a stop, get off, go to a nearby pub (Pubs are listed on the trail website), have a beer, get back on the train and repeat until suitably drunk.

Just a casual storm trooper in Falmouth

I am a non-drinker so the Appletisers got a little boring (England does not stock a lot of options for non-drinkers like Australia does), but it was a pretty cool way to see the country side. I’m also in love with English pubs. They seem so homely and friendly, and they have fires. What’s not to like.

We started off in Falmouth, at a pub called ‘The Front’ which was on the quay, overlooking the water. Hugh was impressed with their range and the barman made a good recommendation, so he was happy.

Falmouth docks

After his second beer we headed off the to the next stop at Penmere. The pub we picked to go to was about a 15 minute walk from the station, but was a very nice pub. Everyone at the Boslowick Inn seemed to know each other, and there was a resident dog that seemed to know everyone, and made it its business to greet them when they arrived.

The sky was dark and the air cold by the time we left the Boslowick Inn, so we made our way back to Penryn to pick up the car and go back home. Chris’ wife Margie was cooking dinner so we didn’t want to be late, nor did Hugh want to get drunk, which was a possibility if we ventured to too many pubs.

After dinner we headed to bed quite early, knowing we would want to be up relatively early to head out to St. Michael’s Mount tomorrow.

Cornwall, Day 19 - 3rd March 2016 - Part 1 - Tintagel

The country side in England is exactly as I imagined it, and more. I cannot help but be utterly enchanted by forests that come straight from a fairy-tale, with falling leave and thick brambles running through. The roads are exquisite; so small and narrow, with hedges and stone fences guiding the car along as we drive. Tall trees are overhead. Leaning in to cover the road over. Even the clouds seem closer than in Australia.

This morning we are on an excursion with Chris, Hugh’s father, to the ruins of Tintagel castle.

I am fascinated as we pass Moorlands, so desolate and beautiful, past slated rocks, and past green pastures.

To Tintagel!

Cornwall is simply natural. One of those rare places where fresh air actually exists. Fences aren’t fences here – they are overgrown bits of nature that seem to be used to mark where territory begins and ends. Houses are more organic – wooden, stone or with thatched roofs; if no-one was to interrupt, the natural world would creep over and consume dwellings effortlessly. Technology doesn’t seem to have wriggled its way into this corner of the earth.

Tintagel too blends in to the earth. Old and rugged stones seemed to sprout from the cliffs; the remaining roots from a haven that had fallen into the ocean. The cold ocean has won, relentlessly beating against the land until it ceded and fell.

Castle ruins, sprouting from the grass

Tintagel was a place for the farmlands to meet the ocean, marrying the bounty of the sea with the bounty of the land.

A small stone church and graveyard lost in a sea of grasses held steady against the windy ocean air.  A quiet place of reflection.  

Church at Tintagel

Post office in Tintagel

In the village itself, an old stone post office stands with roof sagging but still preserved and finding itself fit for a purpose. Strong against the ravages of a cold wind. The small town is silent and with no movement.

Hugh walking Lettie in the village

Only the bakery shows signs of life, with a welcoming and pleasant aroma wafting out the doors. A hot Cornish pasty and butterscotch steamer spreads warmth from my fingertips to my mouth and to my stomach. The texture of stewed meat and vegetables bliss. I lament that I probably won’t ever be able to find one of these in Australia. I would move to England just for the pasties.

Pasty & Butterscotch Steamer

It’s no surprise that Cornwall is now my favourite place in the world. A place where no matter which direction I turn my head, my eyes can drink in a visual treat. Where the food is so good my brain seems to shut down to focus on the flavours. 

Tintagel

Waterfall from a stream into the ocean