It was a wonderful holiday. I ate Port Isaac crab in Port Isaac; had fresh-caught fish at Tintagel, and various other Cornish treats.
Cornwall in the sunshine is spectacularly beautiful. From the cottage we had views of Bodmin moor, but the weather was so good we just wanted the coast.
We went to Padstow twice. Now I'm far from being a Rick Stein fan, but Padstow has developed, since we went there thirty or so years ago, into a friendly, lazy sort of place. You can hear gentle, live music wherever you are. There's delicious local ice cream to sample, places to sit in the sun and drink coffee. I was happy to people watch, or to watch the tide coming in.
Most people seem to have dogs; Fig had sensory overload when we left, after all that sniffing.
At Boscastle I had the great pleasure of listening to the hollow booming from the blow hole.
And we went to Tintagel.
The photos are by Gareth, when he and I went to Cornwall two years ago. As you will see, his photos are brilliant.
When you go to Tintagel, you leave the village and go down a very steep path to the bay. It's so steep that they offer Land Rover rides up and down. This is the view from half-way down; there's a place where the stream is accessible so little brown dogs can have a drink and cool their tummies.
At the bottom is a good cafe, serving fresh food, and the English Heritage centre and entrance to the castle. I don't go up to the castle. It's far too exposed, and I have absolutely no head for heights. I go down to the little beach. There's a pretty waterfall:
When you've climbed down the many steps there are boulders to negotiate before you reach the small amount of sand. Fig had the most amazing time down there, playing with the waves and surfing. She disappeared among the rocks at one point, and I was just getting anxious when she reappeared from the opposite direction, grinning all over her face.
Down there are caves, and especially one which actually goes right through the cliff.
I'm a real wet blanket and don't like caves any more than heights, but this one has such amazing light effects that it takes my breath away.
Climbing back up to the village is a penance. No, I didn't ride. My pride wouldn't let me.
The village has a lot of fake Arthuriana, but the legends are so compelling I can understand it. And in spite of the tourists, the touristy shops and places, the place has a real magic about it. I'm looking forward to my next visit already.
What, no crochet? Well yes, of course. My next effusion will introduce visits to Bude and to wool shops. See you then!
