CORNWALL
The day after the May Day Bank Holiday we set off for a few days in Cornwall. Skirting Exeter, we drove via Bovey Tracey onto Dartmoor where road signs request drivers to “Take Moor Care“. It was a superb day, sunny and very warm and we stopped at Haytor where sheep and cattle grazed, to climb to the top. The grassed slope, with a show of flowering wild violets, looked gentle enough but the steepness soon became apparent as we climbed. Children were climbing to the top of the rocks on the summit, but we preferred to take in the 360° views from safer ground. On the far side of the granite boulders serious climbers were taking the more difficult route to the top. In the bright sunshine, the views were hazy in the distance.
Back at the car park we made ourselves a cuppa before driving on across the moor where wild ponies and their young, cows and sheep wandered free, crossing the roads at their leisure. Pretty, peaceful views stretched all around us and after driving through several picturesque villages, we stopped for a picnic lunch by the river at Dartmeet, where clear water tumbled over rocks in the River Dart before coursing under the arches of the old stone bridge.
In the afternoon, dry stone walls took the place of hedges and we passed through Two Bridges, the main road junction in the middle of Dartmoor where the newer road bridge runs adjacent to the old packhorse bridge, and to Tavistock on the western edge of the moor, before by-passing Liskeard and driving to Looe on the south coast.
The tide was out and the many boats lay idle on the sand, attached to long anchor chains. There is a busy wharf and thriving fishing industry here but unless boats are moored close to the harbour entrance, they are reliant on the tides for their fishing expeditions.
Our next stop was Polperro, where only residents’ cars are allowed. We parked at the top and had a choice of catching the tiny, red Polperro Tram Co electric bus or taking a horse-drawn cart to the harbour. We walked down the pretty, narrow streets to the delightful harbour where houses rise straight up from the sand and, after a walk around the small village, climbed back up the hill to the car park. We had decided to stop for the night in Fowey and, as we had to cross by ferry and we didn’t know what time they would stop for the day, we made haste to Bodinnick, where Daphne du Maurier once lived.
We needn’t have worried as the ferry runs until 8.45 pm. We were first in the queue and didn’t have long to wait before cars coming off the ferry rounded the corner and then we were called - first on and first off. We were told there were plenty of places to stay in the town but there is nowhere to stop there at all along the narrow, narrow streets, all one way, some only just wide enough for our small car. We decided we really didn’t want to park out of town and carry our cases to look for somewhere to stay, so we drove on. Signs to the du Maurier Festival, starting two days later, were everywhere and we wondered whether we would have a problem finding accommodation as, surely, everywhere in the area would be booked out?
The ever narrowing roads, with high banks on both sides, had wider passing places at intervals, yet we saw a sign at a bend in the road to a side road announcing that it was single lane with occasional passing places. We didn’t think a road could get any narrower!
Looking at the map I noticed that Menabilly, where Daphne du Maurier spent most of her life, was just down the road, so we headed for there. We drove down a farm lane to a B&B, only to be told they were full and we imagined it would be the same everywhere. The owner mentioned Menabilly Farm further on, so we drove there, surprising the owner who was hidden behind a wall, weeding her garden. Taken unawares, she was unprepared for guests but welcomed us in. We were just a few hundred yards from Menabilly House, where DDM penned many of her famous works. The house is well hidden from all directions by thick woods, and the gatehouse announced that the land is private, so I was destined to not set eyes on my distant cousin’s adored abode.
We did stop at nearby Tregaminion Church where a memorial service was held for her but it is unfortunately locked except when services are in progress, as is sadly the case with most country churches these days.
For dinner we drove to the Rashleigh Inn, on the beach at the nearby picturesque and tiny village of Polkerris, where they have their own lobster pots in the small bay and all the fish are locally caught. The Rashleigh family own much of the land around here and we would be hearing more of the name in the next few days.
After a delicious cooked breakfast the following morning, we walked down to the beach and for a short way along the South West Coast Path that follows the coastline around Devon, Cornwall and Dorest. A swan left his mate nesting in the reeds and took off from the lake, that we crossed on stepping stones, on a short flight to the sea. Highland cattle chewed the cud and we revelled in the quiet, peaceful morning with only the sound of gentle waves breaking on the shore of the cove. At the car park, half a mile above the farmhouse, a sign requests people to leave their money in the milk churn by the farm gate. The honesty system is still used throughout much of England.
We reached the world renowned Eden Project, north of St Austell, early and parked in the closest car park which was already more than half full. There are ten or twelve car parks amongst the trees, staggered up the hill, all named after different fruits, and by the time we left, seven of them were already full. I cannot imagine what it must be like in the height of summer. Shuttle buses take visitors from the car parks to the Biodomes but we walked down from Banana car park.
A disused quarry, an old china clay pit, has been transformed into an eco-centre, an environmental educational charity, a living theatre of plants and people and a botanical garden, reconnecting with the environment and striving for sustainability and a better future. Many Australian plants are in their own area of the outdoor Biodome and tree ferns that were seized by Customs were not destroyed but kept and passed on to Eden and two other important gardens.
The Rainforest Biodome is hot and humid and smells just like Asia. Having just come through Asia, we could appreciate the authenticity of it. Different Asian countries are depicted, with fishing nets, small huts with washing on the line, old motorbikes and detailed explanatory signs. We recognised Malaysia, Vietnam and Thailand and all the fruit and vegetables growing as they do in those countries. After a while there are signs advising people to “bale out” if they are finding it too hot and further on a “Cool Room” offers respite for people who are struggling in the heat. The undergrowth, lakes and waterfalls are all genuine, as are the spices growing, and it certainly gives a good insight into those countries to people who have never visited there.
The smaller Mediterranean Biodome also depicts countries we have recently visited, and was the temperature we experienced while there. South Africa and California are depicted there also as they have a similar climate. The Core is a large building housing educational exhibits. Children are well catered for with many exciting things for them to do outside and inside. Anyone game enough can ride on a flying fox across the gardens.
Our next stop was Mevagissey, for old times’ sake. Many years ago we sat on a bench there with Pauline and David, overlooking the harbour while eating fish and chips. A week later we saw the comperes of a British television show doing exactly the same. They were the “Two Fat Ladies” and we avidly watched their weekly show from then on. As the sun shone we once again sat there eating our lunch and reminiscing while watching the activity around the picturesque harbour.
Barry wanted to make a nostalgic visit to Falmouth, where his ships went into dry dock, but we could not find the harbour. The narrow streets were all one way and we could not find one that led to the water. Climbing out of town we eventually came to an area that overlooked the dry dock but we decided to give the rest of it a miss. Further up the one-way street we reached Pendennis Point where King Henry VIII’s coastal fortress stands high on a hill. We parked at the end of the point, overlooking the ruins of old fortifications, where we enjoyed a relaxing cuppa. Many tankers and other ships were moored past the point, out in Falmouth Bay.
On the way to Helston we saw some of the many wind generators that are all over Cornwall. They look so graceful and I cannot understand why people object to them. It seems a nice, safe way to generate power.
Ever keen to avoid cities and towns, we continued south to Porthleven on the coast. We found another delightful harbour village where the boats were once again high and dry although the tide was on its way in. Driving around looking for somewhere to stay we could find nowhere to park, the biggest problem for people offering accommodation. The places we called at were booked out and when we managed to find a parking spot on the harbour wall, outside the Harbour Inn, we asked there if they had a room available. All their rooms were booked; we were told it was Flora Day in Helston the following day and accommodation would be hard to find that night. Lizzy, the owner, was extremely friendly and helpful and phoned many places for us. Eventually she called a friend who had turned down someone needing two nights but who was able to offer us a bed for that night.
Penny was welcoming and offered us an enormous comfortable bed in a delightful room with en-suite, all recently renovated. Walking back into the village for dinner, we found the tide in and children and a dog jumping off the wall into the water, squealing and shouting with delight. We had fun watching their antics - so much better than sitting in front of a computer! It was good to see them outside having fun. The youngest children were sliding down the boat ramp into the water, the older children were jumping off the wall opposite the Harbour Inn and further down the harbour the teenagers and youths were jumping off a very high wall into deeper water. The golden Labrador was having a great time too, jumping in whenever one of the children jumped.
For dinner we chose locally caught plaice and red mullet and later struck up a conversation with friends of Lizzy who had come to sit at the table next to us. Everyone was saying what a great day Flora Day is and this couple explained all the events throughout the day. Children dance in the streets from 7am, the youngest first and then the older children and adults dressed in formal suits and pretty dresses dance in the streets at midday. The custom is more than 200 years old and is always held on 8th May. Signs in all the shop windows in Porthleven announced that they would be closed the following day.
After dinner we walked around the village and up the opposite hill where we overlooked the ocean beach and watched people surfing, something we saw them doing all along the coast. Porthleven is reputed to have the best waves in the country.
B&B breakfasts are served from 8am which we found quite late but this one was worth waiting for. Beautifully displayed fruit was set out in each place when we reached the dining room and the cooked breakfast was probably the best I have ever had. I didn’t have room for any lunch that day. We had been told of a walk through the woods to Helston, two miles inland, but in the end we decided to give the festivities a miss and drove towards Penzance, visiting Praa Sands beach on the way - several miles of beautiful sand. There are some surprisingly long sandy beaches along the Cornish coast in spite of all the beautiful craggy bays and harbours.
We have visited Marazion several times before but always the tide has been in. This time we were determined to visit St Michael’s Mount, a National Trust property, and went over in a small, open ferry boat. The ferryman left the tiller while he collected the passengers’ fares and we headed in all directions, wherever the waves tossed us, until he returned to steer us towards the harbour. The house and gardens opened half an hour after our arrival and we walked around the harbour and chatted to the staff while we were waiting. We were the first people through the gate when it opened and walked up steep, uneven stone steps to the castle at the top. Another couple joined us and we enjoyed some interesting and amusing conversations with them over the course of the morning.
Cannons retrieved from a sunken French warship are placed around the outer walls of the castle and we climbed even further to the narrow, low entrance to the impressive stone building that was partly covered with scaffolding while the walls are being re-pointed. Many circular staircases are inaccessible to the public but are blocked off with glass panels so could still be seen. The family still live there but we were able to see about half the rooms. All the rooms afford great views across the sea, an excellent stronghold.
The sofa in the Blue Drawing Room was where Queen Victoria sat when she called in one day and “took tea”. Only the maid was in at the time, much to the owners’ chagrin on their return.
Overlooking the parapets, we saw the flower and vegetable gardens on the cliffs far below - a long way to go to pick something for dinner. The terraced gardens are accessed from the base of the castle and, although we later walked all around them we did not climb the many steps to view them closely.
By this time the tide was out and we walked back to the mainland along the causeway and across the beach to the car. We were glad we had taken the ferry across as hordes of people were walking onto the Mount. We were lucky to visit when there were only a few other people there.
Driving to the north coast we made a quick visit to pretty, but busy, St Ives and then drove along the coast road where we discovered Godrevy Point, National Trust land, where there was a colony of seals on the rocks. We stopped there for a cuppa, overlooking Godrevy Island and went for a short walk along the Coast Path.
We spent that night at Portreath, a village with one of the few original stone harbours along the north Cornish coast. We ate dinner at the pub as there wasn‘t really anywhere else to eat in what seemed to be a fairly depressed village, certainly not comparable to the quaint, picturesque fishing villages along the south coast. We were not expecting the meals to be great but they were superb. I don’t think I have ever been served such an enormous meal and couldn’t do it justice. The steak and ale pie came recommended but there was so much of it, with a separate bowl of vegetables, that it would have been more than enough for both of us. However, Barry had his own large meal and it was all delicious. Incredibly we made room for the cooked breakfast the following morning before walking back to have a look at the harbour when the tide was in and the boats were afloat.
We joined the superb new dual carriageway that runs across Cornwall and Devon to join the M5 at Exeter. The roads we drove on were excellent and the signage brilliant. With such superb weather, all the soft-top cars had their roofs down, many of them MX5s of all colours. Jamaica Inn, in the middle of Bodmin Moor, was on the main road last time we visited but now the highway by-passes it. We detoured to the Inn that was crowded with tourists, many cars and several tourist buses. Further on, the road skirts the northern edge of Dartmoor and we left the main road and drove onto the moor and to the Finch Foundry (National Trust) at Sticklepath. It is the last example of a water-powered forge in England that once produced four hundred cutting edge tools daily. Luckily we arrived just in time for a tour and the workings of the waterwheels, tilt hammer, drop hammers, grindstones and old tools for making sickles, scythes and shovels were demonstrated to us. Barry made a comment about Health and Safety and one of the people on the tour said she was from Health and Safety! Heaven forbid that they should ever try to put a stop to those authentic demonstrations of the work people spent their whole lives doing.
After a cuppa in the field where volunteers had a large bonfire crackling away, we drove to the nearby Castle Drogo, a Grade I listed National Trust property designed by Sir Edwin Lutyens and the last castle to be built in England that we last visited with Scott and Ross twenty-two years ago. There were many more people there this time but it was a very interesting visit. Julius Drewe (founder of a large shopping chain) built the castle as an ancestral home and the Drewe family still live there. In one of the rooms volunteers were demonstrating the cleaning and preservation of leather, brass and paper. We had a long chat to them and found their advice very helpful although we don’t need to go to the lengths they go to in their efforts to keep everything authentic and in perfect condition for many generations to come. The gardens were lovely and it was interesting to watch frames being made out of willow for training plants on. Trees trained into canopies looked just what we need in Mt Eliza but these ones took thirty years to reach that stage!
There is much to see in Cornwall and we packed a lot into the few days we were away. Since our return the weather has been just as sunny and hot, almost too hot although we don’t dare complain. Long may it last!
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