Days 11 to 13: a couple of days in Cornwall
The whole holiday was drawing to a rapid close, and today, Thursday 1 June, we all went out separate ways. Caz and Al were catching a later train to London, while the rest of us were on the same train from Dorchester West, with Paula and I getting off at Yeovil to pick up a car. and Simon, Jane, Claire and Benm continuing on to Bath. Our departure, after a leisurely and delicious breakfast, had a slight air of farce as our hosts, Karl and Jocelyn, had not even had the time to arrange a tap machine. Thankfully for the rest of us, we were saved the trauma of international banking by Caz and Al, who arranged to pay the full amount in cash and allow us to transfer the cost to them using Australian accounts.
Yeovil, we missed you, by not much, just the distance between the station and Europcar. We hopped on the A30 and ended up screaming down the M5 to Port Isaac, just to have a look at the village which inspire Port Wenn. I don’t think I will ever get completely used to the narrow lanes in this part of the world —much worse than Ireland, I think — but I had plenty of practice over the next few days in reversing a high-speed back up a single-lane road to allow everything from lorries to huge tractors to pass. Thankfully, we had been upgraded to a very T-Roc, which was big enough for the bags and small enough for most things.
Port Isaac had plenty of entertainment, from the hordes of day trippers (which is all that the village can manage, really) to the drunk who had parked on the hard, and whose keys had been conveniently lost by someone concerned about his fitness to drive up winding streets where there would have been less than a foot on either side. Things became even more comic — even after he had realised that the tide was coming in — when the lifeboat was called out for a rescue of some kind (mind you, it took them 20 minutes to launch, so this was no Bondi rescue of distressed Asian non-swimmers). The RNLI had to launch their RIB around him, much to the amusement of a couple of hundred onlookers. Eventually, someone fessed up to hiding the keys and moved the car from the intertidal zone, but an awful lot of people would cheerfully have chucked the drunk into the bay.
Mevagissey was even prettier than I remember, and staying near the Harbour made it even better. Our hosts — Ross and Dan — were classics. Imagine a Malay/English and Australian gay couple renovating an old building and press Button B for the stereotype: that’s right, exquisite taste in decorations in a beautifully converted net loft, with a bright pink door! They were delightful and hospitable, even as they were struggling to finish a massive renovation upstairs in their apartment (which they would be able to rent for extra income where needed, in addition to the two other apartments). They showed us around upstairs, and it will be amazing. [Edit: I’ve just checked on Air BnB and they did get it finished in their ten-day time frame and it looks sensational. We will have to go back!]
They showed us around upstairs, and it will be amazing. [Edit: I’ve just checked on Air BnB and they did get it finished in their ten-day time frame and it looks sensational. We will have to go back!]
We made the most of the next day (Friday 2 June), scooting down to St Michael’s Mount via Falmouth (not helped by having the sim cards in our phones running out at the most inconvenient time). We had nearly four hours catching the boat over to the island (the tide was too high to walk the causeway), touring the castle and wandering around the stunning gardens. Whatever the superficial resemblance to the French monastery, the castle was quite different and felt very homely, as indeed it was: the St Aubyn family still live in the castle, away from the public rooms. I am sure they, and the other 80 or so people who live and work on the island, very much enjoy Saturday, when the island is closed, and the five months of the year when the castle is closed.
We had a sensational meal that night, simple local food that was beautifully prepared in a little restaurant called ‘Salamander’, a very nice way to celebrate Paula’s birthday Then it was packing, and the next morning saying farewell to Ross and Dan and starting the trip home, We drove via Fowey, the first of a couple of stops we hoped to make. When I did the SWCP in 2018, it was misty and fog rolled in soon after. That day (Saturday), it was bright sunshine and even though we weren’t able to spend a lot of time (no time to explore Menabilly and the smugglers’ holes), we wandered around and even found organic cotton babies clothes for Lumi and Norah.
The rest of the drive to Heathrow had better fade into oblivion! The traffic was a nightmare as a significant portion of the population of London returned home after half term. We had thought we might get lunch at Salisbury, and while Stonehenge wasn’t that attractive a proposition, it would have been nice to have a look at Old Sarum; but we were two hours behind schedule by the time we drove past Stonehenge and had to abandon any idea of sightseeing. In fact, Maps kept us well away from the motorways until we were almost in London, so we were on the distinctly rural A30 for the whole afternoon.
The rest is just details. A comfortable Holiday In at Heathrow, allowing for a relaxed morning getting to Terminal 3 (although the queues going the other way at the tube station were astonishing); then on the A380 for the trip to Singapore. We were in Melbourne in time for a quick drink before another Holiday Inn, and then home the next morning.
It has been one of our best trips: even though we only went to one capital city (Dublin!), we came back refreshed and relaxed having spent lots of time in the country and enjoying the open air. Of course, we are already planning for next year… and there are all those Qantas COVID credits to be used by the end of the year!
