Farewell Kernow

Cornwall, Kernow in the Cornish language, has a colourful history that includes of pirates and smugglers. It is highly possible that many of my Cornish ancestors were involved.

Frenchman's Creek is one of the places pirates were said to have hidden their ships. It is where Daphne du Maurier set her novel of the same name, about a wealthy socialite woman who falls on love with a French pirate. We walked the banks of the creek and took a boat tour there as well as further up the Helford River. It is exactly as du Maurier describes, green and secretive, and muddy at low tide.

There has been a ferry across the Helford River, in south Cornwall, for over 1000 years. It is listed in the Doomsday Book. We used it as well as other local ferries and buses to rewalk some sections of the South West Coast Path, and to visit Falmouth and St Mawes.

This is Helford Passage where we stayed in an apartment just behind the pub on the beach for the final week of our UK wanderings. There are a lot of upper class accents here. A lot of privilege. But it is not at all pretensious, but rather quiet, relaxed and tucked away from all the stress of the real world. A bit surreal but wonderfully peaceful.

Walking, north and south of the Helford River.

Took the ferry over the Helford River to go for lunch at this pub, and then for a walk in the forest on the banks of Frenchman's Creek

Caught a bus to Falmouth to see this beautiful exhibition of pre-Raphaelite paintings and tapestries inspired by the legend of King Arthur.

Falmouth is a small city on one of the largest natural deep water Harbours in the world so it has a rich maritime history that continues today.

St Mawes, reached by ferry from Falmouth.

Castle at St Mawes, one of many built by Henry VIII to defend the coast in the 1600s.

Our final evening. This might look like a bunch of blokes drinking beers at the pub, but it is actually the famous Mousehole Men's Voice Choir performing in front of the Ferryman's Inn just below our flat.

And - wow! They sure can sing and have fun! They have toured all over the world.

And now the time has come to bid farewell to the UK. We have travelled from the bottom to the top and back to the bottom over the last four months. Not everything went according to plan but that is the journey. Embrace it all. It is all part of the whole, the wonderful wanderment of life.

Part of my heart belongs to Cornwall

The Atlantic Ocean decided to hurl itself against the cliffs of North Cornwall last week.

Standing on the lower cliff tops while the waves smashed against the rocks, covering me in salted spray several times, was exhilarating. 

Earlier that same day, we'd been on Bodmin Moor, in wind-driven rain, in the car as it was far to wet, wild and windy for walking. We enjoyed a cosy lunch at Jamaica Inn which maintains its dark smuggling atmosphere as described in Daphne du Maurier's famous novel. They also have a small museum about smuggling and du Maurier's life.

Not quite the warm summer beach weather we had been hoping for. It has been very mixed, but mostly not too wet or too hot,to go walking.

We stayed for a week at Harlyn Bay, right on the South West Coast Path.

It was wonderful to walk out the door and onto the coastal cliffs and beaches to rewalk some favourite sections of the path from our time here in 2019.

Treyarnon Beach - Sunshine, surfers, stone-baked pizza.

On the way to Treyarnon.

Trevose Head lighthouse.

Harlyn Bay beach - all types of weather in one week, families and surf board lessons, and curry and crepes at the beach cafe.

Padstow - boats, shops, cafes

Low tide at Padstow

Between Padstow and Harlyn.

We also rode the Camel Trail to the end and return from Padstow. 52kms in one day, beside the Camel River, with well placed cafes along the way.

Almost lost my clotted cream to Tigger.

A few more random photos:

St Enedoc Church, between Polzeath and Padstow, was once completely buried by sand dunes until the 19th century.

Daphne de Maurier's writing desk, set up in the museum at Jamaica Inn.

Surfs up!! Excitement at Harlyn Bay.

Between Treyarnon and Porthcothan.

Cornish herring bone patterned stone wall.

On our kitchen wall.

Only one more week of wandering until I have to leave this ancestral heart home of mine.

Coasting in Norfolk

Low tide in Wells-next-the-sea on the Norfolk coast. The horse is a metal scuplture, commissioned as a temporary art work. It proved so popular that they decided to keep it. It has been on the sand bank of the marsh land opposite the harbour for four years.

High tide. Sometimes the tide completely covers the plants on the marsh land. Occasionally, it even invades the town.

A week in Norfolk, staying in Wells-next-the-sea.

View from my bedroom. The tide is out.

A mile or so along a road or along the sea defence wall, there is a wide sandy beach.

This boat takes people on tours of the harbour and marshes. We did the marsh tour. He can only operate for a few hours around high tide. 

The marshes are covered in flowering sea lavender. Not a true lavender but its flowers are the same colour.

Morris dancers performing in the main street of the village where there is a good selection of cafes and shops. Strange, quirky and fun.

We have been walking most days in the surrounding countryside and along sea defence walls and paths beside extensive marshes.

We hired ebikes to explore the estate of Holkham Hall. Imagine imposing entrance gates, manicured gardens complete with a magnificent fountain, a huge lake, herds of deer, forest and open grassy fields, children playing on a ropes course, cafe, gift shop, food vans, cricket on the lawn between the house and lake.

Took the train back from one of our walks. The quarter-sized steam train runs on a 10.5 inch gauge track using the old rail bed of the original Victorian era line that once ran to Wells.

Other towns. Cromer was large, cold and drab. We did not stay long.

Walsingham was a major Christian Pilgrimage destination from 1061 until Henry VIII destroyed the abbey. New churches were built in the 20th century and pilgrimage revived. We walked from Wells to Walsingham as a type of mini pilgrimage but the place did not resonate with me at all, it just feels tacky and strange. All the icons and worship of Mary is not my form of Christian belief or worship.

The scant remains of the abbey were beautiful and more peaceful.

On our final day we took a boat tour to one of the largest seal colonies in the UK. We saw about 50 grey seals and common seals on a sand bank. There were more in the distance too. There can be over 4,000 here.

One final walk through the marsh land.