Ooops-missed this one. Sorry

III - Cornwall

DAY 1 - 13 SEPTEMBER

We finally land at Newquay (which I find is pronounced "Newkie"). I had set up a car hire with National, and had called the Newquay office from the States the previous week, because the office there was listed as closing at 1300 and we didn't land until 1430. "Will someone be there to meet us?" "No problem, mate. Just make sure the BA flight number is on the contract." Ha!.

Well...there we were. Luggage in hand. No one there. Slowly the terminal emptied out. No one there. Went down to the other car hire places. They don't know nothin'. One of the airport personnel assures me that they do this all the time - it'll surely be just a few minutes until he shows up.

I'm waiting and starting to worry.

Finally, the same Airport lady offers to call the company for me. I say thank you, and off she goes. She comes back and tells me that they said, in effect, "hard cheese". "Take a cab into town - maybe they're still there." Yeah - and maybe not. I'm getting a little irked, 'cuz the aerodrome is about empty by now, and I have no desire to spend Saturday night in Newquay airport.

So I hustled back to the car hire places - Europcar is still open but about to close. I explain the predicament to the lovely lady behind the counter, and turn on all the Irish charm I can muster. It works! She figures out how to get me into something with four wheels and a motor, and we're off!

Loaded up the car, and off we went, running about an hour or so behind schedule. After getting directions, we headed out onto the road - in the wrong lane! The oncoming drivers beeped at me and I quickly moved into the proper lane. One driver made a rude hand gesture at me. Both hands. I was impressed.

Our first stop was St. Ives (or "Snives", as the locals call it), in the lovely Treloyan Manor. We pulled into St. Ives in the late afternoon, and just drove down the main street and there it was. Quite a bit back from the road, but well signed out front. We checked in and unloaded the car, and decided to have a look around. Our room, by the way, had a double bed and an additional single bed, some storage area, and a toilet/shower room. The windows went from about 18" up the wall right up to the ceiling. It turns out that when the window is open, it's like another door. We went in and out it because it was sometimes more convenient.

Treloyan Manor is situated on a large plot of ground, and the landscaping is quite extensive and well done. My wife, the gardener, just wandered about with her mouth agape and notebook in hand. I scampered up and down a few trails, and at one point I turned a corner and was confronted by a little grove with benches, and a cut out of the trees revealing a very dramatic panoramic view of St. Ives harbor. Very delightful.

Once we tired of exploring, we realized we were hungry. We got in the car and I was all ready to motor on into town and see if we could find someplace open on a Saturday night. Well, we hadn't gone more than 100 yards or so from the front gate when we passed The Old Cornish Inn (or something very much like that). Seemed like a nice, cheery place, so we parked the car and walked in. Five minutes later, we were sitting at the table with nice cold beers in front of us and two steak and ale pies on the way. Ah, England! (Or to be more specific, Cornwall).

Enjoying ourselves tremendously, I must say it was quite relaxing. One of the locals wandered over and struck up a conversation. I invited him to sit and we chatted for quite a while. He asked how I liked the place so far. I told him "My friend, I'm sitting in an English pub, eating home made steak and ale pie and drinking English beer. I'm exactly where I want to be at this moment in time, and I couldn't be happier." We all agreed to drink to that.

He just stared at me for a bit and then came out with, "Bugger, I am drunk." I stared at him for a bit and then asked. "Do you all talk like that?". He didn't answer and I didn't press him. I didn't expect, you know, he'd know what I was talking about.

Much later, we carefully drove the car the 100 yards or so back to the Manor, grabbed a quick shower, and collapsed into bed.

Day 2 - 13 September Cornwall

We were a bit knackered from the flights and the night in the boozer, so we slept in and just missed breakfast, although I was able to score come coffee and toast. Thus, lightly fortified, we set off to explore Cornwall. I wanted to head down towards Land's End, not because it's a particularly interesting place, but it's just something I wanted to do. So - off we go down the road. We take a "B" road until we hit the A30, and then head off to the southwest.

A word about the roads in Cornwall (and pretty much the rest of England, as far as I can tell): there are pretty much three kinds of road: The Motorways ("M" roads). These are full-fledged super highways - high speed, three or more lanes each way, full rest stops, etc. Great for making time. Below the "M" roads come the "A" roads. An "A" road can be anything from a four lane divided highway ("dual carriageway") to a two-lane blacktop. Still, you can zip along fairly well.

Then we have the "B" roads.

The "B" roads are what's left. Almost always two lanes or less - very often no verge - the shrubbery comes right to the edge of the road. Visibility is limited, turns can be sharp and unexpected, and every Brit feels he has to traverse them at the highest possible speed.

It certainly focusses your attention. Not too bad in the daytime - truly frightening at night or in a fog. Ah, England!

There are no "M" roads in Cornwall. There are several "A" roads. Everything else is a "B" road.

So - we made it to the A30 and we were tooling towards Penzance when my wife screamed "There it is!" "There what is?". "There's that island thing we read about." It was true. Flyertalker ajamieson had generously provided us with some information on Cornwall (his home town, as it were), and among the sights mentioned was St. Michael's Mount. This is a castle/monastary located on an island in Mount's Bay that is an island when the tide comes in and accessible on foot when the tide's out. Distances are deceiving - I had no idea from the map that we were that close.

Steering by my nose, we quickly wound up at the beach at Marazion, where there is a nice little gift shop/ restaurant. A bacon and egg baguette and a decent cuppa quickly put us in a mood to wander out on the beach. Actual sand, by golly, and the water felt warmish. Not at all what we had expected in England at this time of the year. Then again, we didn't expect palm trees, either! But this is Cornwall!

Well, we gaped and took pictures for a while, but the tide was in and we didn't feel like sitting around watching the tide do it's thing, so we climbed back in the car and headed towards our original destination, Land's End. We went through Penzance (nice town; hello, goodbye) and continued on towards the end of the world ("Fog in the Channel. Continent Isolated!"). We even passed "The Last Inn in England". Looked a bit dicey - we didn't stop.

I had been warned that the area around Land's End had been taken over by some commercial development, but supposedly one could still drive down to the End. Apparently not true. We had to either pay or vacate. We vacated, muttering powerful oaths.

Deciding to take the "back roads" back, we wound up passing a sign touting the Wireless Museum at Porthcurno. Having nothing better to do, we decided on a little side trip. Down a "B" road, naturally. We found it, but decided not to pay to go in, though we did see a rather interesting video. Outside, I noticed a sign pointing to the cable museum at "the beach". The beach? Let's see the beach!

There appeared to be two paths to the beach - one road led up a very steep hill, and the other went down into the woods. Naturally, I went up the hill. Turns out, the Minack Theatre is up there, and I guess it's worthwhile but nothing was happening at the moment. What was there was some pathways overlooking the beach, and providing some of the most spectacular scenery I'd seen in the UK to date! Very impressive. Really California-ish.

Bye the bye, this might be a good time to mention another quirk I had noticed in Britain (and France, too). That's the almost total absence of guard rails. One can just walk up to scenic cliff and walk right off! An OSHA engineer would have a heart attack over there, and any American injury lawyer would just salivate at the prospects. No kidding - you take a stone pathway somewhere and it turns and you don't and it's 300 feet to the rocks at the bottom. Visit in the daytime and pay 'tention. You have been warned.

When we had our fill of the scenery, I looked at my watch. "Hey, hon. Low tide is in about 20 minutes. Wanna go back to St. Michaels's and see if we can walk out?". "Capital idea!", says she. Well, actually we don't talk like that, but you get the idea.

So back on the back roads, through Penzance (nice town: hello again, goodbye again) and down to the car park in front of the mount. Sure enough, the tide's out and the quay is exposed. Off we go.

It's really quite a nice place. I believe someone is still actually living in the castle, so the castle itself and the very extensive gardens are pretty well maintained. Be sure to bring your hiking shoes: the trails are quite steep.

We lollygagged about for quite a while, and then we figured it was time to head back. Except, someone stole our sidewalk! The tide was in! "No problem" said one of the serving wenches, "The ferry will run you back for a pound." Consequently, we were able to sit and enjoy a spot of coffee and eventually make out way to the quay where the ferryman took us back to land.

It was starting to get late by now, and we had a bit to go, so we bid farewell to St. Michael's Mount and headed north. Our destination - Tintagel, fabled birthplace of King Arthur!

[This message has been edited by BigLar (edited Nov 28, 2003).]

[This message has been edited by BigLar (edited Nov 28, 2003).]

[This message has been edited by BigLar (edited Dec 11, 2003).]