We headed off to Lands End today, but I don’t think we took the road we were meant to. We drove through Newlyn Village and everything from there on in was a series of one car wide roads, with greenery on either side. Windy, hilly, very foggy and at many times scary, gorgeous to drive through though. We made it to Lands End – rugged Cornish coastline. It was wonderful to look at and we arrived before the rush of tour buses that we had to make our way back through. We wandered out to the edge of the coast, braving the very fresh (read: icy cold) wind. The cliff edges were just, well, rugged is the best word to describe it all. There were patches of aqua blue in the very dark Atlantic ocean and they seemed to be shallower parts made by huge boulders falling from the cliffs.
We saw two hares, and a lot of shrew poop. It would seem that shrews like to go to the toilet on top of rocky mounds. (I just had to share that with you). So now, we have seen: 2 squirrels (which I called chipmunks), many seagulls the size of albatross, deer (lots of, and one fawn), Jamie keeps seeing lots of snails, sheep, black-faced sheep (Mark and I now count them as a different breed after our Great Ocean Road trip), lots of cows, ducks, catfish, pigeons, ravens, and a sign in a village about a deaf cat living there (as a warning to drivers). Oh, and I have seen a badger. OK, I didn’t see a live badger; it was road kill badger, so that was a little sad, but it was still a badger.
We left Lands End and took a little side trip to the Minack Theatre at Porthcurno. It is modeled on the old Roman amphitheatres, but was by no means Roman. It was built in the 1930s by a local woman, Rowena Cade, no idea why, I didn’t google that before we left. It’s an open air theatre, carved into (out of?) the rock face on the edge of a cliff. The outlook was fabulous, the first real sand beaches we have seen in England at the bottom of more cliffs. It was very prettily landscaped with no-kill bromeliads and other succulents – I took some photos in the vain hope that Sheryl will help me plant some when I get home *wink, wink, Shez*. We only stayed for about 15 minutes as they were getting organized for a production of Madame Butterfly later that morning. We would have stayed, but it was raining. I can well imagine sitting there watching something fabulous while the sun set in the background, on a summer’s day. Oh wait, it IS summer!
We came back through Penzance (on the right road this time) to get ourselves over to Saint Michael’s Mount. Now this place is steeped in history and another fabulously free one for us due to our National Trust membership. Where to start! Well, the photo makes it a little easier to understand. It’s a ‘mount’ with a castle on it. Back in 495 AD (or CE for any long suffering UQ history students) a bunch of fisherman said that the Archangel Michael appeared to them on the mount. It may, or may not be the rum talking for them, depending on how religious you are. Anyway, not much happened until around 1070 when the mount was given to the Benedictine monks, who built a stone monastery on the top in 1135. For the next 400 odd years, the mount was taken over by land barons (eg Earls) and then given back to the church, and then taken back by the barons. Back and forth, back and forth, until Henry VIII came along and started the “Dissolution of Monasteries Act” around 1535. In 1599, Queen Elizabeth I sold the mount to Sir Robert Cecil. It got sold a few more times, saw a few wars out, and in 1659, the St Aubryn family purchased the land, and it has been in their family ever since. Like Antony House, the family still actually live in the castle. OK, history lesson over.
The monastery/castle sits atop the ‘mount’ out in the bay. We caught the ferry as the tide wasn’t out enough to walk across yet, but we did walk back along the causeway. Oh, if you are planning a visit here, be warned, the car park is at least a 20 minute walk to the mount across cobblestones and sand. We went to the café and had some lunch – a pot of tea and some scones with jam and cream – now THIS was the scones we had been waiting for. Previous scones had been flatter than pancakes and harder than Rupert Murdoch’s head, and these were just perfect!
We started the walk up to the top, it was all very uneven cobblestones and quite difficult to walk up, but the views all the way along were very encouraging. Halfway up there is a stone set into the walkway shaped like a heart – they call it the “Giant’s Heart” based on some old mythology about a giant inhabiting the mount for a while. We made it to the canons…. they still move… and then up into the castle itself. Interesting rooms, full of interesting things. It was fabulous when we walked out around the turrets though, amazing views all around. The church was the best bit – a wonderful pipe organ at the back and fabulously detailed stained glass. Take a look at our photos, as they describe what we saw quite well! Back down the very uneven and difficult to walk on cobblestone pathway and back across to the mainland, this time via the (now exposed) causeway.
We took off for Tintagel then – legend tags it as King Arthur’s birthplace. The town was incredibly busy, but we think it was entirely due to tourism. It was a little difficult to figure out where we were meant to park, and ended up driving to a motel on the edge of the coastline aptly named “Camelot”. It was raining again and we got out to have a look at where people were walking from so as to work out where to park. I could see across to where the ruins were, and sheesh, it was a long walk out there! Two old men were standing just up from me, and one was talking about how what we could see from where we were, was all there was to it. I started talking to them, and we decided that we probably had a pretty bloody good view from there and that walking all that way (and particularly in the rain, up and down all those stairs) could be a bit of a waste of time. (Let me add here, we’re pretty buggered!). So we chatted to the men for a while, one of them asked Mark who won the Ashes and so I knew that was my time to leave. Jamie and I walked around taking some photos and we came back to collect Mark about 5 minutes later – he was still happily ribbing the men about something cricket-ish.
Back onto the highway and an hour and a bit later we found our accommodation for the night. The barman here is a very cool guy, and gave Jamie a lot of curry over dinner. He had us laughing about candle wax and heatproof cotton (long story) but right now, all I want to do is sleep! We’re off to Liverpool tomorrow to spend a few days with my friend Anne. Jamie will be catching up with another mutual friend Cindy, and the following day, Anne, Kirsty and all of us, will be heading off to the Beatles Museum – I can’t believe I am THIS CLOSE to the Beatles Museum!
SIDENOTES:
- I love it how every pub we pass has “the BEST beer, and the BEST food”
- We were very close to St Ives, but I did not see a man with a nine bags full of cats.
I love to see you enjoy! :)
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