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Thursday, 17 August 2017

Cornwall 2017 - Part 4

Tuesday 15 August

We're enjoying our new pitch a lot more in the far more civilised Caravan Club field here.  Whilst there are children about, they are not running amok and kicking footballs everywhere.

It stopped raining at 6.30pm ish last night and it's been dry ever since, but on my early morning trip over to teh toilet block the ground was decidedly moist under foot, and there was much squelching to go with the flip flopping on my footwear.

After yesterday's early start (for her anyway) Herself is treating herself to a Lie in.  i spring open the front blind and take in the view, looking straight out onto The Atlantic and the Isles of Scilly.  I fire up my ipad and switch into full on anorak mode tracking the traffic using the shipping lanes from the comfort of the front lounge.



After breakfast I borrow a fork off the owners to prod our pitch a little in an attempt to help the drainage.  We have guests arriving in the shape of  Ronnie and YG this evening and they's stopping a few nights with us.  The sleeping annex gets erected before we embark on a good few hours of personal contemplation in the recliners.


The afternoon flew by and it's 4.30pm before I've stopped dribbling.  Ronnie is on his way but has failed to find our air bed back home.  We dart into Penzance to get robbed in Argos for one, pick up some pasties for the fridge, and dart back to site to complete setting up the bedroom pod.

After a quick freshen up we head back out to The Queens Arms in Bottelack.  We know from memory that they have a lovely beer garden that catches the evening sun.  Dinner is eaten alfresco with the sun on my chops.  Sea food cocktail and Lamb strips kebab hit the spot nicely.




We've not been back and Ronnie rocks up in his Beamer.  We hang around long enough for them to unload then we head out to enjoy drinks on the veranda of Ben's at Sennen.  We bag a table over looking the beach, which at 9pm is still very busy.  Not only are groups down there huddled around fires, but surfers are still doing their stuff and some teenagers are still in bathers playing in the sea.



It's Magic in the Skies tonight at Lands End and Ronnie would like to take YG over to see the fireworks.  We drop them off just before the first bangs and retreat a few miles with Jax (their dog) and ours safely tucked away in Vera's boot and the stereo pumping out music flat out to drown the bangs.

Back on site we sit up for a while having a chat before flopping into bed at about midnight.

Nos dda

Wednesday 16 August

The weather forecast was supposed to be proper mun all day today, but when I wake at 7.30am I'm happy to note the sunshine and blue skies.

Jax was sick in the night, over Ronnie and YG's bedding.  I'm awake to get up and dart over to the onsite Launderette to get it washed and dried before the sparrows have started farting.  With that done I load the 3 dogs into Vera and take them over to the cliff top for a run around.

I arrive and am infuriated by the outright thoughtlessness of some people.  Some git has abandoned a disposable BBQ.  People just don't deserve to be able to enjoy such a naturally beautiful place.


The culprits were there last night when we walked the dogs late on and I recognised their scruffy van as it's been buzzing about the area for the last week.  If I see them there later I'll be having a word.

We breakfast on bacon, sausage and egg rolls before piling into Vera and heading towards St Ives for a day out.  We arrive at St Ives and I suggest the park and ride at the rugby club.  Herself thinks otherwise and insists that we trawl the town car parks for a space.   I obliged, but 20 mins later we are handing over £5 to a yellow vest at the rugby club with me uttering a few "I told you so".

We jump on the bus and relax as it winds its way through the narrow streets to drop us off outside The Tate immediately start to regret the decision.  Tali and Gwawr and not at all happy about being on the charabanc and I have to fight with Tali all the way down while Ronnie has his own battle with Gwawr.

Just as we get off we think that the forecast is catching up with us.  The wind whips up, and with it it brings in some drizzle that sees everyone diving into cafes and restaurants for cover.  It comes to nothing though as we wind our way through the narrow streets, eventually calling in at The Western Hotel for drinks.

St Ives is busy, very busy.  Making progress is hard going, especially with Tali wanting to fill in every dog he passes.  At one point some serious shoulder barging is necessary to cut a path through the masses.

After a very successful passage through the main shopping street (we didn't buy anything) we burst back out onto the openness of Wharf Rd.



We bag a bench with a view of the harbour ans sit down to enjoy a bag of chips (with far too much salt and vinegar that is good for me) while the weather still holds.

The trip back up the hill was no more relaxing that the trip down, but if I'd attempted to walk it I'd not be here now tapping keys!  The luck with the weather gods run out just as we get back to the car.  I point Vera in the direction of the B3306 so that my passengers can appreciate the scenic view.  This appeared to be wasted effort on my part as firstly, they fell asleep, and secondly the rain closed in and by the time we're approaching St Just we can no longer see the sea!

By the time we get back to site the weather has closed in and we're getting a tidy drop of rain, but we're feeling lucky that it held off so long.  The rain didn't last though, but we're enveloped in Mizzle.

We get scrubbed up to dine out a la carte this evening.  A celebration dinner so to speak.  With a table booked in the restaurant at Lands End, I'm dropping Herself and YG off as close to the door as possible, otherwise hair will be ruined.

By the time I've parked Vera they've already taken a window seat with clear views of Longships and the Isles of Scilly in the distance, with the sun creating a superb natural backdrop as it sinks below the horizon the thick fog outside.

The meal was superb and the service top notch.

I leave them up chatting till late at night and am dribbling into my pillow long before they hit the hay.

Nos dda

Thursday 17 August

I'm awake by 7.30am,  and not only has the mist cleared, but we have sunshine.  My first job this morning is to sort out the toilet, as a senior moment in the middle of the night had me confused as to which way the level goes to open the blade!

They're all still in the land of zzzz when I return from walking the dogs, so there's no need to fess up to my night time farce.

We breakfast again on baps filled with pig and egg before jumping into Vera for a day out.

Reaching Penzance Herself pipes up that she saw a sign for a donkey sanctuary a few days back, but she cannot remember where.  Technology is great isn't it.  A few finger swipes on smart phones and we're on our way.

As soon as we pull up at the entrance we realise that this is a much smaller affair than the one at Sidmouth in Devon.




Never the less, Herself and YG had a whale of a time, with Herself frequently encouraging me to go get Vera as she was quite taken with a Shetland Pony and the iccle 3 week old baby donkey.  The place is a wonderful location to while away a few hours (even if it does honk a little) and there is no entrance charge.  They survive on donations and profits from the cafe and gift shop.

From there we head north across country, through Truro and onto Perranporth.  the further north we drove the better the weather got, and by the time we've abandoned Vera in Perranporth it's warm and sunny and the beach is rammed.

We take a terrace table overlooking the beach at the Seiners Arms, and bask in the sunshine overlooking the hoards frolicking on the beach.


It's funny, when we went in to order some drinks the place was dead.  The barman asks if the town is busy, as he's had no customers a afternoon.  Ronnie tells him he needs to take a look out of the window at the beach as it resembles Barry Island or Porthcawl on miners' stop fortnight.

Walking back along the main street, Ronnie and YG stop off in a few shops.  Ronnie treats himself to a new pair of flipflops and they buy a few keepsakes.

We're getting hungry so I suggest stopping off at the Brewers Fayre gaff just off the A30 at Hayle.  We pull in and I glance through the window clocking the dozens of empty tables.

"Great I thought, we'll be eating in no time."

We dutifully stand at the sign we're told to, and wait to be seated.

Front of house A young special needs escapee trots over and greets us (so far so good).

"How many are you?"

I look around behind me and see no one.

"Just the 4 of us."

"Have you booked?"

"No we haven't."

"Then I'm afraid we cannot accommodate you, we've got nothing free until 8.30pm."

It's just 5.45pm now.

I look around at the half empty restaurant before asking "Really?"

"Yes sorry, we're full."

I'm now looking behind supporting pillars for Mr Imbecile who served us a few days ago in Portreath.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"

I think the look was enough, and she made herself look busy tidying some napkins or something.

With a few more miles under our belt we pull into the car park of The Lamb and Flag, on the A30 in Canon's Town.  No problems getting a table here, and we're seated and fed within the hour with some very good quality pub grub.

Now regular readers will recall that my flatulence problem  tend to get me into trouble.  Hersellf refuses to believe me that it's a side affect of my medication for diabetes and insists I'm just getting old.  Well anyway, with food out of the way I can feel a build up of wind and I know deep down that I am unable to hold onto it.  Now rather than let it out silently bit by bit (that never quite works out how you planned it) I make my excuses and head for the Gents.

I didn't really appreciate just how much pressure had built up, and every step across the (now full) dining area was accompanied by an involuntary fart.  Nothing for it now but to keep moving with my trumpet warning people to make way.

Once done, I exit the bog and all eyes are on me.  I had hoped that Herself and the others would have had the good grace to get up from the table and meet me outside, but no, there they are waiting for my return, with my wallet, keys and phone sitting on the table.

They know I've no alternative than to do the walk of shame back to the table.

I sit down and Herself is giving me a look.  Once the accusation is I'm straight back at her with my (what I think is a rock solid) defence.

"It's an old pub love, the floor boards are loose all over the place and creaking."

I sit back and let that sink in.  Herself leans over, then turns to me ......

"It's a flag stone floor!!"

Ronnie and YG are both back in work tomorrow so have to head back home.  It's been lovely having them down here for a fleeting visit and after waving them off at 9pm we take the opportunity to drop the deflate the bed and drop the sleeping annex while it's dry.

It's the 4th "Magic in the Skies" tonight since we've been here, and I think the wind direction has changed, because tonight it's been like camping in  down town Beirut and the dogs are not at all happy

Until next time.........


Monday, 14 August 2017

Cornwall 2017 - Part 3

Saturday 12 August

By the time I lift my head off my dribble soaked pillow at 10.30am (what a kip!!!) yesterday evening's foul weather has cleared and the site has come alive again.

John the owner comes to see me and I pop up to the site office to sort out some admin with Wendy.  This means we can stop here an extra two nights instead of moving to another site up country to complete our holiday.

Wait for it ........ I skip breakfast this morning, and once we've freshened up the dogs jump into Vera and we take them off over to Sennen to chase a ball before heading through the lanes to the metropolis that is St Buryan.

I've driven through St Burynan many times and never seen a soul, but this morning I've seen 3 people walking in the street.  We spotted a sign yesterday advertising their Farmer's market here today and it immediately become apparent that it's not a patch on the one in Sennen.  We are the only customers for a start and all the stall holders (5 of them) watch us intently as we wander from stall to stall.

I take a look at the butcher's wares.  His Sirloin looks nice and well aged, but there is no way I would be paying £8.50 for a single steak that I'd be cooking myself!

Herself wanders over to another stall and fancies the bacon and egg tart that the woman is selling.  I think £2 a slice is a bit OTT, but Herself otherwise and buys two (I'm sure out of embarrassment more than anything else)

Next stop is Penrose Touring in Redruth.  Our windbreak didn't survive the foul weather last night and we're on the lookout for a decent replacement.  The spotty assistant is in sell mode and has Herself in the palm of his hand as he waxes lyrical about the £120 model he's trying to sell us.  Luckily I have custody of my wallet, and I start to ask some awkward questions.  He can't quite see how the one made of gold he's trying to sell us has the same weakness as the one back at the van.

Falmouth is next.  We park up at the maritime end of the town and head first to Trago Mills.  They didn't  have windbreaks so we carried on. Herself fancies lunch out and we head to a nice pub we know of with outside tables overlooking some boats.

We round the corner and my heart sinks.  There is construction work going on and the tables, while still set up, have a fantastic view of some steel containers.  We trudge on  failing to find a pub serving food with outside tables.  Somewhat disheartened we turn back, resigned to being ripped off by Rick Stein at one of his pretentious gaffs.

As luck would have it, just as we are passing Harbour View some people are vacating their table.  Pushing women and children  out of the way we win the race and settle down to lunch at a table with a view up the River Fal.


I knew that I had done it straight away, and was gutted but said nothing for a while, just furtively glancing down to try and assess the damage.  I''d hooked my sunnies into a loop on my daysack and when I'd put it down it scraped along a pebble dash wall.  Eventually my shiftyness got the better of Herself and I was forced to fess up.  Closer inspection revealed that they were a write off and I'm subjected to all forms of piss taking from Herself until something else occupies her mind.

While waiting we witnessed some simply unbelievable behaviour by a dog owner.  Now it's hard enough to find places that are dog friendly, so it really grinds my bones when I see people put that at risk through stupidity.

We were sat outside, but just the other side of some bi-fold glass doors was a family with an old greyhound.  They had a travel bed for him to lie down on, and to be fair he was good as gold.  However when it was time to leave, they all got up and the bloke picks up the dog bed and gives it a good old shake, spraying sand and dog hair everywhere (inside the restaurant mind).  As if that wasn't bad enough, he then lays the bed on the table so that he can roll it up to stash away!

Our Crayfish butties were superb.

Back on site the sun is high in the sky.  You know it's trendy for model types to take a pic of their long slender and sun tanned legs stretched out on a lounger?  Well here's my effort of my short and dumpy legs with gnarled toes for you to appreciate.



It's simply glorious just sat there swigging on a cold one as the sun warms my chops.  Just to break the monotony a nutter flies over the site hanging from a bed sheet.


The BBQ gets lit to cremate some kebabs for tea, and the site looks like there's a new Pope being elected on nearly every pitch as white smoke fills the air.





With dishes squared away we jump into Vera and sit on her tailgate in Sennen watching the sun drop into the Atlantic some distance west of The Scilly Isles.


I honestly wouldn't holiday anywhere else.

Nos dda

Sunday 13 August

We wake this morning to the sound of Bongo drums being hammered into submission by someone with less rhythm than a Catholic father of 15.

i take the dogs over to Sennen and throw a ball for them to loosen up a bit, and then get out my rip off Go Pro to take a 360 shot to capture the beauty of this place.  Apologies for the dog shaking like a sh****g dog at the end!


Herself needs perfume and I need a pair of replacement sunnies, so boots next to Hayle RFC is our first port of call.  We had a bit of an argument in the sunglasses aisle, which involved liberal use of the word cheapskate, but I won the battle and scored myself a pair for the grand sum of £7.50.

We've seen posters dotted about the place promising an air show, but they've been at busy junctions and are only A4 in size, so capturing the detail has been difficult.  I spot one and slow down enough for Herself to catch ..... Air Show ...... Hell's Mouth ........ 12th & 13th August ........ 10.30am to 5.30pm.

That'll do us and we follow the arrows from Hayle.  Hell's Mouth seemed to be a strange place for an air show, but I figured they would be taking off at Perranporth and doing a flyby at Hell's Mouth.  We stop near the cliffs first the give the dogs a walk and take in some sea air .. like we've not had much of it this week.



As we pull into the allocated car parking area we get that sinking feeling as we read one of the posters close up.  in very small print is the word "model".  We've driven all this way to park up in a mowed field full of anoraks!


Herself made her intentions quite clear by picking up her phone and staring intently at it.  She's not getting out then!

I site on Vera's tailgate long enough to see one do a buzzy fly by before banging the dogs up once more to make tracks further north.  We make it as far as Portreatreath where we swerve in to the car park of The Portreath Arms Hotel.

After taking  a table in their rather nice beer garden I was initially informed by the brick serving that we couldn't have a sandwich as we had not booked.  I found it rather hard to believe but was on my best behaviour.  I don't know exactly what the manageress said to him when he was pouring our pints of cider, but one advantage of being nearly deaf is that I'm rather good at lip reading, and the words stupid and imbecile were directed at him.


For all that, our lunch was lovely, even if they did serve the side of chips in a flower pot!

We stopped off in Hayle for provisions on the way back and the place is rammed.  I'm not in the best of moods by the time we're done, but a van tickled me on the way back to Vera, and lightened my mood.


I drop Herself and the dogs off at the caravan and head off out to catch us some supper.  On pulling up at Lamorna Cove I note that more of the sea wall has dropped away over the winter.  There'll be nothing left by next year


The mission was a success, and while I didn't catch any fish so to speak, I didn't lose any tackle either!

Back on site Herself has cleaned the caravan and got into Nigella mode.  We have a late supper of Thai Fishcakes and a stir fry.

Nos dda

Monday 14 August

Up early this morning and outside pottering about before the bongo drums started.  We've a busy day ahead of us as it's breaking camp day.  @DerekTheWeather is predicting light rain showers, so not really a good day for it.

The awning is soaking after an overnight drenching, and as a result is bloody heavy to handle, but by 9am the awning and its contents are stuffed into Vera.  We sit and wait.


By 10.30am we get the nod from the site owners that our new pitch is ready.  You see, a few days ago I went and had a word.  the uncontrolled hippy kids were starting to get me down.  Last night one of their stray balls actually came into our awning last night, hitting stuff off the table.

Some juggling by the site enabled us to move onto a fully serviced pitch on the more civilised CC members' field today, with the added bonus that we can stay extra nights instead of having to move up country.



We're in the middle of setting up and the biblical rains started.  We got soaked through while setting up, but luckily I'd had the foresight to connect all the services first and turn on the water heater so hot showers could be had.



It rained and it rained and it rained.  The ground is sodden and people are in hiding, the only respite from the monotony coming when a little dinky toy pulls onto the adjacent pitch.


We've nothing in for tea, so a trip into Penzance is needed.  Just when we thought the rain couldn't come down any heavier .... it did.  Good job it was only light showers that was forecast, I'd hate to think how we would have coped if there was heavy rain.


Our evening meal is winter comfort food ..... mid August mind!!




We're just clearing away the dishes and the clouds part.  This is why we love it so far west in Cornwall, even after a horrendous day the place still manages to send you to bed with a smile on your chops.





Until next time

Friday, 11 August 2017

Cornwall 2017 - Part 2

Tuesday 8 August

I had a bit of a senior moment last night.  Not sure if it was old age, my deteriorating lamps or the jug of Pimms that I'd consumed, but not long after we'd had tat wonderful sunset I'd remarked to Herself how low and bright the moon was.

She said nothing.

Many times I glanced up at it, and it was not until just before retiring to bed that I noticed that the moon was not moving through the night sky.  Accompanied by a crushing feeling it dawned on me that I'd been looking at one of the site's lamp posts for the past few hours!


I took the dogs outside and had a few words with myself before bed.

Another great night's kip is had, and despite my over indulgence last night I'm feeling quite fresh as I unzip the awning flaps to let the dogs out and the world in.

No time to hang around this morning as today is Farmer's Market day in Sennen, and we know the lady we are going to see sells out of her produce pretty quickly.  Barging through the crowd we get our order in and come away with lamb samosas, onion bhajis, potatoe and chilli bhajis and some roti bread.

Back at the van the ingredients for a lamb madras are thrown in the multicooker and it's set to do it's thing.

Herself throws some bacon in the pan and we breakfast alfresco.  It's quite nice out, a bit of cloud about, but it's warm enough, and when the sun finds a gap it's like being sat under a grill. We spend a few hours people watching, though I'll be glad when the sun moves a bit so I don't have to stare at this any longer.


The hours fly by, and the dogs are just as happy with our level of inactivity thus far today.  The most I did was check on how much fishing tackle I have with me to lose next time I attempt to cast a line.


By 3pm the sun has moved enough for me to be facing the Atlantic and I watch the infrequent shipping traffic through squinted eyes.


Herself has been hinting around the fact nagging that she'd like an anklet.  I suggest a spin up country to Perranporth.  We arrive and it's packed.  herself has also scanned the shops as we drove through and declared that it wasn't worth stopping as she wouldn't find anything here.

We continue to Newquay and after abandoning Vera we stop at the first jewellers we happen across.  They didn't have what she wanted but she did like the look of a bracelet.

Now I should have seen it coming, Herself has a plan and the cogs were spinning smoothly.  The next jewellers didn't have anything so she suggested I go buy a new hunting knife.  I came out of the shop please with my purchase of something illegal costing £12, then the cogs of the well oiled machine started turning.

"You Know, I think i'll cut my losses and have that bracelet instead."

We retrace our steps and I hold onto the dogs while Herself goes inside with my wallet for company.  Out she trots clutching a bag that is stashed swiftly in my daysack.  I am handed my noticeably thinner wallet back.

Herself asks "Do you want to go for a pint? " so we take an outside table at Berties at the top of the road.  I'm three gulps in when Herself fishes out her new bracelet to show me.  It's not the one I thought she was fancying, but was one next one over which cost a tank and a half of diesel for Vera.  We're unable to stay long as some chav kids have been given some snappitts to keep them amused by their chav parents .......... who seem to think it amusing that our dogs are getting spooked by their antics!

We're heading back to the car and Herself says "Oh look, there's another one there." I get that sinking feeling as the penny drops and I look on powerless through the window as the ever so eager shop assistant insists that Herself tries on every bloody anklet in the place until she's certain that she does not want the most expensive one they had.

My empty wallet is thrown in my general direction, and before I can have a grizzle I'm told "Stop your moaning, you had a new knife!"

There wasn't much conversation in Vera as we headed back to site.

The multi cooker had done its magic again, and teas is a superb lamb madras.


We were not carpet bombed by footballs tonight either.  Maybe it's a rest break between quarter and semi finals or something.  However Herself suggested it may have something to do with me sitting out front in my chair, swigging on a can of Special Brew and scowling at people while I sharpen my new knife.  Who knows?


Gwawr has been a little off sorts today and we've been wondering what's been up with her.  Turns out she was just a little tired and spent the entire evening like this.


We stay up long enough, though it's a struggle, to sit with the dogs through "Magic in the Skies" (not that they even stirred as the big bangs started) before hitting the hay absolutely shattered after a day  of doing not much at all.

Nos dda

Wednesday 9 August

The days are flying by, and I feel sorry for those who can only grab a week of leave to get away.  Another great night of dribbling into my pillow and I'm awake by 7.30am.  It's dry outside, if a little windy as I take the dogs over to Sennen to throw a ball for them and the St Just to the Co-op for a few necessities.

Herself throws together some eggy bread and we discuss options for the day over breakfast.  I fancy a walk and suggest gojng down to Gwynver and then over to Sennen Cove for a few drinks, the catching the bus back up to site.  Herself was keen, I could tell, so we packed our daysacks with drinks and hoodies just in case and made our way down to sea level.

The beach is close to us, but what Google Earth will not tell you is how steep and uneven the path is to get down there.  We are 350ft above sea level an d at times I'm sure it'd be easier to abseil down to Gwynver.

It looks heavenly as we exit the site and start to make progress.


Things didn't stay heavenly for long though.  In the last 12 months the steps have not got any easier, and with each 500mm drop Herself's knackered knees started screaming at her.  With Herself in pain it is inevitable that I am in the firing line, so I turn off my hearing aid and enjoy some peace and quiet.


Past the life guard hut we hobble and start looking for our innermost mountain goat as we contemplate our first clamber  upwards of the afternoon.  Sir Edmund Hillary would have been proud of my efforts though and as the going got easier me heart rate returned to somewhere near normal.

The scenery is fantastic and I'll let the pictures do the talking.






In Sennen Cove we grab a table at The Old Success, and I'm really looking forward to a good few pints of Thatchers before catching the bus back up to site.


I gulp 3/4 of my pint down before Herself starts expressing concerns about getting Gwawr onto a bus, and suggests that the only viable option is for me to catch a taxi back to site and drive Vera back down to fetch her and the dogs.

So, that's my afternoon on the cider in Sennen Cove out of the window then!  I didn't moan, honestly, I didn't.  Just before the taxi arrives Herself asks me to get her another drink that she can sup while she waits for my return.  Talk about adding insult to injury.

I sulk for a while back on site and prepare myself a plate of cheese and biscuits before something strange happened.  The sky turned this funny blue colour and a round yellow circle appeared overhead.  It also got quite warm, so the loungers were dragged out for some personal contemplation time.


Date night tonight, so at 6pm I'm reminded that I need to scrape my chops and have a shower, as we've a table booked at lands End Hotel for dinner.   Herself looked stunning as we walked towards the hotel and I remind myself how lucky I am to have her on my arm, even if she won't take her dog on a bus! .  We just made our 7pm booking, and we are offered a table looking straight out over to Longships.


Mind you the low evening sun bouncing off the Atlantic, whilst warming my chops lovely, produced a fearsome glare, and it's the first time we've sat in a restaurant for dinner wearing sunglasses.  Like sharing a table with Stevie Wonder mun.

Scollops, Sea Bass and a Sticky Toffee Pudding ensure we are full by the time the sun finally drops through the horizon just past The Scilly Isles.



Back on site, the hippies are having a communal hug, probably in appreciation of the sun set gods or something.

Nos dda

Thursday 10 August

Before releasing the blinds I glance at my phone and @DerekTheWeather is promising a used chip fat and sun lounger sort of day.


Before the dun gets too high we need provisions, so early doors we park up in a shaded spot at Tesco and load up the trolley.  All done, we breakfast on poached eggs back at the van before setting up the loungers for an extended period of personal contemplation.



The hours flew by and many rays were caught.  I think my head will sting in the shower tonight!

We are still feeling the effects of yesterday's walk, and my legs don't feel like they belong to me today.  Still they'll loosen up soon enough.

Herself suggests a nice easy stroll along the front in Penzance, interspersed by a couple of drink stops.  We park up and lead the dogs retracing our exact steps of a few days earlier, except today, with no wind it's somewhat more pleasant.

I am however getting some strange looks due to my new charm bracelet, and Mrs Strabucks chirps up on Facebook asking if they're for the dogs or me in the event that I misjudge the "Pull my Finger" game next time around.


Taking a seat outside Te Dolphin we're in a shadow and in a wind tunnel.  Herself is shivering and I know this isn't how she's expected things to pan out.  I go in and fetch the drinks and on my return put a pint of Thatchers in front of her.  By the time I've walked around the table to take my seat she's necked it and is ready for the off!

I followed suit and we made tracks.,  Though I will admit that once out of the wind tunnel and shadows it became warm and pleasant once more.  There was a table free outside The Lugger Inn so we settled ourselves down for drinks looking over the road out onto Mounts Bay.


Back on site I waste no time in getting the BBQ lit to cremate some lamb kebabs that I've had festering in a marinade all day.


Very nice they were too served with some minted lamb fried rice.


With Herself clearing the dishes I throw one of those joking logs onto the embers and settle down to get corned beef legs.  Very peaceful it was too for a while.

We are in a field where every caravan or campervan has at least one dog, and for the most part they've all been very well behaved.  That is until this berk decided to try and train her Lab in the middle of all of us with a bloody dog whistle!


Bloody bedlam it was, but she soon gave up after Herself grabbed one of our whistles and started to blow in to it randomly.  Her Lab didn't know which way to turn and she gave it up as a bad job eventually.

The hippies opposite appear to have older kids visiting them again.  This spell trouble as they lick the football that much harder!  Only this evening they are playing with a Frisbee and one of the adult unwashed is joining them.  It all starts off harmless enough, even if their Frisbee throwing and catching skills would leave them in the "special" group in school PE lessons.

As time wears on, and testosterone levels rise the Frisbee is going AWOL more than it's being caught.  Luckily for me the caravan next door bears the brunt of their lack of skill, while the windbreaks set up out front deflect 5 of the 6 stray Frisbee heading in the direction of our caravan.

I'm sitting tight, vowing to get my cordless drill out after to give one of their tyres the good news, but Herself has been on the ninja juice for a few hours and stands out front scaring the life out of the adult freeloader.

It went quiet for a while.

Darkness and cold descended, and with that "Magic in the Skies" started over at Lands End.  Luckily our two dogs were too tired to care about the bangs and we switched off our lights and watched the fantastic display from the comfort of our caravan.

Nos dda

Friday 11 August

What, Friday already????

@DerekTheWeather is not promising good things today, but my Facebook timeline tells me we've been getting off lightly compared to further up country, and indeed home for that matter, but even so it's a bit misty as I take the dogs to my usual spot to wipe the sleep from my eyes.



We've reached that point of the holiday where I'm fast running out of pants that are wearable.  I only brought two pairs with me in an effort to travel light. Right way round, back to front, inside out and then reverse sees me get 4 days out of a pair, but Herself is starting to grumble so a launderette is required.

There is a launderette on site, but everyone her appears to be queuing to use it, apart from the great unwashed opposite of course.

Over a breakfast some finger swiping on the ipad informs us there are three possible establishments in Penzance.  We pull up at the first one which is adjacent to the arcade on the promenade.

Now, I don't do washing machines, so why Herself thought it a good idea to send me in to suss the place out I'll never know.  In I walk, and yes, there are lots of machines chucking clothes about.  I grab hold of the young attendant and start to quiz her.  She seems quite amused at first by my naivety, but soon gets bored.

She asks "Is your wife with you?"
"Yes" I reply "In the car outside."

She sticks her head outside and confirms with me that Herself is the blonde lady in a Volvo before whistling and beckoning Herself to join me.

They shared much hilarity at my ineptitude whilst feeding a fist full of coins into one of the contraptions.  The attendant said it was OK to leave the machine running and we didn't have to wait ..... probably didn't want me hanging around any longer than absolutely necessary.

We grab a takeout tea and coffee from Zebra Crossings cafe down the road and garb a bench on the prom looking over to Newlyn to waste 30 mins while the machine does it's magic.


I can think of worse places to wait out a washing machine.  I go back  when the time is up and sneak in while the attendant is in the store room.  I empty the washed clothes into a bucket and stand in the middle of the room looking helpless.

She come back out and can't really be bothered to talk to me.  She just grabs the bucket, throws the content into a dryer and demands £2 from me.  She feeds the coins into a slot and the dryer spins into life and I'm told to go away and for my wife to come back in 30 mins.

I rejoin Herself on the bench, somewhat proud of my efforts.

With a bag of fresh smelling clothes we now stop off in B&M Bargains as Gwawr needs a dog bed for the caravan.  The bed was only £10, but somehow we managed to spend £70 in there.  I'm still at a loss as to how that happened.

Herself wants a pasty for lunch, there are numerous pasty selling establishments in Penzance but none of these will do.  She wants a Philps pasty, and these are in Hayle.  We join the back of a slow moving queue at Crowlas and for some reason we crawl at a snail's pace for about 4 miles.

The reason for our lack of progress soon become apparent as we round a bend and spot a steam engine crawling along.



I know it's a novelty, but did he really have to drive it along the main artery in and out of the south west?

Just as we purchased our heartburn inducing lunch a few spots of rain fell from the sky, but didn't come to anything while we ate from the comfort of Vera overlooking the estuary.  Herself suggested the coast road to get back to site.  Now Google and Trip Advisor will tell you that the B3306 from St Ives to St Just is one of the most scenic drives in the south west as the road hugs the Atlantic coast.

We'll have to take their word for it though as good old fashioned Cornish mizzle has closed in, and we can hardly see the road in front of us, let alone the waves crashing on the rocks a few hundred yards away!

We're back on site by 6pm, and the place looks dark and gloomy.  The upside of this of course is that there will be no stray balls or Frisbee coming in our direction this evening.

A beef concoction has been simmering away all day in the multi cooker, but because of our rather heavy and late lunch it's getting dark by the time we eat.

Until next time .....