Cornish Travels

23rd May - Thursday

Port Isaac 

Doc Martin's cottage on the left 

The village 

Location of the Large Restaurant 

No visitors, please 

The tide is still out! 

That is actually a large garbage truck approaching around the bend 

St Michael's Mount 

The causeway across at 12.30 pm

Looking back to mainland - causeway under water at 1.15 pm 

Back on the mainland, and this path was underwater within 5 minutes 

A corner shop! 

A fleeting glipse of Penzance harbour 

Cornish scenery 

An old tin mine 

More pretty scenery 

St Ives harbour - and the tide is in! 

The tide is definitely in 

A young seagull sitting on the top of a car 

Think we will take the high road, rather than the low road

The weather this morning was a bit of a shock; even though the sun was shining it was very cold and very windy!

Determined to beat the crowds, it was straight to Port Isaac and a half empty car park (others had obviously had the same idea). To say it was cold and windy would be the understatement of the year. Only locals are supposed to drive down the very narrow streets into Port Isaac – there must be an awful lot of people who live in the village at the bottom of the hill! We were only one couple of many who were obviously on the Doc Martin trail and were easily able to identify landmarks. It would seem that the owners of the doctor’s house and surgery have a problem with tourists, as the house is securely roped off. After taking a few photos, we wandered slowly back up the hill – it was even too early for an ice cream stop. With the number of pubs, restaurants, tea shops and ice cream parlours in Port Isaac, one would never have to worry about starvation.

We then had a drive for more than an hour to Penzance and St Michael’s Mount – an old monastery built on a small island just off the beach. After the monks left, the monastery became a fort and for the last 350 years has been owned and lived in by members of the same family. The island is now owned by the National Trust who has leased back the castle to the family. At low tide it is possible to walk to the island along a cobbled causeway, or if the tide is high, then a ferry service operates. As the tide always seems to be out wherever we are, we set off and noticed that the sea was nearly level with the top of the causeway as we reached the island. From the notice board on the island (why wasn’t it on the mainland?) we discovered that we had just made it across before the sea covered the causeway and would need to use the ferry to return. Some people were caught in the middle and had to wade through the water – not pleasant given the weather conditions and the water temperature! After lunch (there are ALWAYS tea rooms), we showed our National Trust passes and headed up the hill to the house/castle right up the top. One of us decided about a third of the way up the steep and cobbled path that it would be far more pleasant to sit on a seat in the sun (out of the wind, of course) and enjoy the view. Himself (being a strong bloke!) continued up around the bend and returned some time later, saying he had reached the ramparts and the cannons. Or did he just sit on the next seat, out of sight, for 20 minutes … Amazingly, we didn’t have to exit through the gift shop, although there was one on the site if we had wished to spend some money. The walk along the top of the breakwater was a bit of a battle, given the strength of the wind, and the trip back to the mainland wasn’t really being looked forward to. However, it wasn’t too bad (definitely better than having to walk or wait for the tide to go back out!) but we did only have a few minutes to disembark and leave the rock/jetty before the pathway was covered with water. It was amazing how quickly the tide came in.

Seeing as we were so close, we decided to travel to Lands End, but via a little village we had noticed on the map – it was called Mousehole! Doris took us right along the waterfront of Penzance; very pretty with all the boats but not a pirate to be seen! Mousehole was an old village with the usual narrow streets, but the road (?) out of the village towards Lands End really was a mousehole entrance! There are no photos of Land End – we didn’t consider it was worth £3 to park and walk through a large amusement arcade just to take a photo of a sign, so just use your imagination.

We continued along the major tourist road around the coast towards St Ives – a very pretty drive, reminiscent of the west coast of Ireland, with the stone walled and windswept fields. For a well used road, it was very narrow, even passing through actual farm yards at times. There was much stopping and backing up, and the muttering about roads was increasing dramatically!

St Ives was a definite experience. As it wasn’t possible to programme Doris to take us to the harbour (I didn’t have a street name), we decided to follow the signs to the harbour car park. If you ever go to St Ives, don’t follow the signs!!! We were taken right through the centre of the town, where the streets were so narrow that pedestrians had to take to shop doorways to avoid passing cars. The streets were two way (definitely one wide enough for one car), cars parked along one side and the two way traffic had to battle for the remaining space and footpath. We eventually arrived at the harbour, couldn’t find the car park so continued back up the hill until we could programme Doris to find the car park at the station. Where did she take us? Back through the centre of the town! When we eventually parked, Himself was still muttering, but this time about needing a valium and whiskey – forget about a Bex and cup of tea! He had done a very good job remaining calm throughout the experience.  We walked back to the harbour – the tide was actually in – and joined the throngs of holiday makers walking along the esplanade, partaking of the sea air. A Cornish (no sultanas in the scones) cream tea helped to sooth the nerves, while we watched some people actually playing in the sea; with the air temperature hovering around 10 degrees, not to mention the wind chill factor. We could have walked back to the station along the waterfront, but decided against this once we saw the size of the waves breaking over the path. While we were watching the waves, a number of “kids” were throwing some type of firework that made a cracking noise, then next thing, a fresh egg landed at my feet. Not impressed, but fortunately I didn’t get splashed.

Doris was then instructed to return home, with no lanes, thank you. I think we travelled more narrow lanes than any day previously – I have seat belt bruises across my chest from all the sudden stops at bends (Himself still hasn’t worked out the braking on a manual car!). I would also mention that all the farms in the UK drive enormous tractors that always tow gigantic trailers. We have never seen them in any of the small fields, they only seem to be driven on roads and have two speeds – very fast on narrow, windy lanes and very slow on wider, more open roads.