Cornwall

I have a passion for off- and shoulder-season travel. Why do people go on vacation to places when the weather is the best? Why bother with the crowds of people, all enjoying sunshine and warmth? Why not go to Cornwall in the very beginning of April, when you don’t have to fight off hordes of people from your lovely fish & chips and dodge passers-by on the promenade?

I have discovered why: It is because it is very cold and very windy and very wet, and one’s husband will quite unreasonably refuse to hike when it is pouring down lashes of rain and gusting 40mph breezes.

This being said, we did manage to eke out a few moments of sunshine (or, at least, cloudy drizzle) on our Easter holiday last weekend.

Let’s pause to acknowledge Easter holiday aka I get both Friday and Monday off in a gloriously long weekend that everyone celebrates despite the fact that the churchgoing population has dropped below 1% (CoE). No one complains about days off.

 

Fishing boats in the Newlyn harbour, day one when we were still optimistic about the weather, and I made my family eat outside even though it was only about 45. BUT SUNNY. 

We spent our weekend trundling along the shore, munching on pasties & exploring the coast. Grand plans of driving out to tin mine museums and St Michael’s Mount and other Cornwall sights were dashed by a succession of Saturday venue closures (because as a tourist attraction, this is a great opportunity to avoid all those pesky tourists) and the aforementioned Sunday storm of the ages.

My mum read the caption, of course, and I didn’t, so I have no idea what this man is meant to memorialize or symbolize or inspire. He is, however, inspiring, and he is in Penzance in case anyone wants to educate me.
Sunset. Need I say – no filter added. 

Sunday morning, since it was only spitting and a balmy 40 degrees, I dragged Brad & the pooch out for a few short miles along the coast near Minack Theatre. Brad, terrified at the thought of a theatre and a potential obligation to be educated in the arts, was quite relieved to see that no shows were currently playing (see earlier note re: off-season).

This is not Minack Theatre. It turns out that you have to pay to get into the open-air Minack Theatre even if there is no play to be seen, which is disappointing and somewhat baffling. I staged my soliloquy in this watchtower instead. I thought maybe it was ancient and was happily picturing King Arthur’s knights staring out of it until Brad dashed all my hopes and dreams by pointing out that it was constructed of cinderblocks.

I managed to see enough of the coast to realize that it is a magical place and that it is entirely worth the awe-inspiring storms, the fearless traffic through walled-in roads that properly should just be one lane, and, maybe just, the holiday traffic. I’ll see you again in the summer sometime, Cornwall.

I will be back for you, Cornwall coast. Stay muddy.

 

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