A Cornish adventure

It's been so long since I last wrote anything that I'm not sure I'll be able to find my flow - but I'm certainly going to try. Please bear with me.

Not entirely sure what's slowed my writing down of late. I guess life just gets in the way sometimes So, to escape it all and disappear to Cornwall for a few days this Half Term was just what was needed.

'Magical' has been my word of choice when asked how the trip was. The sun, the sky, the sea. The colours, the smells, the sounds. All magical. I feel very lucky to have gone when I did; to get so lucky with the weather, to beat the worst of the summer crowds, and to fit so much in yet to still feel rested. I'm sure there's a reason I'm compelled to write again.

Although I spend a lot of time solo, especially walking, I'd never truly been away on a solo adventure, so this was a first for me and I'm so glad I did it, and can't wait for the next one.

I think St Ives was a particularly good choice for solo travel. It made a great base for the few days I was away for a number of reasons. It felt safe, there was plenty going on, and it was really well connected.

I've taken to driving quite a bit recently, but this time I was back on the train again. And maybe I thought I'd write then, as I had around 5 and a half hours to do so, but instead I spent my time in both directions admiring the view and just.. being. Stopping. Not something I allow myself to do often enough at all. Train travel also meant I was able to enjoy local beers (and the occasional Aperol Spritz) without having to think about responsibility later. And it meant that I didn't have to think about finding parking or driving along tricky roads. 

Instead, I made the most of local buses; of which there are several, and one of them was even open-top (cue the excitement)..

My journey began on the 08:03 from Paddington, which meant I was in St Ives for lunchtime. Dropped my bags at the Airbnb where I was staying (a 15 minute walk from the station.. 'oh, that's nothing', I thought. But my gosh is St Ives / that part of Cornwall generally HILLY. Sure my hosts were really encouraged by the sweaty mess that arrived on their doorstep..), and made my way back down to the harbour in search of food. 

Was hopeful for a crab sandwich (when in Cornwall), but the Cornish Deli had already sold out, so I settled for a Po Boy and a bottle of oat stout instead which I enjoyed on the slipway taking stock of how far I'd come and where I'd ended up. 

With just an afternoon for exploring, I decided to stick to town, and wandered a little further - around the harbour and up to St Ives Head - before heading back to my room for checking in and a bit of a post-journey rest. 

Thought it would be nice to catch the sunset on my first evening so far West. Always one to want to know where the 'best' sunset spots are, I took to Google, and found a description for a 'short walk' to a viewpoint where I'd be away from the crowds and would be rewarded by a wonderful sunset.. well.. in true Laura-on-an-adventure-style, my success was limited. Indeed, one thing I hadn't really factored in was that the sunset in Cornwall was actually half an hour later than sunsets in London because of how far West I actually was. So that meant that setting out for my walk more than an hour before sunset was maybe a bit keen.

Another thing I've really learned about myself this holiday (although I wonder if I already knew at least a little bit before) is that it's not only because of their roundness that I particularly enjoy a circular walk. A straight walk just.. keeps going. And so do I. 

Well, before I knew it, my little legs were tired, and I wasn't really sure where I was going but I knew for sure that I hadn't come across the viewpoint as described on Google. So, my first sunset was enjoyed from the front seat on the top deck of my first local bus. I was relieved on my return to find that fish and chip shops in St Ives stay open fairly late in May, and very much enjoyed a Cornish sausage and chips with a can of pilsner from the Harbour Fish and Chips on a bench back at the harbour again. I'm nothing if not classy.

The next morning, I was up bright and early and off in search of breakfast in town before another journey on the 17 bus - this time to Penzance and on to Newlyn and Mousehole. 

Probably quite unsurprisingly, my coffee from at Sea of Coffee was a good one, and went particularly well with an egg and mushroom bap which I enjoyed with a view while I waited for the bus at the top of the hill overlooking (you've guessed it).. the harbour! 

A little slower than expected (although according to my local guide, not an unexpected delay at all), I was happy enough with my front top seat again (or should that be top front seat?) pootling along through fields with a view of the sea, and felt like the arrival into Penzance happened in no time at all, really.

An eager Sarah waiting to greet me at the bus station was a wonderful sight! And we were soon stomping along the prom through Newlyn - where we encountered several nests housing gull chicks - and on to Mousehole, a place I've wanted to visit since first reading The Mousehole Cat many moons ago.

Pasties on the beach with our toes in the sand did not disappoint. We wandered a little around the harbour (they do really seem to like those in Cornwall), and up through the streets in search of a pathway that I was assured would lead us to a pretty dramatic viewpoint.

Turns out Sarah is much better at finding viewpoints than me. The path was rather overgrown in early Summer, but bramble scratches and nettle stings along the path were deemed worth it as we emerged and were met with the most incredible views from the clifftop over the sea and down to the crashing waves below.

Probably could have stayed all afternoon, but eventually we tore ourselves away and stopped off at The Old Coastguard for an actual swift half before making our way back along the coast path to Newlyn where we enjoyed delicious pasta, excellent wine, and the most incredible Cornish cheeses with Sarah's parents.

I was back at Penzance bus station and on the number 17 all too soon. This time, no front seat available, so I sat at the back like a cool kid with the teenage boys (not quite literally).. did mean I missed yet another sunset, but it was worth it for a day of beautiful adventure in the most wonderful company.

My penultimate day arrived all too soon, but it was a day truly well spent.

Breakfast this time was from Crafted Coffee; another good coffee place (again, probably unsurprising) and with tasty pastries too, I was set for my open-top bus ride and plans to walk some more of the South West Coast Path.

Began with some trepidation as I was met quite early on in my walk by a drunkard also 'exploring' one of the old mines at Levant. Definitely kept me moving a little quicker to begin with, and after traipsing down a fairly long road from the bus stop, I soon found myself on my first stretch of coast path and headed to Botallack.

Definitely worth a visit, and really the main reason why I was drawn to this particular part of Cornwall in the first place (Poldark fans will understand), I had great fun exploring the ruins at Botallack and was pleased to find that although there were a few other tourists doing the same, it was definitely possible to avoid each other in the expanse.

The small café at Botallack only served tea and cake, and I was in need of lunch by this point, so I was directed on to Geevor Mine where I found a panini and a cup of tea to fuel me for my onward journey. 

Having bought an all-day ticket for the bus (the excitement got the better of me), I decided to cheat a little. So I headed back to the coast path to do another short stretch before coming back into the village of Pendeen where I hopped back on the bus as far as Zennor and my walk continued.

Zennor to St Ives was about 6 miles, so I figured I'd be back in time for tea (and this time, I actually was). The sun having made an appearance at this point, I probably could have covered it quicker if not for the fact that I kept stopping every few metres to admire the view at every twist and turn which just continually changed all the way along. I loved the fact that I'd be by myself for long periods, but would occasionally encounter walkers headed in the other direction; from those committed with overnight bags on their backs, to families walking together and even one woman in her sandals (not quite sure how she managed some of the rockier bits, I must say). There were rocks aplenty, and much of the 'walk' was more of a climb which was great fun. I also enjoyed the appearance of streams from time to time as well as just how vast the landscape was on either side. 

St Ives coming into view as I rounded the final headland was a welcome sight. I treated myself to an Aperol Spritz at the beach bar, and headed straight for the sea for a cool (freezing) paddle. 

My final evening, and it was third time lucky for a sunset. Timed my arrival into St Ives just right, and was able to grab some fish and chips at The Balancing Eel (never have I waited so long for fish and chips, but it was worth it) which I took to a spot on the cliffs up by St Nicholas Chapel away from seagulls and fellow tourists. Nothing like the vastness of the sea and a setting sun to put things into perspective. It was perfect (maybe even more so because my phone had finally given up the ghost, and I was forced to just enjoy the moment for once).

I'd booked my return train to London for the afternoon so that I could cram in a little more holiday on the day of checkout. And first on the agenda was a boat trip to see the seals that I was a little too high up to spot the previous day from the coast path above.

It was just myself and two families aboard the Dolly P, which worked out quite well as they were all keen to sit in the centre of the boat to shelter from the sea spray, while I was more than happy to sit at the back of the boat and get a little bit soggy. Our crew were two lifeboatmen which meant we were in more than capable hands, and one also happened to be a marine mammal medic, so was armed with facts a-plenty about the marine life in and around Cornwall. We were lucky enough to see lots of seabirds on our way round the coast, and plenty of seals sunning themselves on the rocks of Seal Island, so it was a trip worth taking.

Back on dry land, the search for crab began again, and this time I was pleased to find The Slipway serving a crab and Cornish cheese toastie which I took down to the beach and ate keeping a very close eye on the approaching tide and greedy gulls. 

Up to this point, I realised I hadn't actually braved the high-street, so I decided to take a wander along it and in and out of the various gift shops for a spot of souvenir shopping. Final stops were to Moomaid of Zennor for dark chocolate sorbet with a fudge stick, and last but not least, to St Ives Brewery for one more local beer with a slightly different view over the harbour, which I could definitely never tire of.

Sintra

From having not been away away in forever, to a sudden flurry of trips, I've not been able to keep up with myself!

So, I write this first post (possibly of 4, maybe even 5.. strap in!) in retrospect. Hopeful that I haven't forgotten anything, but also aware that realistically, I probably will have. One thing I won't forget in a hurry is the feeling I had as I lay on a yoga mat in the middle of an enchanted forest in Portugal, having only been at work less than 24-hours before. Pure bliss. Surreal, but pure bliss.

I think booking a retreat for our first adventure abroad in over two years was definitely the right thing to do. It was an utterly magical day among a small group of lovely women, in a really beautiful setting. We shared. Experiences, stories, expression, an enchanting space, a delicious lunch; it felt like a real 'welcome back'. And even 3 months on, I'm still carrying the energy with me. I'm still asking the questions; still keen to learn more. Someone actually suggested the other day that I should blog about my yoga journey. If I do, I think the Sintra retreat might be where I start.

But, for now, I'll move on to the evening after. Having arrived in the dark on the previous evening in a taxi that hurtled along the narrow, cobbled streets the wrong way (my Portuguese may be next to non-existent, but I can still recognise signs for one-way streets), then headed straight out to the retreat the next morning, we hadn't really had time to get our bearings.

So, when our day in the forest came to a close, we wandered slowly back to our apartment; taking a little more time to admire Sintra in all its fairy-tale glory (made even more charming in the evening sun). That evening, we learned that we'd be eating a lot of bacalhau, especially at the particular restaurant we had chosen where they served nothing but (it's cod, by the way). 

The next day, the weather had turned. But it was dry, so we headed to Cascais for a day by the sea. Found a nice, sheltered spot on a small beach in a bay where we stayed until lunch; people watching, splashing in the sea, and telling ourselves that it definitely was just about bikini weather..

One of the women at the retreat had recommended a place in Cascais by the lighthouse which offered live radio and good food. So, we walked there for lunch along the waterfront and past some interesting buildings (and a volleyball tournament (we didn't stop)).

Sam was glad that we opted to climb the lighthouse before eating, as once at the top, she may have otherwise lost her lunch. In going up when we did, we also seemed to beat the crowd. Sat at the bottom looking up as we ate, it certainly seemed a lot more popular all of a sudden (we're clearly just such trend-setters).

After food, we were back on the bus, and on our way to another recommended spot; Adraga Beach.

The weather had still not improved, but having grown up spending time on Norfolk beaches in all weathers, in all seasons, we were not deterred. Seemed this particular beach was a popular spot with surfers; we were taken aback by the power of the waves as we wandered along the sand, and between rocks.

As much as we didn't want to tear ourselves away, we were aware that time was pressing on, and we were ever-so-slightly in the middle of nowhere (eek!) with a fairly hefty walk back up a hill to where we'd be catching the bus.

Well, Google Maps failed us. And while there's a fairly long story here somewhere, I'll spare you the details and just say that we were truly grateful to the elderly gentleman who entertained us with his fashioning (and testing) of some sort of pan flute made from plastic tubing, as we sat on the kerb outside his house. He really did sound surprisingly good!

Eventually, the bus came (of course not before two others that couldn't take us where we needed to go appeared) and it was back to town for dinner and an early night to recover.

Aahh, the Pena Palace. Just when we thought the weather couldn't get any better, it didn't. It got worse. A whole lot worse. But in true British-tourist style, we powered on through (well, and we were lulled into a slightly false sense of security as we headed out into sunshine in the town itself in the morning).

..actually, it wasn't exactly sunny, was it?

One thing we learned about Sintra is that it's a bit of a micro-climate. And as our bus climbed up the mountain rounds, there was a distinct shift. The Pena Palace of pictures was barely visible as we reached the end of the line for entry. It was comical, really, how determined we all were to have a nice time as we stood in the queue being battered by wind and horizontal rain. Some of us had been sensible enough to have at least something waterproof to hand, but many of us had not (although, as I tried to reason, skin is waterproof.. isn't it?).

Maybe not what we'd expected, it was still an experience and we made the best of it. The cloud did clear up at least enough to appreciate the palace's colourful facade, and our walk through the gardens was at least dry.

The Castle of the Moors, we both agreed, would definitely make for a lovely family day out on a bright and sunny day. We soldiered on, but by this point, we really were getting very wet, and could barely see where we were going as we climbed up steps and along the ruined walls, let alone admire any views of the town and countryside below. Wet through to our unmentionables, it was time to swallow our pride and call it a day.

A warm shower, and a swift change into some dry clothes back at the apartment, we found ourselves in a lovely little restaurant almost right next door, where the waiter (possibly the owner, too) was very keen for us to try the desserts he'd just whipped up for the evening service. We did, and they were delicious.

Having abandoned our palace / castle crawl the previous day, we resolved to fit one more in before we would make our way back to Lisbon for our flight home.

Maybe it was in part an improvement in the weather, but I think either way we both agreed that we'd saved the best til last. Much of the palace itself was closed off for refurbishment, but the gardens were great fun to explore. We enjoyed spiralling down into the depths of the well, crossing various bridges, climbing towers, and walking through the grotto.

Finally, after a bite to eat, it was time to collect our luggage from the Tourist Information office and board a train to Lisbon.

Having spent longer than we anticipated in Sintra in the morning, our Lisbon exploration was brief, and a little bit frantic. But it was nice to crash a honeymoon (don't worry, they were expecting us), and to enjoy refreshment while enjoying a view over the sea in the sunshine (typical). Oh, and there was definitely time for tram hysteria, so that was good.

I think a few days away was the perfect amount to ease us into holiday-ing again. And it was very grounding (if that's the right word) to see people we knew. A very special trip, all round, really. Maybe we'll be back for more retreating in the not too distant future. I hope.

Bath

Yesterday I finally paid a visit to a friend in Bath. I say finally, it's not actually taken me as long to get there as these visits usually do. I was last in Bath as a teenager with my family as we made our way back from a holiday to somewhere (I imagine it must have been the holiday to Dorset) and my memories of Bath then were not brilliant. That day, I was tired and miserable as teenagers usually are and as someone who was also living in the flatlands of Norfolk at that time, I was not impressed at having to walk up anything even slightly resembling a hill.

As the train pulled into the station yesterday morning, however, I realised how much I've grown in my appreciation of pretty much everything since my teenage years as I was absolutely astonished at Bath's beauty from the tracks. Hills are still scary but they sure do make places look even more striking!

Stepping onto the freezing cold platform, I did feel like I was stepping into a period drama in my fur, leather gloves and (can I call them) elegant boots. The hissing noise of the train as it sat in the platform followed by the slamming of carriage doors and the whistle being blown tipped of my transportation to another time, but not another place. I was almost expecting to be greeted by horse and cart... I'm so fanciful.

Whilst on the train I had made what I hoped was a relatively comprehensive list of things to do during the day. I knew that I wanted to return to things I had seen before in the hope that I would appreciate them more this time but I also wanted to do things we didn't get time for before as well as venturing to a pretty National Trust park I had spied online that very morning.

Armed with my list, we first wandered to the Royal Crescent, through The Circus, passing many other pieces of architectural interest along the way. A row of terraced houses standing in, well, a crescent with the greenest of grass below for residents only, it really is a place straight out of a Jane Austen novel. Despite the freezing cold, the sun was shining so we agreed I'd chosen a good day for a visit and it was in fact perfect weather for wandering. At this point, even my 'elegant boots' seemed appropriate too.

From the Royal Crescent, we wandered back towards the city centre for a cup of tea and to get our bearings. The café we chose was situated right on top of Pulteney Bridge where we enjoyed a pot of Earl Grey and the biggest and yummiest Rocky Road ever with a pretty view over the waters below. Here we looked up the Prior Park and Landscape Garden, a National Trust property which turned out to be a short half an hour walk from where we were. We endeavoured therefore to make our way there before lunch and while the sun was still shining.

A short walk feels an awful lot shorter when it's not uphill the entire way. I'm not complaining, honestly. But I definitely don't now feel at all compelled to join a gym this month. I've had my fill. When we arrived at the park, we were greeted by the most over-enthusiastic National Trust employee who was shocked that we, when under 26, were not members; she certainly had us questioning it but I've decided that National Trust membership requires a car and absolute commitment to make the most of it which I'm not entirely sure I would do. Maybe next year.

Once in the park, we were given the sweetest map in the guise of a scroll complete with 'wax' seal. Apparently starting at the top meant it was literally all down hill from then on, so we decided we'd made the right decision, even when we did see others who looked like they were heading to the same destination taking an alternative route much further down. Around we wandered and were almost instantly met with a very impressive view over the city. By now, the sun was shining less but fortunately it was still very clear and after our mission up the hill, we were also feeling a lot less cold.

Now downhill had sounded wonderful until I remembered what was on my feet. I think upon getting dressed in the morning I had thought to myself 'city  visit' and it was only when suddenly faced with slipping and sliding down icy and muddy paths that I was feeling a lot less elegant. Never one to be truly practically dressed, I made the best of it and remarkably survived the experience completely unscathed. 

The map led us through woodland and across a field full of enormous mounds apparently created by ants which was a pretty terrifying thought. We hoped that the fact they were frozen pretty solid meant that we would not be encountering any of these ants. As we came out of the woodland, there was a beautiful tree swing with the comfiest seat and sturdy ropes so of course we had to have a go for a while. There really is not much better than a swing! From above we could now see the bridge across the lake that had first drawn me to the garden in pictures online. So we made our way down.

Another filmic moment, I half expected Mr Darcy to suddenly appear or for Bingley to be pacing up and down in a flutter. Needless to say, there were no moments of passion shared on this particular day and instead we admired the ancient graffiti and the artistic placement of the bridge in relation to the mansion which stood tall on the hill above. It was a really wonderful construction.

As we made our way from the bridge to the exit, we were distracted by a sign to the Ice House which of course we had to investigate. They really do fascinate me, particularly as this one was so far away from the main house. It's a funny thing to imagine using one as your fridge with chunks of ice from the lake.

Leaving the park by the exit at the bottom rather than dragging ourselves back up the hill. we then found ourselves wandering past a 15th century church and so many beautiful houses before we were finally back in the city in time for some lunch. Our feet took a well deserved rest for a toastie and a lemonade and here we made plans for the afternoon. 

Top of my list was Bath Abbey so it was here that we decided to go next. It was suggested that we not only went inside but also took a tour of the towers which of course I was keen to do. Something wonderful about Bath is their Discovery Pass for local residents which means those that live in the city can make the most of the many attractions without having to bankrupt themselves. Take note, London.

Once in the Abbey, we booked onto the next tour which gave us plenty of time to warm up as we wandered around inside, admiring the ceiling and many unique crests on display in the stained glass windows. After the first hundred and something steps, we realised how cruel we were being to our legs and I feared a heart attack might strike me upon my return to London. Yet here I am writing this today so I guess I survived. Having woken up at 20 past 8 though and with it now being quarter to 1, I can safely say I have only moved from my bed in order to make two cups of a tea and a bowl of cereal and to visit the bathroom (not yet for a shower; I'm very much still in my pyjamas). 

The views from the top were worth the reward though as we first looked through a strange hole in the stone ceiling which was a mere 4 inches thick at the pews and unsuspecting people below. Climbing higher still, we were introduced to the bells and regaled with many stories of their terror. It's got to be a bit sad that I actually do find church bells quite so fascinating. I guess it's what comes from climbing so many towers about the place. The higher we climbed, the better the views became. Views of London sure are hard to beat but it was lovely to see a lack of cranes for a change!

I think we actually chose the perfect time to be on top of the Abbey because the sun began to set as we made our way back down. After being confronted with a half an hour wait at every restaurant we tried for lunch, we had decided that we'd manage something small then and booked ourselves a table for early evening before I had to catch my train home. We ended up eating at The Cosy Club which had a lovely vintage feel and provided us with very tasty food indeed. 

Time to go home and I was safe in the knowledge that I would sleep well! I'm pleased to have made some new memories in Bath although I never did blame the city for my being such a misery guts last time, I just didn't have the most pleasant recollection. It's a truly beautiful place and I hope to return perhaps in the summer months. Surely a spa experience is next on the list...