You have been here before

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Time was winding down for me in the UK, and I was feeling restless. Our trip to London a couple of weekends before was great fun, but I needed to see some more country side before travelling back to the US.

My colleague Noshela and I hopped in our little red car for a trip to Cornwall. We could not have asked for better weather; once again the sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky. We loaded my small back pack in, along with Noshela's friend and all of his belongings--we were dropping him off in the coastal town of New Quay before heading to our destination for the night.

The thing about coastal towns is that they are all about summer--cold Coronas with lime, surf, sand, and salt. Even in New Quay there was a little Mexican cantina right on the beach. It sounded pretty good--but as I said--New Quay was battened down for the winter. We fortified ourselves with some tasy Thai food before heading to our hostel for the night.

We arrived in Padstow just after dark, and having already eaten, headed for the beach to watch the stars come out one by one. A 3/4 moon lit our way as we climbed up on a huge rock. It was good to sit quietly. Both of us reflected on how we got here, and how our paths may have never crossed. It had been a while since I was with somebody and not talking. A couple of hours later, the tide was beginning to come up and we decided to call it a night.

Sunday started out cold but sunny. We drove about 20 minutes down to Tintagel. When we first arrived to town, I noticed a poem written in stone across a wall "Looking forward, looking after, looking as if for the first time.... You have been here before."

As we stepped out of the car I thought, "this is where legends are made and I can see why". The legend of King Arthur was born here, and as we made our way down to the Tintagel ruins, I could just imagine epic battles being fought and won; I thought of cold winter nights in a dank, cold, stone castle, with everyone gathered around a fireplace drinking tankards of ale; and of Merlin the sorcerer finding baby Arthur near his cave. Are the legends true? I don't know. I have read that there was a king who lived here long ago, and judging from the ruins, quite a community.

As we climb around the cliff tops, I forget about the legend, and instead, I lose myself in the blue of the sky, the sparkling green ocean, and the sun, finally warming us enough to lose our down jackets. Off to one side, I could see a stone set into the grass on the cliff "Turning back home...." the quote began.

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Photos

Padstow
Our hostel was only a few feet away!

Sunset
On the way to Padstow