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Published: October 29th 2006
'Cornwall is lovely but it is a long way away'. Is the response we got over and over again when we told people how we planned to spend our first English Easter. 'Far away', what are they talking about we thought to ourselves, 'we're from Australia, we know about far away!'. However we did heed our friends advice about how bad the traffic would be on Easter weekend and we were up at the crack of dawn ready to hit the road early after an essential hot cross bun or two. We made it through London and everything was going well until we hit the motorway and my navigation skills began to struggle. I somehow missed the turn off, and then proceeded to direct us around in circles for the next few hours undoing all the good work we'd done by getting up so early. We finally made it onto the right road, in the correct direction, and joined the queues of traffic that had by this time built up. Crawling at a snail's pace past Stonehenge did not seem like such a bad thing - after all it was a good way to see the sights without paying the entrance
fee - but after the queues continued all the way to the coast the novelty had certainly worn a bit thin. It took us nine hours in total for what can at times be done in only four and we did miss out on visiting the Eden Project on the way, but the view of the sparkling sea in St Ives made it worthwhile.
After negotiating the ridiculously narrow cobblestoned roads of the harbourside town we made it to the gorgeus campground perched on a grassy hill that overlooked Porthmeor Beach, one of St Ives two stunning golden sand beaches, and on out to sea and far off land. Despite the afternoon sun the air had a distinct chill and I thought it might be a chilly night as we set up our little tent, but it is very unlikely that we would have had a view as good as this from our bedroom window had we decided to stay in the comfort of a hotel or guesthouse.
Our long drive had left us feeling flat and hungry so we headed back down to the seafront and found ourselves a Cornish pasty. We had been looking forward to
these for weeks and they did not disappoint, the pastry was buttery and warm and the middle full of big chunks of meat and veggies. Of course we had to follow up with one of the famous Cornish icecreams, and icecream always tastes good when eaten amongst the seagulls, looking out to sea and watching the boats return to the harbour with their catch of the day. It was so good to hear the waves crashing against the sand, and smell the salty sea air after being in land-locked London for over ten months. We walked over a steep hill to the other side of the town and the even more beautiful Porthminster beach, a long stretch of pure golden sand backed by a steep cactus covered hill. At the end of the beach was a pretty little white restaurant complete with seaside balcony where an Australian chef was making a name for himself. We walked on up a steep hill past beautiful 1950s style hotels and gigantic houses with extensive gardens and the ever present view out to sea. St Ives was overflowing with families, couples and groups of friends all excited by the arrival of Easter and the
prospect of four days off work. The pubs were overflowing onto the streets and it was quite nice to head back to the peace of our campsite for a campstove dinner and bottle of wine.
Easter Saturday started out grey and windy which made for a very atmospheric bus trip along the narrow, hedge-lined roads which were covered in thick fog that blanketed the surrounding land. We made it to a tiny little town called Zennor (just the essentials: one pub, one church and a tiny little cafe). Despite its size it was apparently the one time home of DH Lawrence. The grey skies were still upon us so we treated ourselves to a hot drink sitting in the yard of the cafe - a converted church, and watched the water in the brook meander past us and a group of students preparing for a kayaking trip. Suitably warmed we made our way to the South West Coastal Path for the walk back to St Ives. The path is Britain's longest national trail and stretches for over 600 miles: the stretch we walked was a much more managable 6 miles, but if you believe what you read it is
one of the prettiest stretches of the whole trail. Luckily the weather held out and we only encountered a few spots of rain on our walk. The path hugged the cliffs for most of the way and moved gently up and down over the rolling hills with pretty wildflowers to view underfoot and a stunning view out to sea with the occasional boat gliding past every time you looked up. Being an extra long weekend we met a lot of people along the path and before we knew it we had been walking for three hours and were looking over the beautiful Porthmear Beach.
It was well past lunch time by now and we had been dreaming of eating fish and chips by the beach for weeks so we headed to the nearest 'chippy'. Unfortunately the experience was somewhat ruined by a very surly and rude teenager who obviously didn't want to be working on such a busy day. The seagulls, fresh sea breeze and view over the harbour somewhat made up for her attitude though. We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering through the cute cobblestoned streets of St Ives and I tried my best to get
Andrew to have a look in one of the art galleries that St Ives is so famous for, but to no avail! Once again the town was absolutely packed with holiday makers and we spent what seemed like hours wandering the streets that night trying to find a restaurant with a spare table. After much frustration we found a seat at a lovely seafood restaurant with a terrace overlooking the harbour. It was a little chilly watching the sunset from the balcony but nothing a glass of wine and an outdoor heater didn't fix.
We awoke to a much more promising day on Sunday, with blue skies and a bit of warmth in the sunshine. Our traditional Easter Sunday morning breakfast of hot cross buns was upheld - although I have to say the English do not know how to make hot cross buns like they do in Australia. Where is a Baker's Delight when you need one?
This was our day for getting out and seeing a bit more of Cornwall and the first stop was Cape Cornwall. Getting there was an adventure in itself driving along the narrow, windy roads just wide enough for two cars
to squeeze past each other if everyone breaths in, closely lined with either high hedges or old slate buildings. After Land's End was turned into an over-commercialised fairground Cape Cornwall is now the best alternative for standing on the edge of a wind-swept cliff, looking out to sea and feeling like you are at the end of the earth. It was beautiful.
Next stop was the amazing Minack Theatre which was even more incredible than the photographs and rave reviews we had heard. The theatre is an old stone amphitheatre-style venue set into a steep cliff and overlooking one of the most stunning beaches I have ever seen, with sparkling white sand, clear turquoise water and backed on all sides by steep sheltering cliffs (although I couldn't help thinking what a waste it was when for 99% of the year it is too cold to even contemplate going near the water!). A visit to the site is enhanced when you learn the story of how the theatre was built and the amazing woman behind its vision and execution: a strong and brave woman called Rowena Cade. She dreamt up the idea for the theatre in 1931 and designed, built
and managed the venue until her death in 1983. They could not afford granite to build the theatre so Rowena came up with the idea of shaping stones out of cement and the theatre seats are engraved with celtic designs which Rowena hand-carved into the stone. She also carried twelve 15ft beams of wood from a wrecked Spanish ship from the beach up to the theatre sight with her own bare hands to help with the building when she was no longer a young lady. During World War 2 the theatre was closed and hidden under barbed wire but it lived to see another play and a gun post that was built during that time has now been converted into the box office. It is a peaceful and serene spot to sit and contemplate the world and the beautiful warm sunshine that was now beating down on us made it very hard to leave.
When we managed to finally drag ourselves away from the theatre we made our way through what seemed like increasingly narrow roads, not only enclosed on both sides by the ever-present high hedges but also hidden from the sky by overhanging trees. It was a
beautiful, if somewhat exhilarating ride! We arrived in the cute village of Mousehole with its even narrower streets and more harrowing driving hindered by the buildings built right up to the roadside. We had been told it can be overrun with tourists but it seemed very sleepy on Easter Sunday afternoon. Across the water we could see our next stop for the afternoon, St Michael's Mount so we hit the road again, and drove on via Penzance in search of a crab sandwich for lunch (we were out of luck but did find a nice little cafe for a pit stop).
St Michael's Mount is a rocky island about 500 metres off the coast set atop with a medieval castle and church. At low tide it is possible to walk across to the island on a causeway, which we did but by the time we were ready to leave the tide was rapidly rising and it was a ferry ride back to shore. There were some determined souls though who kept setting out across the causeway as the water rose steadily higher, one with a child on his shoulders, and we watched in amazement thinking just how cold their
legs, feet and torsos were going to be by the time they made it to shore. Our visit to the castle and church were complimented by a performance of medieval dance and music that must have been a public holiday speciality and the views from the turet of the castle out across the water were once again beautiful.
After driving back to St Ives we finished off a great day with a few drinks overlooking the harbour from the Sloop Inn, a 14th century pub with tiny rooms and low ceilings. Walking back to our little tent we were treated to a stunning view over Porthmear Beach as the bright, round ball of a sun set over the sea casting pink and orange hues over the horizon as the last of the surfers enjoyed the last few waves of the day.
With a long drive back to London ahead of us and having been burnt with a bad run on the way down to Cornwall we were up quite early on Monday morning to pack our tent and hit the road. We had been plagued by problems with our camping stove for the whole trip and this morning
was to be no different. Andrew fought to get it alight to cook porridge for breakfast as I packed up the car around him. We gave up in frustration and headed to the local supermarket to pick up something that didn't need cooking to eat. As it turned out this was quite a blessing as we took our picnic to Porthminster Beach and sat on the near desserted soft white sand and enjoyed the beautiful light that comes with early mornings. It is a memory and image that has stayed in my mind and reminds me of our Easter in Cornwall often. And the drive back to London was not nearly as long and frustrating as the way down!
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virginia manson
non-member comment
a wonderful trip
I can empathise with the traffic jam after our trip to Bath but yours sounds worse. Your certainly had a picturesque weekend.