Cornwall – Land’s End and Sennen Cove

I haven’t done any travel blogging for a while, mainly because we haven’t done much in the way of travelling, so as we’re down in the depths of Cornwall for a week I thought I would.

Friday – Driving

We knew, despite Google Maps suggesting it would take six and a half hours, that the whole day would be taken up with driving. So we decided to embrace the journey and have a couple of choice pit stops along the way to chunk up the drive.

Firstly: Gloucester Services (2.5hrs). Same firm as Tebay Services in Penrith but newer, with a lovely bit of water out the back where we could sit and have our homemade sausage butties and watch the dragonflies and a family of moorhens hanging out. I know the food served here is very good. Freshly made, real food, as opposed to giving space Burger King and the like, but for a week’s holiday we had to use up the contents of the fridge. This had also forced me to finish off last night’s risotto for breakfast at seven that morning which wasn’t all that much of a hardship really.

Secondly: over the Tamar Bridge into Cornwall and west to Liskeard (3hrs) where one of my Open University buddies lives, in a converted church (house envy much?). We came in time for a cream tea – homemade scones with jam and cream. It was actually so lovely to meet in reality after months of zoom chats and emails.

The final leg was supposed to take less than 2 hours. We made it to our new abode in just over 3, at around seven in the evening, because of some crazy long tailbacks around Truro where they’re widening the A30. Surprisingly, I did not have any road rage rants en route, and we weren’t too exhausted on our arrival. After whacking the Prosecco into the freezer, I unpacked while Anne knocked up a bit of pasta and pesto from our home stores. The owners had left us another cream tea but we were all sconed out.

Saturday – Land’s End Parkrun and Sennen Cove

What they hadn’t left us was any milk, which meant a morning cup of tea was out. The bungalow that we call home is kind of in the middle of nowhere, being just outside the very small town of St Just, so I couldn’t quite nip to the Co-op, like at home. Which was why Anne decided to get up early and come with me to Land’s End, less than fifteen minutes’ drive. It was a stunning morning – possibly the best day of the week, looking at the forecast. And I decide to do Parkrun?

But it is Land’s End Parkrun. You have to.

Here’s the thing. It was a win-win situation. We had to get up early to get there. We got to park for free because of my participation in said activity. Anne got a nice coffee at the hotel, and a bit of sketching in, while us runners and walkers did our thing. There isn’t a huge amount to do there apart from take a picture of the signpost and watch some waves crash against the cliffs.  I was done by half 9 and after a flannel wash and a full change of clothes in the public toilets, was ready for the day.

There were just over a hundred of us and the run director asked, in a switch from the usual question, how many of us were local. Only a few hands went up so most of us were tourists, which was lucky, as I don’t think the course could hold many more than were there. But it was a lovely out-and-back (twice) which afforded some stunning views of the coastline.

The route, if it had carried on instead of doubling back, would have taken us up to Sennen Cove, only perhaps another mile or so along the South West Coast Path. Anne and I drove there later via a more inland route, in time for some brunch. This is a village with a lot more about it than Land’s End. Golden sands for one thing. It also has a few nice places to eat and drink that didn’t look like tacky end-of-the-pier amuse bouches. We spent the whole afternoon there, on the beach, eating ice cream and watching the students of surf school attempt to stay on their boards. We could have been in the Mediterranean judging by the colour of the sea. And surprisingly, the beach wasn’t overly crowded. There was space enough for people to have kickabouts and throw a frisbee without slicing any heads off.

Anne got her paints out and I read a little but mainly people-watched and had a nice lazy afternoon. We eventually headed back via St Just, to have a nose there and pick up some much needed milk. Some nice cafes but one of the pubs we ventured into and quickly ventured out of again reminded me of a scene in American Werewolf in London. That’s all I’ll say.