Cornwall – Carn Euny and Botallack

Yesterday inadvertently turned into History Corner with a couple of trips to sites bearing witness to Cornwall’s past.

Having now purchased some milk the night before, we could relax and take our morning cups in the jovial Port Meirion ‘Crazy Daisy’ crockery that the house contained. It was a Sunday after all and neither of us felt like rushing. For me especially, after having made a decision to not run at all this week (Parkrun aside, of course), a glorious laziness crept over me. I had packed four rounds of kit with the full intention of keeping up my twenty-five miles a week target. But given that my marathon training officially begins again from next Monday, this week falls at just the right time to have a proper break.

Carn Euny was our first stop on our magical history tour. And walking from the car park to the site felt rather magical as we stooped through some green tunnels. Bizarrely, a lot of the foliage was bamboo but there were also huge fuchsia bushes dangling some of their lovely flowers over our heads. The sun had been shining in the morning, but as we reached the area, the clouds darkened and within ten minutes, a fine misty shower came down while we walked about.

It was a good time to find the famous fogou (pronounced ‘foogoo’) that these westernmost Cornish settlements were famous for. This is an underground walkway and space found in a number of these Iron Age villages in Cornwall. There is no evidence of what their specific use was, but speculation ranges from a place of worship to food storage. We found both entrances simultaneously as Anne had wandered around the far side of the area. Needing to stoop again to get below the entrance lintel, it opened into a more accommodating passageway. And was dry, if you didn’t touch the green tinged stone walls. In the middle there was an opening into a circular underground room, and standing here, it felt eerie, knowing these spaces had been dug out and used, for whatever purpose, two thousand years ago. I was almost afraid to touch the wall in case I had an Outlander moment and got swept back in time. I think I’m too soft to survive that period. They wouldn’t have had Crazy Daisy crockery.

Outside, the rain had ceased and we could see the markings of several dwellings. I find these places a little bit spooky, like you’re walking around in amongst ghosts, but it is fascinating, imagining the stone walls all in place and the roofs neatly thatched. Sidestepping a sheep or goat being herded into the neighbouring paddock, while someone grinds the grain on the millstone, and children run about, laughing and shouting in high pitched voices, as children still do.

We left these ruins and headed to some others, on the coast at Botallock where the remnants of some of Cornwall’s copper and tin mines stand. Parts of the series Poldark was filmed here, but they had to green screen out some sections that had been built as coastal defences during World War II. There are a few standing engine houses and chimneys, on the edges of the cliff. The actual mining was done under the sea bed, and when industry was in full production during the eighteen hundreds, the seas around this coast were stained red with the effluence of the industry.

Today, although it’s a real shame that Cornwall, now one of the poorer counties in the country, lost such a prized asset as their tin, copper and arsenic production, the seas do look a beautiful aquamarine, and there seems to be an abundance of wildlife. We saw Cornish choughs and a peregrine falcon to name but two. There were many more people roaming the tracks and paths here than at Carn Euny. Perhaps because this place had a cake and coffee shop. Plus the sun had properly decided to make an entrance, which always helps.

I keep seeing the signs for the South West Coast Path, and part of me does want to pull my trail shoes on and have a good old jog/walk along some of it. It’s unbelievably long, 630 miles, and in many places arduously hilly. Maybe one day, I’ll come back and do some sections, but not this week.