Sea, Sunshine and Pasties…

After mum’s party we loaded up the car and headed west in search of the illusive British summer.

We had arranged to take mum and dad to a little place that we know in the middle of the Devon countryside as a birthday gift. First though we stopped in at Castle Drogo, a grand stately home built when people had the fancy for showing off with a country estate and imposing building. And it was quite a statement too, though you can see with the amount of upkeep required and the tragic story about the family during the war, how it became too much to keep on as times changed and the appetite for ostentatious displays of wealth diminished.

Our present was for an evening at the quaint Nobody Inn at Doddiscombsleigh. A historic old pub in the heart of the countryside with a reputation for hospitality, good food, and whiskey (many hundreds to choose from of which I had to sample a couple).

Refreshed and refuelled we set out the next day for Cornwall stopping on the way at another stately home, Lanhydrock. Another fabulous building that is so over the top that benefits from still having much of the servants wing intact with the large kitchens, bakery, cold rooms, dairy and sculleries open to view. Though it is the grand halls where the family entertained and displayed their wealth and status that were outrageously impressive.

Soon though we were at Perranporth a gem of a place on the Cornish north coast with the sea glistening in the sunshine, the sand glowing golden and the sunbathers’ crimson we had arrived on our summer holiday.

We stayed in the faded and perhaps once plush Ponsmere Hotel situated right on the edge of the beach it commanded a great view across the wide and deep beach. But the hotel was just somewhere to get our head down and we were soon out soaking up the sun’s rays.

During our stay there we met up with family friends who lived there and together we dined at the lovely little Del Mar Italian Restaurant where we enjoyed good food, great company and a little wine too.

One of our favourite places to visit in Perrenporth is the bar on the beach, The Watering Hole sitting on the sand provides an ideal place to while away a few hours drink in hand as you watch the quite amazing sights than choose to wander past in all too little clothing for way too much flesh.

Using our National Trust cards to the max we travelled up the coast to the town shrouded in myth and legend but at Tintagel we did not visit the castle (supposed home of King Arthur) but instead we visited the tiny Old Post Office built before people had invented rulers and straight lines.

The town’s population had swelled as we exited back onto the street, with coach loads of tourists eager to see the ruins of Tintagel Castle. From experience I can say that there really isn’t much there to warrant the trek out to the headland, though the weird shops full of crystals, dragons and other new-age items is quite entertaining to wander around.

So instead we decided to drive off to Padstow, or Pad-Stein as it is known with affection for its well known chef Rick Stein, who owns several establishments there. We had an enjoyable time walking the busy streets and sampled locally made pasties and later an ice-cream by the docks.

On our way back to the hotel we stopped at the delightful little country house of Trerice where they allow you to touch replica items associated with the period when it was built. The chain mail armour was surprisingly heavy.

The next day we had made arrangements with an old friend to meet at her home that looks out across to St Michaels Mount where, after a short catch up, we visited taking the boat out and climbing the steep, uneven path to the towers above. As it was Sunday there was a service in the chapel provided by the bishop. It was another glorious day and by the time we had toured around, had lunch at the small hamlet below; the tide had gone out enough for us to walk back across the causeway. We then had tea and cakes with our host at her house before driving off to see St Ives. Here it was heaving and we could not find a suitable space to stop so we decided to avoid the crowds and try and find a pub we had been brought to some years before that we remembered was quite nice.

In the evening sun the Ferryboat Inn on the banks of the North Helford Passage is more than just nice, it was idyllic. Children played in the water in rowboats, rubber rings, canoes or just splashing about. Sailing boats passed by along the estuary and cruisers motored back. A small ferry took people across from one side to another, to or from the pub. And we sat their soaking it all in. Mum had half a pint of prawns, Sue and dad had fisherman’s platters and I had whitebait and we watched as the sun dipped towards the horizon.

Lost Gardens of Heligan was our first stop on our long journey home. Sue and I had been before but it was some time ago, not long after they had opened it up again and we certainly notice big changes to the gardens, how they had matured and how extra areas were now open to view.

At the nearby Eden Project Sue and I stopped at the café as mum and dad went down to explore the domes (we had been before and didn’t want to spend that much seeing them again).

Our route back was similar to the one down and where we had stopped briefly near Stonehenge on the way down, this time we stopped at the Route 303 Bar ‘n’ Grill, a somewhat different experience but still fun.

Eventually we arrived home safe and sound and happy to fall into our own beds, glad to have finally had our summer holiday.