Trying on the Kernow Tartan

Marazion, United Kingdom

Brother and Sister Greetings from Kernow (Cornwall). It’s been nearly exactly two weeks since Dad and I arrived here and we have flourished with her narrow hedge-lined laneways, her smiling chy (and tre) folk, her stoned built free houses and her low gas real ales (love ’em). I’m especially proud of Dad after we made it trekking the coast line from St Ives to the strategically-important Porthcurno over the last 4 days (admittedly day two was a rest day!). We saw many a surfer but no basking sharks. Many a grey seal but no Zennor mermaids. But rarely as it happens we did see a pair of Cornish Choughs! Tonight after a pint or two at Goldsithney’s Crown Inn, cousin Howard (my Dad’s distant relative – a Curnow – was a brother to Howard’s distant relative circa 1650) brought out the Kernow tartan in the form of a kilt and vest. It was a tartan that he’d designed himself to represent the Curnow Clan. While reminiscent of the Cornish tartan it’s predominance of purple was happily acknowledged. While the long Land’s End days persisted I counted the badger setts in the hedge rows and cast my wind-bashed face toward St Michel’s Mount (Penzance) once more. Feeling her miles now etched in my thighs (from days walked thus) I turned from her rising landscape to one where your neighbour is your keeper. Kernow bys vyken (Cornwall forever) Chris PS: Off to Copenhagen Saturday night for three days of family reunion (mum’s side), then Helsinki to Russia.