Author Archives: planetlars

Bodmin, United Kingdom

Today was the Eden Project day. Despite the hype and the expectation it was an awe-inspiring endeavour to behold – giant bubble wrapped geodesic domes, taught, tight and transparent plastic. After an hour in the rainforest dome – perspiring and humid – the Mediterranean dome was a pleasant change. Saw the giant Fibonacci egg/seed hewn from a solid piece of granite. Onwards to course steep narrow hedge-rowed lane ways en route to the Bodmin Moors. Came across a high lake/reservoir. Walked into the mist with wandering horses. And then found a small back road pub at Alternun, called The Rising Sun. A beacon in the mid-summer sunlit eve. Rifles on the wall. Gentry and commoners alike. Drove back to Howard’s rest along the misty A30. And helped Howard make props for the public celebration of the 200 anniversary of the Marazion town hall clock, that he’d organised almost single-handedly for the following day (I made a cardboard weather vane).

The Lizard, United Kingdom

In the morning we visited Howard’s sister Florence and her husband Terry at their place just of St Ives, In Hayle. At 1300 we headd of toward Bodmin Moor, but changed our plan en route and made a southerly diversion through back roads toward The Lizard – Great Britain’s most southerly point. Passed through a small coast town looking for the seal rehab clinic but didn’t go in. Had lunch at the beach near where Marconi made his first wireless transmissions. After the sun and crimson flowered pig-faced cliffs of The Lizard we headed back to Helston and to the oldest brewery and pub in these parts – The Blue Anchor,s serving a delicious and delectable assortment of Spingo Ales. Howard came on the bus from Marazion to meet us here before his choir practice.

Spingo Ales:
Ben Stout – 4.8%
Flora – 4.0%
Easter – 7.4%
Bragget 6.0%
Middle – ?%

Had dinner at Howard’s favourite fish n chips establishment Nettles and eating them on the run half cut from the swill session at The Blue Anchor, we set off with Dad as designated driver to a disused old church in the back blocks of Helston. Howard had forgotten his choir books back the Nettle’s and so I left a dozing Dad to retrieve them, foregoing some of the beautiful male choir voices. I returned to hear some beautiful songs. Just five or six of them. And the acoustics in this old church were exquisite. I requested they sing the Leviathan Song again and made a short film on my camera. I kept nudging dad in the plastic chair beside me to wake up. We drove home through the back lanes and approaching Howard’s place in the laneway, a badger crossed our path.

Boscastle, United Kingdom

A day of road tripping and coastal town popping. Coursed along the steep cliffs and headlands of Newquay and spied the wet-suit clad surfers awaiting the rolling swells and breaks. Couldn’t help thinking there was too much of Fawlty Towers of this place. At Padstow we had our first Cornish pastie and visited the Boots chemist that Dad worked in a few years back. The woman there finally recognised Dad and was quite taken aback that he was there in passing to say hello. Next stop was Port Isaac. A beautifully set fishing village and the filming location for Doc Martin. Lots of gratuitous use of this celluloid fame. Onward up the coast to Tinagel – the legendary location of King Arthur’s castle. Walked out to the ruins but didn’t pay the entry fee. Had lunch on the grass above the cliffs with a view across to the lauded castle ruins. Had an ale at a pub back up the top of the coastal pathway. Hard to find a place that didn’t have Arthur (of King Arthur) in its name. Final stop was Boscastle – the site of tremendous flash flood a few years ago. Again another sleepy village in a narrow valley between steep headlands. Headed back down the expressway down the middle of the Cornish land to meet Howard. He’d prepared the massive meat and gristle laden pasties and we headed onward to The Minack Theatre at Porthcurno. An awesome granite-hewn open-air amphitheatre, falling down the steep granite boulder cliffs. Whatever the play I imagined it would always be competing with the beauty of the sea and coastal scape beyond. We feasted on Betty Stoggs brews and the ginormous Cornish pasties. And as the play began and the air cooled more, we put on every piece of clothing we had and swaddled our legs in blankets. The play was The Tin Violin – both beautiful and farcical. The lead actress was vivacious and handsome.

Penzance, United Kingdom

Climbed up Trencrom Hill. St Michael’s Way courses the base of this hill. Bloody windy up top. A great view across to St Ives on the north coast. Lost my lens cap coming down. Returned at speed up the hill while Dad waited in the hire car. To my glee I found it on the way down again. Made a bee line later in Penzance for a lens cap strap. Visited some standing stones on the road between Penzance and Land’s End. Later that evening I ducked down to Marazion to see Howard and the Wesley Chapel Choir

Penzance, United Kingdom

Awoke at cousin Howard’s farm house An Gernwyk (the corner). Walked the fields, hedge rows and darkened forests. Saw a pheasant. And the ubiquitous slugs made mournful merriment in these verdant fields. The North Atlantic air wafted in from the bay of pirates just over hill and dale to the south. Visited the town and burial sites of my great great grandparents (Towednack Church Parish cemetery) and the birthplace of my great grandfather who immigrated to Australia in Nancledra. Had lunch just outside of Nancledra at the Engine Inn, Cripple’s Ease – once owned by my my great-grandfather Stephen Curnow in the mid-1800s. So many stories and yet a tiny sliver of land this Cornwall. Shopped at Morrison’s on the way home and cooked salmon for dinner with Howard and Dad.

London, United Kingdom

Breakfast with Dad and Mum at the London home of my old Guyana friends Macarena and Michael from Guyana days. Met their 18 month old son Marco. From there to Paddington station. Dad and I bid farewell to Mum. She looked at us as if to say ‘What will become of you two odd fellows?” I watched as Mum’s bobbing ‘rinsed’ hair disappeared into the crowd. I turned to Dad. Our sojourn to Kernow (Cornwall) commences.

Perth, Australia

Been working flat out in readiness for these two months on ‘adventure road’ (attributed to my Greenland friend Eva’s coined phrase, September 2010). Russian tuition has been great (alot of fun really) but I never studied enough much to the chagrin of Anna my teacher. I haven’t studied the Cornish map at all either. I expect Dad and I will work that out once we’re there.

Perth, Australia

It begins with a dream. And so it did. Reading Robert Bly’s “Iron John” I decided that a trip with just Dad was overdue. And once we’d decided upon Cornwall – back to the old country – it was only a moment before I began plotting my onward adventure. Russia had long been in my little black book. Early high school geography days gave me a fix on Lake Baikal, the biggest and deepest freshwater lake on the planet. And a romanticism lingered in me for long cross-continental rail journeys. And ’twas only another moment before I realised that Russian lessons would need to happen fast. This was happening all awhile I was searching for a house to buy. And buy I did. And fly I did just 6 weeks later.

[Early morning on the day of departure]
Just one hour’s sleep before taxi ride to Perth International. Since 1830 hours the previous day, a sequence of chaotic multi-tasking madness. All inevitably rushing to a desired singularity: two backpacks, one naked body in boots on a set of scales. Yes! I’m under the limit.

Perth, Australia

Bags
are nearly packed and I look forward to Cornwall (a journey with Dad),
Denmark (a reunion with Mum and her family) and then Russia!..via
Finland. All the way to Vladivostok and maybe to Kamchatka? I’ll be due
back in Perth 22 July 2012. Stay tuned.

Perth, Australia

Two more sleeps and packing still awaits. Still tweaking packing list and notes for Kath. And deciding if I should polish my Rossi’s. Oh dear. But I will depart. That I am sure of.