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Porthcurno, United Kingdom

Home of the first ever telegraph transmission and no mobile phone signal! Not that we’re worried. Mostly Dad and I are just happy that we made it through gale force winds nearly blowing us off the cliffs from Lands End to Porthcurno.

Sennen, United Kingdom

A big day: Pendeen-Seenen. 15 kms around many a cove and headland. Past Cape Kernow where we could see all way south to Lands End. Lots of old tin mine shafts. One 15 min rain scud. We were ready including plastic garbage bag for dad’s rapidly deteriorating backpack. But basically great weather. We both got sun burnt faces! Dad, with my super knee brace, continues powerfully. Tho we’re both weary today. And so we were greeted in Sennen, with its Brit beach holiday frenzy, by the Old Success Inn and its 4 star accoms. In fact we’re quite impressed with the very comfortable digs. Tomorrow forecast is big rain. Hope we can still do our last leg to Porthcurno!

Pendeen, United Kingdom

Wonderful weather yesterday. And great coast line views. Dad used my Alice Springs knee brace on his worrisome knee and was smiling all the way with plenty of breather stops up the cove gullies. But today is atrocious with horizontal rain. So we caught a lift to our next destination and await the weather by going underground an old Kernow tin mine (Geevor and Levant Tin Mines – part of the UN World Heritage ancient tin mining sites).

Kernow means Cornwall in the Cornish language. Dad and I found this Kernow ale at Pendeen between St Ives and Sennor on the northcoast of the the southwest tip of Cornwall. A nice drop, right in the heart of our grandfather’s tin mining county.

Kernow bys vyken (Cornwall forever!)

Zennor, United Kingdom

Wonderful coastal walking having the North Atlantic in our ears all day and the easterly wind in our backs. Grey seals sleeping mid waters and granite rocks suddenly providing a minefield to clamber through. In Zennor we upon’d ye old Tinner’s Arms and quenched our thirst immediately on a few pints. Jubilee bank holiday and it was very busy in this one horse stone-walled village. Suddenly we were told they’d shut the kitchen as they were running out of food with bookings still to come in later in the evening. With no other options and things looking a bit bleak on the food side I asked a fourth time and the manager overheard me and ordered his staff to slip us in. We got a packed lunch for the morning as well. Amply supped and quenched we picked up our weary bones and walked up the hill to look for the B&B. As we approached very loud drums rolled though the thick stone walled cottage. “Oh no what was this?!”, we thought. It stopped when we knocked on the door at the back and lo and behold it was Sue the owner who played the drums. A very cosy upstairs room with a lot of character. I got talking to Sue and her friend John who played guitar and soon I was invited to join them for a jam. A great night with new friends. And when I snuck into our room upstairs Dad woke and said he hadn’t heard a thing! Incredible as the sound must have penetrated through the ceiling from the room below!

St Ives, United Kingdom

Arrived safely at our first B&B in St Ives. Dad sleeping. We commence walking tomorrow. At a very slow pace it’s an estimated 5 hour hike along the cliffs to the one horse town of Zennor, past ancient tin mines and stone walled fields dating back to 500BC. A lovely room with a view and our private bathroom tonight. Sea gulls outside singing that quintessential English fishing village soundtrack of melancholy and every house in town with bunting to the max for the Jubilee celebrations. Kernow bys vyken!

Marazion, United Kingdom

A lazy day around St Hilary Churchtown. Waited for our walk’s logistical support man, Russ, to transfer us to St Ives. Overcast is forecast for the rest of the week. Some rain forecast on the last two days of our intended walk (Wednesday and Thursday). Called in and saw Howard’s sister in law just up the lane by St Hilary parish church.

Marazion, United Kingdom

Dad and I have been enjoying Kernow (Cornwall) and I’m learning a lot about my dad’s side of the family. Our host, distant cousin Howard Curnow (two of our distant ancestors c.1750, were brothers: Andrew (Howard’s line) and Stephen Curnow (our line)), is a gold mine (or should I say tin mine) of information about our complex family tree in a land where the name Curnow is common. Have learnt a little Kernwyk (the Cornish language) and we’ve enjoyed the micro-brewed local ales. And especially the Cornish hospitality, which comes alive when surrounded my wonderful singing voices in packed pubs (we’ve attended the Cornish men’s choir practices a few times as Howard is an avid singer). I found this sticker ‘Cornishmen do it dreckly’. I can remember my grandfather used to say ‘Dreckly’. “We’ll get onto that dreckly”, he used to say when I asked him for something or other. It comes from ‘directly’, and means in a moment, not now but soon. But I always equated it with ‘never’ when my grandfather used to say it (but I was an impatient little boy in those days!).

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.