Tuesday, August 08, 2006

And so to home

To cornwall - to Bodmin and then to Rock. It was only a week, but feels at least a month. I am refreshed and full of life. I keep expecting autumn weather...

Spent our time well - surfing, sailing in a Cornish Shrimper on the Camel Estuary, played two rounds of golf on the St Enodoc's Holywell Course and visited almost every beach and harbour from Boscastle right the way down to Penzance. Bedruthen Steps was a particular favourite of mine - a glorious walk along the cliff paths from a National Trust carpark followed by about 100 steps down a cliff side to reach a secluded beach with golden sand and beautiful rocks. Spent an afternoon reading, exploring and playing with only a few other people on the beach. Also to the Tate St Ives and to my favourite of places, the Barbara Hepworth Sculpture Garden. Spent a good long time looking, drawing and relecting.

The farm that we camped on was beautifully quiet and full of families. Also full of free-range animals including ducks, geese, hens and turkeys. These gaggles spent a good deal of time wondering around the camping field; on our last morning the collies from the farm appeared - the puppy practicing his herding skills with a flock of turkeys. He managed to get one stuck right up inside a hedge, much to the turkey's disgust. He wasn't that good with cars either given his attempts to herd our car.

Then to Rock, to stay with our friends B&L. His parents house, right on the middle of the St Enodoc's course. Meal for L's birthday at the St Enodoc's Hotel, cocktails (mine was a gorgeous raspberry bellini which I can still taste if I picture it) and then a night of playing 44 not out in the dark on the dunes. An evening only surpassed by the sheer size of the bonfire we had the next evening, around which we slept wrapped in blankets until 5am. As we walked home through the village as the fingers of the sun began to creep up over the horizon and the sky changed from deep blue to a paler shade, I was reminded how beautiful the early morning is - epecially on a walk home just before climbing in to an exceedingly comfortable bed. That hour just isn't quite the same when it is the beginning of the day...

And so to home. Back to our little flat in Primrose Hill, which isn't big or grand, beachside or full of beautiful Kurt Jackson prints, but it is ours, and coming home felt so very good.

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