Sometimes I fret over my lack of situational awareness. I feel that if I somehow paid more attention, I would have realized when I booked this leg of the trip back in March that I was planning to spend the last bank holiday weekend of the summer at the seaside. The American equivalent is unknowingly booking a trip to the Jersey Shore or the Delmarva peninsula on Labor Day weekend. It’s not necessarily a bad thing but it is definitely a crowded thing.
So we got a somewhat later start than we had planned but that didn’t seem to matter because when we awoke, it was raining. And it kept raining. So no early morning run through the Cornish countryside for me. And no day at the beach either. Oh well – that wasn’t plan A anyway. We had a lovely cooked breakfast (BACON ROLLS with GF rolls that were actually good!) and then climbed in the car to find a coffee shop because we forgot to buy real coffee and we are too snobby to drink the instant in the flat. We headed east to start our north coast tour at Tintagel Castle – an ancient stronghold where a castle was built by Richard, the Earl of Cornwall, the brother of Henry III over layers of other buildings and ruins dating back to the dark ages. It was supposedly the place where Uther Pendragon and Igraine conceived King Arthur. Needless to say, there were Merlin, Arthur and Excalibur keich (or tchotchkes or crap) everywhere. But that didn’t matter because the scenery was amazing.
It stopped raining long enough for us to clamber all over the site of the ruins. We climbed more stairs visiting this si
te than getting in and out of our flat in London. The views of the sea are breathtaking – even in cloudy weather, the ruins are amazing, and there is a waterfall that runs down the rocks to the beach that is beautiful. 
Now down would be the operative word. The cliffs of Cornwall are legendary and somewhat annoying. Everything that is helpful (roads, shops, houses) are on very high ground and the beach is below. Always. We climbed lots of steps to get to the top of the mound where the castle used to be and then had to climb down and down more to get to the beach. That would be the theme for the rest of the day. Even after two hours of clambering up and down at the castle site, there was still a loooong hike back up the road to where the town center was. (We could have ridden in the castle Land Rover for £2 each but seemed like cheating.) There was an ice cream stand partway up the walk so we each got real Cornish dairy ice cream (apparently an important descriptor because it was heavily advertised everywhere!) Mine was butterscotch in a cup, Frank’s blackcurrant in a cone (his was much better than mine). This would have to do to tide us over until lunch.
Lunch was to be something special albeit not actually near lunchtime. We headed back south down the coast (along terrifyingly narrow B roads. I’ll share the videos sometime. Now I know why there is zero tolerance for drinking and driving here.) to Padstow. It wouldn’t normally be on our radar as it is really just another adorable seaside town but for one thing: gluten free fish and chips. And not just any fish and chips – but Rick Stein (apparently a celebrity chef here) has a chip shop that does dedicated GF fish – you pick which fish too! – in a separate frier and 
everything. I got cod and chips and was beside myself. Even though we didn’t get lunch until 3pm and we had to do take away and sit at the edge of a construction site on the harbor but that didn’t matter – it was the most fabulous fish supper I have ever had and I might actually include all the ones I had before I was diagnosed. I enjoyed every salty, greasy mouthful and then needed to walk a bit to get it all to settle.
But walking was not a problem because like everywhere else in Cornwall, we needed to get from the car park to the harbor which meant parking up high and walking down. Padstow is apparently quite the seaside attraction because this was the first place we really found all the bank holiday crowds – even though it had begun to rain again. People wandered all over the harbor area and even sat outside the pubs in “beer gardens” with umbrellas up over their drinks at the picnic tables. Apparently, nothing will ruin the last weekend at the seaside for the English. I hav
e never seen so many people in jumpers (read: sweaters) and rain jackets with shorts and sandals! I was cold just looking at some of them. We did have a lovely time popping into various shops selling many of the same beach themed items you would find in Virginia Beach or the Outer Banks. But you don’t have quite the same atmosphere: town bands playing by the harbor and old school pubs with their Sunday roasts and walls of flowers.
Continuing down the coast we wandered through Watergate Bay to Newquay, the self-proclaimed surfing capital of Britain. Don’t laugh – people here take it very seriously! Every town has a surf shop complete with wet suit rentals and we have passed more Volkswagen buses here than I could possibly count – nearly all with surfboards strapped to the roof. You see them all parked along the side of the road and then their owners walk down to the beach – always down! – and surf. The seaside hotels have wet suits hanging out of windows the way beach towels hang off of balconies in Ocean City hotels. It is really amazing!
But all the steering wheel gripping driving had gotten to Frank so it was time to head back. All we needed to do was stop at the grocery store for a few supplies, like coffee and some fixings for dinner. Except that it’s Sunday. At 6pm. And everything is closed. So we found the Tesco Express on the high street in Penzance and grabbed some salad fixings and wine (of course!) and headed back to the flat, glad that we could have something for tea when we eventually got hungry. So we opened the wine and prepared for tomorrow’s adventure on the south coast.
Today’s numbers:
- 12,815 steps which Fitbit thinks of as footfalls but today translated to stair climbing.
- VW campers: nearly as many as the steps. 🙂
- People on surfboards in the ocean in the rain: dozens
- People in wetsuits in towns where there is surfing: dozens. (Maybe there is a fashion trend of which I am unaware.)
- People who wish they had wellies today: at least one – me – as my jeans are now covered in mud.
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