And today we bid farewell to Cornwall. We got a fairly early start and headed up the A30 toward Bodmin Moor – it was time for the hiking boots to come back out. (Funny but the British don’t “hike”, they “walk”. ) We had identified a walk on the southern part of the moor that started in the town of Minions. 
Yes, that is the name of the town and has been for more than 400 years. Nevertheless, they have capitalized on the fame from the little yellow ones. We parked at a trail head for “the Hurlers” – a stone ring so named because legend had it that boys playing at hurling ( a game like field hockey) on a Sunday were punished by being turned to stone. We had purchased a guidebook with a “map” of a walk in it but decided to scrap that and just do what we do best – wander. Across the moor, past large cattle, horses, and sheep (and around the droppings of large cattle, horses and sheep.) Our goal: a big hunk of rocks (tor) at the edge of a quarry.
The Cheesewring is a rock formation at the top of Stowe’s Hill. It was a fabulous scramble up the front of a large hill to get to the rock
formation and the views across the moor were breathtaking. We clambered down the rocks and headed into town to the Cheesewring pub – the highest pub in Cornwall, BTW – for a lovely pub lunch and a wander through the village before hitting the road again.
We were bound for Torquay – or rather a village just north of it and our route took us through Plymouth. Being from Massachusetts and having learned all about Plymouth Rock, I was curious to see why people had fled from here. Granted, it was unlikely that I would discover that particular item in the hour we spent walking around but I could see why others might want to flee: it’s a particularly ugly town. To be fair, it’s not Plymouth’s fault as the city was pretty much devast
ated during the Blitz. Unfortunately, the large concrete blocks that were put up in the downtown to replace whatever was there are pretty horrendous. One item did stand out though: St. Andrew’s church, now a minster, looked very much like an ancient cathedral. We wandered through the building and learned that it too had been devastated in the war. The building
was bombed so that all that was left was the outside walls. Yet the rubble got cleared and the congregation met for several years in “the garden church” where greenery was placed inside the roofless shell and worship continued nonetheless. It took more than a decade to replace the roof and get the building back in order but what a magnificent job they have done.
Having gotten my stained glass fix for the day, we wandered to the Hoe – a green space on the edge of the harbor – and along the waterfront itself. It had turned into another lovely day: high 60’s, sunny and breezy (as opposed to
blustery). But we needed to find our new home so we were off to Maidencomb. We sped along some fairly decent A roads until we needed to turn off and face another set of frighteningly narrow and twisty lanes. We eventually found the flat up an unmarked road which looked like an opening in a hedge but once we got to the house at the top of the lane, we were rewarded with very friendly “landlords”, an adorable house dog, and a view that is nothing short of spectacular.
Another hour or so spent finding our way around the coast and stopping at the shop for supplies and we were ready to have another gourmet (read: heated up ready meals with some fresh veg) meal with a bottle of beaujolais overlooking the spectacular view.
Today’s numbers:
- Miles covered: ~175 miles
- MPG: 48 – best so far
- Beach towns cruised through: 7
- Steps: 14, 370 (6.7 miles)
The Cannon Family's travel blog 