Of sea kings and sea lions - Chronicles of a Cornwall Holiday - Day 6

Okay, that might have been a bad idea, I thought as the alarm clock woke me. Drinking so much the night before was probably not the best idea knowing what time we had to leave the hotel. Slowly, I began to assess the situation, checking off those parts of me that were protesting, and those parts of me that hadn't quite drummed up the energy to do so. At this point, I realised that maybe the hangover wasn't as bad as I had initially thought. My head was a little swimmy, but not throbbing by any means. My stomach felt a little off, but again, it seemed to be more to do with hunger than the after effect of the white wine/lager combo.

I stumbled out of the bed and went to the bathroom to empty my bladder, which seemed to be about the size of a football. I then stumbled back into bed and proceeded to argue with the snooze button for the next half an hour. After a while, I accepted that I was going to lose the battle, so got out of bed again and headed for the shower. With the hot, steaming water pulling me back from the depths of sleepiness, I did something that up to a few minutes previously had seemed almost impossible. For the first time that day, I opened my eyes!

After nearly drowning myself for quite some time, it was time to get ready to check out. Hastily, we packed our bags before heading down to reception to hand back the keys. With that done, we decided that breakfast was definitely in order, and only one place could possibly give us what we needed. Back to Wetherspoons!

Fed, watered, and with the hangover suppressed, we went back to the car and headed out of Penzance. Our destination for the morning was the National Seal Sanctuary just outside of Gweek. As we were heading there, I heard a loud rumble emanating from the sky. For a few moments, I thought it was thunder, as unlikely as it seemed considering the blue skies that had graced us with their presence. I looked toward the sky for confirmation, and saw where the noise was coming from. Two fighter jets were passing low overhead in search of the airfield at Gweek. As we were heading in the same direction, we decided to take a short detour to the airfield to see if we could find somewhere to watch what was going on.

We found the perfect spot. To the south side of the airfield there is a viewing area allowing for passing traffic to stop and view the vehicles using the airfield. The airfield itself is used both for military purposes and for the local air-sea rescue, whose helicopters save the lives of so many around this part of the coast. There's something about high powered flying machines that has always fascinated me. There's just something so elegant about them that I could quite literally sit for hours watching them fly overhead, which is what we actually did!

After a relaxing hour or so watching the planes and helicopters come and go, and somewhat aware of the time, we left the airfield and headed for the seal sanctuary just a few minutes down the road.

It had turned into an extremely nice day as we left the car once more to head into the seal sanctuary. Started in 1958, the National Seal Sanctuary was opened to aid injured and sick seals found around the Cornwall coastline. By 1975, the sanctuary had outgrown its single pool at St. Austell and was moved to its current location at Gweek. Since then, the sanctuary has grown to five pools, a hospital and several enclosures for other animals such as Otters and Sea Lions.

Unperturbed by the surprisingly expensive entry fee into the complex, we entered the sanctuary and began to walk the length of the park, taking in a welcome stroll and the glorious sunshine overhead. Having bypassed the main pools, we ended our walk at the otter enclosure which is in a beautiful, forested part of the park. I had never realised before how beautiful an animal the otter is. I found myself mesmerised watching the otter lying on its back "juggling" a stone between its paws. I could have watched them for hours, and in fact, I probably did!

After some time watching the otters, we headed back up the park to see the other animals. As we approached the first of the pools, we heard an announcement that it would shortly be feeding time at the pool at the top of the park, so we once again passed straight by the pools. I hoped that we hadn't caused any offence or ill-feeling to the seals by walking straight past them twice without so much as a wink!

The feeding started with the sea lions which were brilliantly trained. It was explained that the sea lions needed to be trained so as not to be too unruly when it comes to veterinary treatment. It was somewhat amazing to see the placidness of such a large animal when the trainers held their hands flat to them and they appeared to lightly kiss the hand.

Having watched the seals and the sea-lions feed, we moved on to the penguins. For a very long time, I have had something of a love of penguins. Personally, I think they are one of the most beautiful creatures to habit our planet. I find them somewhat humorous with their waddle walk, and their "always dressed for dinner" colour. From the grace of the Emperor to the cuteness of the little blue, I love watching them and was rather pleased to find them in the seal sanctuary.

If you are ever in the area, I would urge you, dear reader, to visit the seal sanctuary. It's a great visit, and there is something of a satisfaction knowing that the entry fee goes only to help the animals.

After a good few hours at the seal sanctuary, we got back in the car and manoeuvred out of the very steep car park and headed on our way to our resting destination, Falmouth. Only a short drive, the car deposited us to the outskirts of Falmouth in what seemed like no time at all, and we managed to find a bed and breakfast with relative ease. Having checked in, we left once more, this time on foot into the town centre in search of sustenance.

How could I describe Falmouth town centre in mid-September. Nothing short of dead comes to mind. There seemed to be nobody in the town centre at all, save a few restaurateurs and shop-keepers. We were, at least, able to get some food, after which we went down to the bay where we sat, and talked, and watched the evening slowly drift away!

Of end of lands and lizards - Chronicles of a Cornwall Holiday - Day 5

Overnight, the rain of the previous day had completely disappeared leaving us with the best day so far, weather wise. A few wispy white clouds decorated the rich blue in the skies above us, and the suns rays were kept in check by a light breeze coming straight off the glistening ocean over the quiet promenade. This was Penzance at its finest.

After a short wander along the promenade, we headed back to the car. On the agenda today were two of the most scenic areas of this part of the world, the first of which was Lands End. To get to Lands End from Penzance is remarkably easy when you are heading straight there. A short 9 mile jaunt along the A30 will take you straight there in about 15 minutes, or so. But this is Cornwall, and on a beautiful day there's nothing I like more than to take a long and leisurely drive along the scenic route. I managed to turn the 9 mile drive into more than 30 miles. We first headed towards St. Ives, and then headed to Lands End via one of the most scenic roads in Britain, the road between St. Ives and St. Just. With green fields and hills in one direction, and the land plunging into the sea in the other direction, I was finding it difficult to resits the urge to stop the car every few minutes to take more photos.

After a little over an hour, we arrived at Lands End. Having been here many times before, I was more than familiar with the location, but places like this never get boring. However, to my recollection, this is the first time I have been to Lands End in a car, and I had forgotten the extortionate amount the authorities charge for parking a car in what is essentially a field.

Unperturbed, we parked the car and set foot into the sunshine. It seems that every time I go to Lands End, I forget that there is more than just scenery there. The tourist trade around the area is buzzing in the small shopping area where they are truly capitalising on the location with shop names such as "The first and last post office in Britain", "The first and last pub in Britain", "The first and last restaurant in Britain" etc. I think it would be brilliant if they burnt the rule book and added a few extra bits. I almost felt compelled to don my hoody and stand in the shadows with a sign around my neck saying "The first and last gigolo in Britain". So many possibilities!

We headed swiftly through the shopping area, and headed towards the cliff. Lands end itself is inaccessible being too far down the cliff to be considered safe, so we took a seat overlooking the waves crashing violently against the rocks that had decided to detach themselves from the mainland, presumably heading for mainland Europe in a needlessly unpatriotic display of defection.

After a little while watching the water, we were blessed with the presence of a single brown rabbit. Basking in the sunshine, the rabbit which I had assumed to be wild, seemed to be completely fine with so many tourists around, and despite not allowing people to touch it, did have something of a flair for the camera, sitting perfectly still as I, and several others took some remarkably close-up pictures of it.

With the rabbit having left us to seek other opportunities to be pap'd, we left our seats and headed back towards the shopping area with the intention of finding something to eat. Unfortunately, both luck and the volume of tourists were against us. There was not a bite left to eat in the area. A picnic lunch at Lands End postponed, we decided to head back towards Penzance. Having spent a day or two there previously, I knew that there was a Wetherspoons in the town centre, and I really fancied a veggie burger! Quite hungry by this point and not wanting to get stuck in another cow jam, I opted for the short route back, and it was only a short while later that we were tucking into our lunch.

Stomachs full, we headed back out of the town, and headed towards Lizard Point. I'm still not quite sure what the area has to do with Lizards, if anything at all, but Lizard Point is the most southerly point of mainland Great Britain, further south even than Lands End. In comparison to Lands End, the area is much less catered for the tourist. There is a lighthouse and a youth hostel, but that really is pretty much it. For the time of day that we went there, we found the car park pleasantly empty, and somewhat surprisingly, free.

We left the car, and headed down towards the cliff edge. At Lizard Point, the eager sightseer can head all the way down the road to sea level, which is where we found ourselves a few moments later after the short walk from the car. It was full tide by the time we got there and this added so much atmosphere to the area. We sat at the end of the road where, at low tide, the road meets the beach. At high tide, the beach is submersed under about four feet of water, allowing the waves to crash heartily against the cliffs. There is something about the sound of waves crashing against cliffs that I find simply mesmerising. We sat down and watched and listened to the waves for what could have been hours. I honestly have no idea how much time we actually spend there, only that I enjoyed every single moment of it.



It became apparent as we headed back up the road that time had slipped silently past us. We found ourselves with the choice of heading back to the hotel for food and an evening of postcard writing, or waiting for a little while to catch a good sunset. We opted for the latter, and it wasn't long before the sun was dipping away behind us, giving us an ever-changing view of the cliffs silhouetted against the backdrop.

Thoroughly relaxed, and somewhat in awe of how beautiful the world can be, we headed back to the car before dark, and then headed back to Penzance once more. In the evening, we decided to while away the hours by heading out to the pub next to the hotel for the inevitable postcard catchup. For me, this was the first set of postcards that I had written since arriving in Cornwall (Louise had written and sent postcards for every day of the journey so far!), and I found myself increasingly frustrated at the size of the writing area of the postcard in comparison to the size of my handwriting. For any of those who I sent postcards to who are reading this, I apologise for the completely illegible squiggles!

By the time the postcards were finished, the beer garden was almost completely pitch black, I was probably half-cut, and the postcards themselves had begun to bend from the dew! We had been in the pub for several hours and I was freezing, especially my writing hand. Clearly the beer jacket didn't yet have enough layers, so we stayed for a couple more. when last orders were announced, we didn't feel like heading straight back to the hotel, so instead we found ourselves a bottle of wine and headed to the promenade, where we sat in a wind-shelter overlooking the calm waters of Penzance bay. Hours drifted by as we chatted and drank and shivered together. Eventually, at nearly 3am, we stumbled back to the hotel thoroughly happy, relaxed and looking forward to the day ahead.

If only the day hadn't turned up so early.....!

Writing postcards in the pub

Of torrential rain and midnight drives - Chronicles of a Cornwall Holiday - Day 4

On the morning of our fourth day in cornwall, we once again woke up to the sound of rain hitting the concrete outside our room. This was never in the plan! Unperturbed, we left in search of the glorious sunshine of southern Cornwall. Driving through the mist, it wasn't long before we realised that the glorious sunshine wasn't going to come.

And then the rain started, I mean REALLY started. The rain was coming straight down, and from in front of us, and behind, and from each side. Inside my little Citroen Saxo it sounded like the four horsemen of the apocalypse were playing polo on the roof. We persevered, the car aqua-planing and swerving along the roads. Now, I know I have said that driving on the roads in Cornwall is fun, but when the car has a mind of it's own and the mist is so thick that I can't see more than three feet past the bonnet, even I will admit to being a little non-plussed! Still, we carried on along the coastal roads, not that it really made much of a difference, honestly, we could have been pretty much anywhere!

Eventually, the rain ceased, and we were able to see, for the first time that day, the coastline, and the Atlantic in the distance. The saturated beaches were almost empty, except for a few poor canoeists who had either been caught up in the mist and taken a wrong turn, or didn't really get the point of canoeing!

It seemed to be a day for strange sightings. We stopped at a small car-park on the edge of the water for a quick pee stop, and I was somewhat surprised by a sign I read. I wish I had taken a photo of it as proof, but I had other matters in hand (so to speak!). As I was washing my hands, I caught sight of the condom machine. I find washing my hands a deplorably boring task, so my eyes drifted, and I found myself reading the front of the machine. On the bottom, where it dispenses its product, I saw the classic line "This machine will not dispense when empty". No sh*t Sherlock! Seriously!?!? I have decided that when I come to power (mwahahaha!!) I will give free condoms to absolutely anybody who can't work this out for themselves. I'm serious, can you imagine what will happen if these people breed?!

The day being what it was, we decided to head straight for Penzance, which was to be our home for the next two days. We rolled into Penzance, and found our hotel. Instantly, we had flashes of the Lusty Glaze lodge again. Admittedly, it didn't look quite so bad from the outside as Lusty Glaze, but it wasn't exactly the Marriot! Regardless, we checked in, and to our horror, the room we were given was a mess. Empty bottles, hairs in the bed, towels on the floor. My heart sank, this wasn't what I wanted after a day driving through the rain. We immediately went to reception to put in only our second complaint of the holiday. We were asked if we would go back to the room, and somebody would be up very shortly to check things over. One of the managers followed us to the room, and on seeing the state of the room became somewhat sheepish, and extremely apologetic. "I'm so sorry, the room does not look to have been cleaned at all. I'm sorry. I apologise, I will sort it out immediately". We could still hear him apologising as he headed down the hall, bless him. A few minutes later, he came back with a fresh set of keys, and we were moved to a room opposite the hall, after he had checked out the room to make sure this one had been cleaned. More than happy with the move, we settled in.

Later that evening, after a little afternoon nap, we headed out of the hotel and back into the car. After finding some food, we decided that we would finish the day off with a night-drive to see how different the area looked without the natural light. After the days driving through the rain, I was a little pensive about it at first, but after a while, I started to settle into it. I have already mentioned how much I love driving in Cornwall, but at night it is even better, partly because all the cows were asleep in their fields, partly because I could see the headlights of cars coming towards me, but mostly because of the added driving experience. After a few hours of driving, in which we had gone from coast to coast and back again, we headed back to the hotel, hoping for better weather the next day.

Of waterfalls and nightmare hotels - Chronicles of a Cornwall holiday - Day 3

We stirred early the next morning to the sound of a light rain against the french doors of our hotel room. Sound can be somewhat deceptive though, as we found out when we opened the curtains. The sky was black in places, grey in others, and the rain was pouring down on the patio outside the room. In other times this may have put a bit of a downer on the day, but not today. Not now. We are on holiday, and we are going to enjoy it, no matter how much the gods conspire against us. To quote Billy Connolly, "there's no such thing as bad weather, only the wrong clothes!"

After a good breakfast at the hotel, we checked out and headed off in search of St. Nectarns Glen waterfall which we had passed on the way into Tintagel the evening before. We knew the car park for the waterfall was no more than 5 minutes up the road, but were unsure of where the waterfall was from there. We arrived at the car park just a few minutes later, and put on as many clothes as the temperature would allow to keep out the rain. We then headed off in the direction that the signs told us.

The rain didn't hold off for long, but it wasn't long before we were under a canvas of trees, walking though a woodland and following a beautiful little stream. With the rain hitting the leaves overhead, the gentle trickle of the stream, the smell of the forest in my nose, and the fresh air in my lungs, I felt a beautiful calm wash over me. I was thoroughly enjoying the walk, despite how wet I was getting.

After a while, we started rising away from the stream and into the upper forest. We arrived at a small house who's garden was packed with garden chairs. This is the house who's occupants own the land on which the waterfall resides. They have also opened their garden as a coffee shop and postcard retailer. There was nobody around, and the gate down to the waterfall was locked, so we had no choice but to wait for somebody to turn up. We sat down on the only dry table we could find and waited. And waited. and when we were bored of waiting, we couldn't decide what to do, so we waited some more. Eventually the owners turned up, and opened the gate for us.

Now, I know we live in a world where people will always try and make a profit from anything, but I do have something of a problem with asking people to pay money to see something that is natural. Waterfalls are carved out of rock over the course of thousands, if not millions of years. I don't believe you can put a price on that, and people should not have to pay to see the natural beauty of the world. By all means set up a coffee shop, a pub, whatever next to it and let people choose to go into them, but forcing somebody to pay for something for which you can take absolutely no credit and could never really "own" should not be allowed.

Nevertheless, we paid our money and headed down the steep steps to the waterfall. And my, what a waterfall it is. The water cascades beautifully down the hillside, and then through an archway before falling to Earth. So beautiful, and somehow so delicate that I simply can't put it into words.

After about half an hour, we left the waterfall and began the long walk back to the car. Although still quite dark, the rain had started to ease a little, and temperature had improved. On the way back to the car as we were crossing the road, I heard a small scream behind me. I turned to see what was going on, and couldn't see anything the matter at first. Louise explained to me that as she crossed the road, she was about to put her foot on a leaf when the leaf, taking the form of a small frog, started jumping away from her towards the kerb. I walked back a few paces, and found the frog resting in the grass on the roadside probably analysing the details of it's whole life that had just flashed before it's eyes!

Feeling the first bite of lunchtime hunger, we got into the car and pointed the front wheels in the direction of Tintagel

We carried on heading south-west along the coastal roads, heading towards Port Isaac. Port Isaac is a tiny little village on the coast and is most famous for being the village in which the TV Doc. Martin is set. Personally, I have never watched Doc. Martin. As much as I like Martin Clunes, it is not a programme that I have ever made a point of watching, and being on at a time when I am usually on the way back from work, I have always missed it. Still, it was as good a destination as any, so a little while later we rolled into the village. And straight back out again. The village really is that small! Unperturbed, we headed back up the road to find a car park, and then took a walk down the hill towards the port and the actual village. When I say hill, I mean mountain! Well, not quite mountain, but very steep and long hill anyway! You have to worry when you see a car parked on the hill with small boulders being used as chocks to keep the car in place!

Despite being a tiny, and very hilly village, Port Isaac is a beautiful place to go, and I would like to go back there. The village is set back from the surrounding cliffs where the sea comes much further inland creating what must have been an ideal location for the pirates and smugglers of old.

After only a short while in Port Isaac, most of which was spent watching a man playing with his two dogs on the beach, we headed back up the road to the car. Our next stop was to be Newquay where we would be staying the night. Back on the road in the afternoon traffic, it wasn't long before we were in Newquay and looking for the place that we had booked to stay the night. When booking it, I was a little hesitant as the name "Lusty Glaze lodge" conjured up all sorts of images of drunken ramblings, but upon checking the map, I discovered that Lusty Glaze was actually a real place name, and not the embodiment of a certain emotion! We drove all the way through Newquay looking for the hotel, but couldn't see it. It was only after we turned round that we saw it from the other direction.

Have you ever seen the episode of Scrubs where every time JD does something wrong, an opera singer comes up behind him and sings in a powerful soprano voice "Mistaaaaaaaaaaaaake!"? Well, that's kinda how I felt driving into the grounds of the Lusty Glaze lodge! From a distance, it looked OK. Just a standard hotel. But as we got closer, the cracks started appearing, and by the time we got into the car park (which looked like an abandoned building site) we were really starting to worry. Potholes in the car park, empty beer bottles lying on the grass by the entrance, tables piled with dirty stuff in the lobby, they really did have everything. We checked in and went up to the room which was filthy. We would have had a lovely view of Lusty Glaze beach and the sea beyond had it not been for the dirt on the window.

After what seemed like an age sitting in the room and wondering what to do, we needed to get out. We went downstairs, and after a short discussion decided that we were going to check out. I think it is a testament to the quality of the hotel that the reception staff didn't seem at all surprised that we were wanting to check out, and were more than happy to give us a full refund.

We jumped back in the car, and started searching around for a bed and breakfast. One of the great things about this part of Cornwall at this time of year is that there is more than enough accommodation going round for everyone. It wasn't long before we found a very good looking B&B that had a vacancies sign in the window. We pulled into the car park (admiring the lack of potholes!) and went up to the door. There was a sign giving the phone number of the owner and telling the potential customer to call. I called, and was told that the ladies husband would be there in just a few minutes with the keys. After waiting, we checked in, instantly falling in love with the place. Everything was clean, the room was comfortable, the staff were really kind. It was everything we wanted.

We left the room and headed out on the short walk into the town centre. For the first time so far on the holiday, we were actually in an area that could be classified as a town. We headed through the town and down towards the beach on the other side. The tide was out, and although we didn't go down onto the beach, we whiled away the time watching a few dogs play on the sand. Beside us was a nice house situated on a high rock at the side of the beach, only accessible by a rope bridge to the mainland. I can't remember how much for, but I am told the place is for sale. Still waiting for the lottery win, though!!

Later, we headed away from the beach, and back into town for some food. After a recommendation from the owners of the B&B, we had settled on a very nice Indian restaurant overlooking the beach. An outstanding feature of the restaurant was that every single table had a sea view. This wasn't achieved by a clever laying out of the tables, or by having every seat next to a window. Instead, in a blinding moment of genius, the management had erected beach-facing cameras on the outside of the building, and displayed the video feed on TV screens carefully situated throughout the restaurant. If that doesn't deserve an award, I don't know what does!

Fed and watered, we took a long evening stroll back to the B&B for a well earned sleep.

Of awesome drives and runaway cows - Chronicles of a Cornwall Holiday - Day 2

After an astounding night's sleep, we awoke early with the smell of toast in the air. It's funny how toast can make you feel instantly hungry. I am very happy to say that it wasn't just the smell of the breakfast that was fantastic. Food, glorious food! A full English of the vegetarian variety, toast, coffee, fruit juices, fresh fruit and cereals were amongst the choices on offer. Food of such good quality and service with a smile and a chat from our hosts is what makes bed and breakfast so much better than the equivalent hotels!

We left the bed and breakfast, and started heading north. It hadn't really been our intention to head north, but after taking a quick look at the map, I couldn't help myself. I was instantly consumed with excitement when I saw the name "Westward Ho!" shining like a beacon from the page. It is my opinion that anywhere in the world that has an exclamation mark in the name must be truly awesome. I've not seen a place name with an exclamation mark in it before, which I have begun to feel is a bit of a shame! I would love to see more punctuation in place names. As some of you will know, I am very fond of exclamation marks wherever they are used. I think somebody should take the initiative and put more punctuation in place names. Maybe the odd question mark wouldn't go amiss. Picture the situation. Some bright-eyed soul adds a question mark to London, and all of a sudden, nobody seems to know where it is, and when people say they are going there, they would always sound like they can't quite believe it (I'm going to London?). The world would be so much a better place.

We started heading along the main A road and after a few minutes we hit traffic. Ever the optimist, I was once again not expecting to hit traffic, especially this far into Cornwall. As it turned out, one of the roads had been closed due to an overturned caravan. A quick check of the map, and our route had been replanned, taking us inland a little, going horizontal and vertical, rather than the expected diagonal route. The road this way was much clearer, and I have to say that I was thoroughly enjoying it. I have enjoyed driving ever since I started taking lessons oh so many years ago, but there is something about driving in Cornwall which makes it all the better, not only because it was a holiday drive, but the roads are exceptional. The road we were travelling on was twisting and turning through the countryside, a long left hander immediately followed by a hard right, and steep hill and then a drop that brings you back only about ten feet away from where you started, as the crow flies. This is what driving was invented for! In my head, I was a rally driver! In my head, there was nobody else on the roads, and although I was driving safely, I was driving to the best of my ability and absolutely loving every second of it. To all of you, I beg you, if you ever get the chance to drive in Cornwall, take it. Spread your wings and fly through the Cornish countryside in the best way your car lets you. To those of you that do not have a driving license, I implore you to pass your test as soon as possible, get a few years driving experience behind you, and then head to Cornwall. Don't ask. Don't procrastinate. Do!!

We arrived at Westward Ho! (<< still makes me giggle!) and were greeted by an exceptional surfers beach, people enjoying the sport amongst the waves a little offshore. Westward Ho! is not a particularly big place, but to be honest, I think it would be spoilt if it was. The beach seemed to stretch on for miles, bordered by cliffs and breakwater's either side. The tide was a fair way out at the time, which meant that it was a fair walk to the waters edge, but that only meant that there was more room to play for those who'd taken their dogs onto the beach. Incidentally, there is a practice here in the UK that I have to admit that I am not overly fond of, that being the restriction of dogs on beaches during the summer months. Having once owned a Collie, I know how fond dogs can be of running freely in the sand, just as we all were as children. I understand that because a few messy people let their dogs poop freely on the beaches and don't clear up after them, and some people are scared of dogs, that some considerations must be made, but it seems these days that dogs aren't allowed anywhere unless they are on the lead and muzzled. It just seems a little unfair to me!

After a brief walk along the beach, we headed back onto the road, and heading south to Bude and beyond. By now, the road I had intended on taking that morning had been cleared of the caravan and reopened. And what a road it is! I know, I have already mentioned how good driving in Cornwall is, but it is made even more spectacular when the view encompasses great hills on one side, and cliffs and ocean views on the other. Because of a lot of the corners, it was impossible to do more than forty on the sixty mile an hour road, but it wasn't about the speed. But something a little strange happened along the way. We were going through the winding cliff roads, left, right, up down, round again and then...

Traffic. AGAIN! What is going on. What could possibly be causing us to slow down this time? I looked ahead of me. This traffic jam was a little odd, as it seemed to consist of just three cars, and a man in the middle of the road shouting. Then I realised what was behind him. About fifty cows had joined their owner in an afternoon stroll along the main road, taking in the sights of Northern Cornwall. Is this normal? Is this supposed to happen on a Saturday afternoon in these parts? Is the farmer that conscientious of the welfare of his cows that he gives them a run-out at the weekends. No wonder Cornish clotted cream is said to be the best in the world if this is the environment the cows are living in! Had the cows been stampeding, or even running, I might have thought that this was a case of a broken fence and a few cows getting loose, but they seemed to be perfectly happily moving in their mass down the road, past the cars and towards whatever their destination was. And what seemed even more odd was that the rest of the traffic didn't seem to even notice. Just sit and wait, no horns, no angry shouts, no words with the farmer. Nothing. As if everything was perfectly normal.

Having got past the cows, we persevered and carried on towards Tintagel, stopping at Widemouth Bay for some lunch and some surfer spotting along the way. Eventually we hit Tintagel, a lovely little town who's claim to fame is that King Arthur once held court there. Well, that is as the story goes, anyway. There is a lot of proof to the contrary, but that will never stop the tourist machine. The result is that absolutely every shop, pub and road sign bares the name of King Arthur and many of them complete the picture with a suit of armour guarding its entrance.

We found our hotel and checked in. I have to admit that I was exhausted by this time. The long drives over the past 48 hours had really begun to take their toll on me, and although it was only late afternoon, a short lie down on the very comfortable bed turned disastrous as sleep overcame me. There's something about sleeping in the afternoon that I have always been a fan of, no matter where I am, and it did me the world of good.

After my few hours sleep, we left the hotel in search of a few lazy pints at one of the local pubs. I can't remember the exact name of said public house, but given where we were, I am sure it must have been something along the lines of King Arthurs Arms, or something equally Arthurian. A very relaxing evening was to be had in the company of locals and tourists alike, but it wasn't long before the affects of my afternoon sleep had worn off, and I felt the bed calling once more.

Of traffic jams and Stephen King novels - Chronicles of a Cornwall holiday - Day 1

After quite literally moments of planning, my girlfriend and I took to the road on the 3rd September and headed for Cornwall. Actually, that makes it sound a lot easier than it was. The truth is that we had planned to leave at around 10am, but actually ended up leaving at around 12:30. Funny how much more relaxed you feel about it when you are driving!

With the route planned, we hit the road in glorious sunshine, an eclectic mix of music thumping from the stereo, and that little bit of excitement that is only felt when you are going on holiday (as opposed to having arrived!). We got onto the M3 and everything was looking absolutely great, the car was going fine, and the other drivers were behaving themselves and sticking to their respective lanes.

We had been going for about an hour and a half when the traffic started to slow down around us. My car only being a Citroen, and not the superhero style car that I had asked Santa for at Christmas, I was forced to give in to peer pressure and slow down as well. Being foolishly optimistic, I hadn't been expecting to hit traffic on the way down, but lo and behold, the driving public of southern England had other ideas.

After nearly two hours, we finally hit the end of the traffic. And what had caused it, you ask? Stone Henge. That's it, that's all it was. The rubber-necker brigade appeared to be out in force. Scientists have been struggling for years to explain what the reasons for Stone Henge being built were. Is there a religious significance, and was it a place of worship? Or was it some form of time keeping device? On the evidence I have seen, I feel the answer seems to have been staring them in the face. I think it is simply an ancient, if slightly elaborate pacifier. People come from all over to look at it, and can never seem to pass it by at more than five miles an hour!

All in all, it took us the best part of six and a half hours to complete the journey. It should (if Google's directions are correct!) have taken us about four hours. This wasn't only due to the traffic. Those of you that know me could probably testify to the fact that when it comes to directions my ability is only slightly above that of a drunk puppy! Eventually we found the road on which the bed and breakfast we were staying was situated. We turned into the driveway and our hearts sank. The road was dark, overgrown with trees and the road itself had potholes the size of coffins. My mind raced to Stephen King novels. I was expecting to hear cackles coming from the surrounding woodland, a serial killer or two hiding behind the trees. Hearts and minds racing, we drove hesitantly up the road. After what seemed like an age, the trees opened out and a revelation was beheld.

We were greeted with an immaculate gravel driveway leading to the most beautiful of Cornish cottages. I instantly fell in love with the place. I went inside and was greeted by the owner who showed us the room which was absolutely stunning. We couldn't have asked for more, and with a warm handshake, the owner told us to make ourselves comfortable, using the living room if we required.

Knowing that we were already heading into late evening, and that it was such a clear sky, we decided to head to the coast and take in the sunset. And what a spectacular sunset it was! We had found a clifftop overlooking Widemouth beach, the waves crashing against the rocks on the shore, and a deep red sun plunging into the sea on the horizon.

After watching the sunset, we went down to shore level, and took a short walk along the beach. For me, the walk turned into a short run. I couldn't help myself. I came over all childish. With the air in my lungs, and my childhood in my heart, I ran as fast as I could to the waters edge. It was only once I got there that I became an adult again, and remembered that I was wearing shoes, and didn't want to get them wet. Not wanting to spoil the moment, I ran like a five year old all the way back again! The holiday had officially started, and we couldn't have asked for a better start.