Cornwall: Falmouth and St Ives,

October 3

Bristol to Cornwall is a long way, particularly if you head through the beautiful tiny cathedral city of Wells, home to the bishop of Bath and Wells. Wells, of course, is a tourist attraction, with its run of tea shops and pubs along the edges of the old market square, but once inside the cathedral grounds the awesome might of the structure overwhelms you. It is all of a piece, not bits and pieces from one or two eras (at least it seems that way) in a light sand colored stone, with intricate carvings and a lovely cloister.

It's famous for its scissors arch in the middle, built apparently to stop the main tower from sinking, but intricately beautiful to behold. The windows are not so grand as many others we have seen, such as Lincoln, York or French cathedrals, but the arrangement of the stone against the glasswork and the woodwork of the quire make up for it.

The Bishops Garden is nearby and surrounded by a moat of swans and ducks. You glance in and realize that Wells is known as a prime destination for Anglican bishops because of the beauty.

The drive down to Cornwall is busy, mostly 4 lanes and the countryside is gorgeous across Somerset and Devon. Yellow gorse bushes, green pastures of cows and sheep, distant copses of trees, very English. The town names all seem familiar to us, since many New England settlers came from the region, and the physignomy of many faces is identical to the WASPs of New England.

The Highcliffe House Bed and Breakfast is a contemporary BnB in a 19th century house overlooking the town of Falmouth, and a four minute walk down the hill to the main street...and a ten minute walk back up. Simon and Vanessa, the innkeepers, are delightful and very helpful.

Because we arrived on a Sunday, dining options tend to be limited, but we were suitably overfaced at the Balti Nepalese Restaurant where we ordered far too much food for our still limited appetites. Ben ate a vegetarian biriyani while John had chicken korma. We had nan bread Nepali style, which is sweet, and onions fried as an appetizer, much like an Indian version of onion rings. Served with a mint yogurt sauce.

Monday, October 4

Not feeling up to a lot of traipsing about, we decided to go to St. Ives, to the Tate and the rugged coast. We drove to a station where a park and drive train picks up visitors and runs along the coast to St. Ives. St. Ives is an artist colony of long standing, home of Barbara Hepworth, sculptor, and the Tate. Regrettably the Tate was closed for the week, while exhibits were changed. But the Hepworth lived up to all expectations for a sculpture garden.

Set on the side of a hill behind her house and studio, the studio is full of work of various shapes and sizes, almost a feminine version of Brancusi's. One of her pieces stands before the Secretariat building of the United Nations in NY.

St. Ives has enough surf for the never say die surfer to try, though the waves were not great. We saw two people swimming but I would guess the water might have been 60F (15C), crazy. The beaches are golden sand, for which S.I. is famous.

Back to Falmouth, naps and dinner. This time at Harbourview, a fish restaurant with a view of the harbour (yes, really). We had two bowls of seafood soup, croutons, and a bottle of local ginger beer, no alcohol. Just perfect for a lovely day. On the way home sheets of drizzle blew in the wind coming over the hill behind the town.

Tuesday, October 6

We set out to see the coastline, visit St. Mawes across the bay, perhaps even the Eden Project. Health did not cooperate. John is suffering a recurrence, and despite a fine visit to the National Health Service surgery in Falmouth, is being anti-bioticked and pain-killed enough to get to an emergency room in suburban London

However, we are trying to make the best of a bad deal: We decided to do some local site-seeing and if we felt well enough, extend it. First we crossed by chain link ferry over the deep fjord-like River Fal, used as heavily for anchorage by container ships today and the US and Royal Navies during World War II.









We visited a gorgeous little 13th century church and graveyard, St Just of Roseland, and the had a walk around St Mawes, which is very pretty but it was cloudy and cold so the thatched houses and lovely little streets leading down to the harbor did not shine, so to speak.

Tomorrow we head off to London and John can quit driving, which he is finding difficult, probably because we have a fairly large Czech Skoda Octavia, the same size and car as a VW Passatt (VW owns Skoda). It's not much different from my Acura in size and it's a diesel.