… lies the beauty of Cornwall. Once again because I have read so much about it, I felt like I knew it, despite never having been there. Our accommodation was beside the harbour in Falmouth where hundreds of boats are moored and you can watch the ferries coming and going. One drizzly morning we took a ferry up the Falmouth and Truro rivers as far as the tiny hamlet of Malpas. It was magical in that light – the dense foliage that grows down to water level was reflected in the green of the river. There were glimpses of stone cottages, some of which housed smugglers back in the 18th century, and grand houses, the grandest belonging to Lord Falmouth, who still owns all the land you can see on both sides of the river. In one bay there is a pub that dates back to the 13th century and we had delicious fish pie there one evening.
We visited St Ives on a glorious day when the sun glinted off the turquoise sea and holidaymakers thronged the beaches, cafes and ice cream shops. We enjoyed exploring the narrow, winding lanes of Down-along and went into some of the numerous art galleries that are dotted around the town. The jewel in St Ives’s crown is the Tate – a spectacular building housing interesting art.
We also drove to Penzance and onto the charming town of Mousehole, with its quaint walled harbour and meandering lanes. Further along the coast is the Minack Theatre perched on the cliffs overlooking Porthcurnow beach. We enjoyed a performance there as the sun sank behind us, not sure whether we were more captivated by the actors on stage or the vista beyond it – darkening sea, rising moon and even a white-sailed boat moving gracefully through the scene.
Most of the tourists we encountered were from other parts of the country, with a smattering of Dutch and German visitors. Every English family it seems travels with their dog/s. There are dogs in hotels, in restaurants, on beaches, everywhere. On one train trip an imperious young woman with a large dog commanded us to move from our seats in order to give her dog more room – we did not comply!
Readers of this blog will know that our favourite New Zealand seaside spot is Raglan, which is on the west coast of the North Island, south-west of the Waikato city of Hamilton. But last weekend we ventured over to the east coast to Mount Maunganui, known locally as the Mount. The two coasts couldn’t be more different. Raglan has waves courtesy of the Tasman Sea breaking off a series of points, black volcanic sand and a steep ridge line descending to the beach. Access to the beaches at the Mount is through gently undulating dunes and you emerge onto a wide white sand shore. There are some surf spots but generally the waves are small and placid as befits the Pacific Ocean. Raglan has kept its small surfer town feel whereas the Mount is all large modern houses, shopping centres and restaurants. Nevertheless we had a good day – Jim got into what surf there was and I took a long walk down the beach towards the mount itself and then followed the track that goes right round it. We got some tasty lunch from the food trucks that line the main beach before heading back across the Kaimai Range, which separates the Bay of Plenty from the Waikato.
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Travels from New Zealand 