Cornwall is England's furthermost south-western county. It's remote, it has its own customs and traditions (and its own language, which, sadly, is rarely spoken nowadays), and it's beautiful - though, when the mists are down, beautiful in a sombre, haunting, mysterious kind of way. It's Celtic to the core, and has much in common with Brittany, that other proudly Celtic and independently-minded region, which lies just across the Channel in north west France.
The cliffscapes became even more rugged and ravishing, and the views inland, over small, misty fields, more open. In this photo you can see my walking poles resting against a wooden Coast Path marker. Note the acorn, symbol of the trail, and the yellow arrow (seeing these yellow arrows always made me recall the yellow arrows of the Spanish Camino...)
I spent a night in Crackington Haven, a place well known to geologists for its tortuously folded rock strata. The Coombe Barton Inn, where I stayed, was rather haphardardly-run, but the home-cooked food was excellent. I ordered soup, followed by a delicious fish pie. And, instead of the usual shower, I found a big bath in which to luxuriate...
3 comments:
Once again, Robert, I love the photos and long to be there. Great to have an advance scout reminding me of where I need to go next. You are a lucky man to live in such close proximity to some of the world's most beautiful landscapes and seascapes.
Robert - these expansive views of the southwest coast path are spectacular. How blessed your nation is that private foundations or government or both had the foresight to protect these lands from the ever-invading, dreadful developers. So many miles with Earth's glory unobstructed.
Yes, I realise it, and honestly do feel truly blessed to live near such magnificent landscapes and seascapes. When you think how so much of the Spanish and Italian (not to mention the Floridian!) coast has been ruined by developers, you really do have to praise and support such organisations like the English National Trust.
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