Cornwall in March

We have returned from a wonderful weekend in Cornwall. When the weekend began we were not at all convinced that it would indeed be wonderful. Our dear friends had booked a cottage in the lovely village of Port Issac. However they warned us in advance that the cottage came recommended to them by one of their sons who has a different view of “warm and cosy”, so we were all a bit tentative. Our Sat Nav did a brilliant job getting us to the village and on to the street leading to the cottage. As we were approaching the address the street was getting more narrow by the foot. By the time we arrived at the front door the street was only wide enough for one car and there was nowhere to park and we had two cars to unload! Quickly we devised a plan and assigned tasks. We all grabbed bags and coolers and dropped them in front of the cottage. Pam and Helen went in search of parking while Ann and I took everything in and had our first look around our home for the weekend. The kitchen was okay and there was a log stove in the dining area. Two small chairs with throw covers stood near the fire. In general it appeared tired and worn. Mind you, it was probably built in the 1600’s. We head upstairs to look around. Things up here are not as pleasant as downstairs. The bathroom had a toilet, tiny sink and a shower that you had to turn sideways to enter. There was a further flight of stairs leading to the bedrooms. Overall it was bare and not overly comfy looking let alone “warm and cosy”. Ann was fearing the worst as she thought Helen would not want to stay in this dreary little place. So, we set to trying to make it feel more like home. We put away the vast amount of food that Ann and Helen brought. (We were under strict orders not to bring anything as this was their treat for us). Ann started to work her magic on the kitchen. The intrepid travellers took ages to return from the parking wilderness. They were both keen to make the cottage liveable for the weekend mostly because there was no way they were walking back to the cars again that night! Helen hit the kitchen to prepare dinner, Ann opened the wine, I set out to build the fire and Pam was unpacking. Fire now built using paper and a fire lighter, I was ready to light it. First small hurdle, no matches. We look through all the drawers and cupboards but no matches or lighters anywhere. Helen heads over to the pub in search of matches. She returns holding a small dish with a lit tea light in it, shielded by a newspaper. Owing to the fact that pubs are non-smoking now finding matches wasn’t so easy. Fire now roaring our first night was a success. In the morning Pam and I come down to a beautifully laid table for breakfast. Ann and Helen are there and announce that the one item that somehow missed the journey south was the tea bags! Pam says “no problem the pasty shop has coffee and biscuits for sale in the window I’m sure they also sell tea”. Off she goes…about five minutes later Pam returns empty handed saying “she does not sell tea bags and told me to go to the Co-Op”. Pam said it is at the top of the village on the left and according to Mrs. Pasty all roads in the village lead to the Co-Op. Fine, we settle for coffee instead saying we will buy tea bags when we go out. Breakfast finished we head out for a day of adventures. As we pass the pasty shop Helen says “hey look it says they serve fresh coffee and tea.” At the same time we all think the same thing, why didn’t Mrs. Pasty offer to se cups of tea to take away? We will never know the answer to that one. Needless to say we did not return to the pasty shop gain. We hit the road looking for the Co-Op on our way out. We reach the next village and Pam asked “did anyone see the shop?” none of us had seen it, this shop that all roads led to. Tomorrow I’ll tell you about the rest of our weekend.