A Week in Falmouth
Cornwall has always had a special place in my heart. I've been going there with my family ever since I was a very tiny baby - there are pictures of me lying on a picnic blanket absolutely screaming because I got sand in my eyes. For years we went to Padstow; my great uncle's family had owned two flats there for many generations and I spent many summers in the flat above the estate agents and next to the fudge shop. However, Padstow has become a very popular holiday destination over the last couple of decades, which makes actually going there pretty awful, mostly for my parents. Parking is impossible, it's too busy to do anything and (what a first world problem) there's little in the way of internet connection or TV coverage.
For those reasons we haven't gone for a couple of years (last year we went to Le Touquet on the northern French coast instead). This year, we really needed a holiday but going abroad wasn't an option. Cornwall popped up again. We were lucky enough to find a holiday apartment in Falmouth, right on the water (literally, I can hear little lapping waves out of my window as I write this). Falmouth is also close to where my dad's oldest friend lives with her family, so this trip ensured we would see them again.
The drive down wasn't fun (speed restrictions and traffic, joy). I hate long car journeys because my dad's driving makes me anxious and longer in the car makes me more convinced that he'll get us into an accident! Great daughter over here. Padstow was always a good five hours and Falmouth was a couple more. Eventually we arrived and found ourselves in the most delightful little apartment. I didn't take any pictures of the apartment, unfortunately, but it consists of three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a lovely little kitchen with every baking utensil I could ever dream of, and the loveliest paintings hung in all the rooms. Exactly what we needed.
(I have put a few pictures on instagram, including the view from our apartment.)
I had a pretty horrendous night's sleep on the first night (typical) and had a lazy Sunday as a result, but on Monday my mum and I ventured to a fairly pebbly Gyllingvase beach for a couple of hours while my dad and brother played golf. Cornish beaches are never particularly warm and I definitely shivered a lot while battling with Paradise Lost (nearly halfway now!!). Later we found the golf club where the boys were playing and sat facing the 18th green with ice cold Diet Cokes. Heaven.
The week before we arrived my mum was lamenting the slightly depressing weather forecast. We maybe had some showers at night and one or two cloudy days, in the end! That's Cornish weather for you. Also, sorry to that random man who I photographed and stuck on the internet. You did some nice putting.
The next day was slightly cloudier, but we headed over on the St Mawes Ferry to, you guessed it, St Mawes. It is the most delightful little seaside town, with very very steep roads into the residential streets! We had a pub lunch and walked to St Mawes castle, which is one of the most preserved castles in the country. Little has been done to it since it was built by Henry VIII in the sixteenth century. Unfortunately it was a little pricey to take a look inside (my mum did have an English Heritage membership at one point, but it's around £80 a year to maintain. Yikes), but we still had a lovely view over to Pendennis Castle.
We had another beach day on Thursday, this time at Pendower, which is less pebbly and slightly warmer after the sun decided to stop hiding behind clouds. We did that ultimate British-family-on-holiday thing and we brought sandwiches to the beach rather than finding a nearby cafe. To be fair, the 'nearby cafe' was an ice cream truck with a griddle installed because the old building was hit badly in the winter storms of 2013. The boys attempted to swim in the sea (still freezing in the middle of summer, because Cornwall) and I found some shells. I haven't managed to take them out of the cool bag pocket and photograph them yet, but I'll hopefully instagram them soon.
There's something incredibly thought-provoking about a horizon. It almost feels like that is where the world ends and you could go no further, but there's also that flicker of never-ending and going on and on and on. Continental Europe is somewhere in the distance, obviously, but horizons can make the world seem small and big at the same time.
Sneaky picture of Mum and Dad this morning on Gyllingvase beach again. They abandoned me on the fold up chairs and decided to sit on the picnic blanket instead. Rude. Dad then started talking about canoodling, which was very frightening. It was quite overcast this morning so we only stayed for an hour or so, but it was very quiet and misty. Spending the morning on a beach is very refreshing. I'm glad I got myself up early enough (normal sleeping hours again, thank goodness) as I've had mainly late mornings this holiday and I'm used to 8am starts at home. It was definitely worth it to see a little boy chase a seagull round the whole beach. Mum and I also did some shopping this afternoon, which became essential when my jeans ripped a little too far up the thigh a couple of days ago. I could do a Falmouth haul. Oh god. I'll see myself out. Basically - skincare, jeans, shoes, books.
I'm supposed to be waking up in eight hours to get all our stuff together before we head to our friends' house in Truro, but I did really want to get this post up. I hope my photography isn't too amateur and horrific! I had to edit these photos a lot - iPhone pictures are huge but they still manage to be incredibly grainy when I crop them down. Thank goodness for free plugins.
My next post will probably end up being a holiday essentials one, but I'm not home for another couple of days and next week is difficult as we are interring my grandad's ashes. I'll see when I can make a post!
Thanks so much for reading!
Catherine
xxx
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