The friendliness of these people astounds me. Everyone seems to want to talk, even those who don't need to and won't gain anything by it. I have an example for you:
We two were walking along the wharf (you've seen a dozen pics of this wharf!), just poking around and looking at cottages, when my husband noticed a door. On this door there was a sign advertising the cottage behind the door, and I was immediately curious. You see, Rosie and I had been pouring over the variety of cottages on offer in Cornwall, and had closed our eyes to anything but beachy ones. Ones on the beach. Ones with sand near your toes. So this was obviously one such as that. Very sandy.
My husband and I then walked around to the front of it and found three people sitting down to their scones and their tea. The tea table was situated behind a white picket fence in the sand! It really was, quite literally in the sand. The table and chairs and picket fence were all in the sand, and the sea was mere feet away. My husband suggested I ask them about the cottage, and I momentarily quailed. But after quailing I decided, why not? I'm sure they'll be perfectly sweet.
So I approached a little timidly, whereupon they saw me and stopped talking. I asked about the cottage, and if they owned it, perhaps? The lady said, 'I wish!' and laughed. Then we were suddenly chatting enthusiastically about cottages in general, and this one in particular. They said, 'You wouldn't fit four people comfortably in there, oh no, we wouldn't suggest that. But go on in, take a peek in the kitchen!"
(Note: blue refrigerator!)
And I did. The kitchen (in fact, everything in there) was teeny-tiny, and ancient, and very unchanged from its ancestry (well, perhaps the red carpet was not there in the 17th century). Its views were amazing and lovely, and one would dearly hope no tsunami would happen outside their window because - THE END.
View of The Lookout October 11
It was all fabulous, with views to die for as well as a smashing kitchen. And everywhere I looked the walls were a gleaming WHITE! - my complete favorite (the lovely daughter back home knows all about this favorite, and shares in it).
It was so much fun, and all took place under the clearest most beautiful late afternoon sky. Suddenly Rosie and Ted appeared and met this kind man, and Rosie's eyes sparkled along with my own. There is nothing like a new cottage to look at and dream over.
The following morning, this very morning, our goodbyes had to be said, and Rosie and Ted had to go. We promised each other that this coming year would pass quickly, and we would again be strolling along cobbled lanes with our husbands.
In the meantime, there is one more week of the sea, and the harbor, and Cornish trains and - pasties! (I would like to try making pasties, myself; maybe when I get home..I hear you make them with a 'short crust', but I'm not sure what that is. Can somebody please help me out here? Rosie.?).
See you along the way!