Cornwall, Day 17 (the Golf Club and The Train)

Just picture for yourself a little train heading your way, supposedly to stop and collect you to take you to where you wish to go, and then it doesn't stop but speeds straight by. The Conductor stares ahead of himself and does not at all notice poor little you. This happened not once, but TWICE today. We were meant to be picked up, the train website said. But it didn't stop and so we looked at our phones again to see if we could determine when it would stop, and readied ourselves for it. We stood there again hopefully and this time the Conductor looked at us as he sped by, with a "We're Not Going To Stop You Idiots" look on his face. 

Our jaws dropped. We could almost see the 50 or so people on the train laughing their heads off at us, the poor hapless Americans who couldn't for the life of them read a train schedule. In the end, we walked. It was what we should have done in the first place and were enormously glad we eventually did.

We could hardly believe it, looking out at the sea and the sand which followed us for miles. Nothing could have been any more beautiful than this:

(are you swooning? I am)

The walk was on our 'list of possible things to do', along with about 17 other things. But we wanted the train at first in order to make the trip a bit shorter. 

The coastal pathway

Carbis Bay, Cornwall

The train of which I am speaking is a famous train, here. It is the sweet small train that takes the fans of St Ives to either Carbis Bay, Lelant, Lelant Saltings, Lelant Station, or St Erth. And then it goes back again, and lets other people off and picks more of them up. It is dreamy. 

We wanted Lelant Saltings, because Lelant Saltings is close to the West Cornwall Golf Club, where the brotherly traveler wants to go golfing. Today was to be a 'scoping out' day, a day where we could talk with the proper people and get the proper details planned for tomorrow's day of real world golf. And this actually happened, dear Readers. We found our way to the Club and went in. All sorts of questions became answered, a tee time was confirmed, the SconeLady was told she would be allowed to 'follow' the brotherly traveler (at no additional expense), and a luncheon was prepared. It was completely scrummy. 

The fact that the sweet small train did not pick us up at the end of these adventures is only a small glitch, really. But I do think we could have gotten along without that look on the Conductor's face. 

See you along the way!

the SconeLady

West Cornwall Golf Club