It was a tiny sweet bus this time, no double-decker and no open top. The open top variety had been discontinued until next summer so here we were, swaying around in the tiny sweet bus, filled with the Cornish and their tourists. Everyone, it seemed, wanted to go to Zennor.
There were a bad few minutes when we thought we might actually become sick (the tiny bus was making a lot of sharp turns, and was HOT inside). But we didn't become sick. And then we were all piling out, striding toward the Coffin Trail.
The Coffin Trail is interesting because on it, people used to carry the coffins of their loved ones from their farms to the nearest village. At the center of these villages, there was a church. There is always a church, and these churches aren't like the flimsy ones built in the U.S. that might last until the next hymn is sung. These churches are the kind that are built to last thousands of years, made of granite, and splendidly strong. To these churches, the families brought their loved ones; the last, long walk.
We walked along the Coffin Trail two weeks ago, then last week, and now today. Three walks along the Coffin Trail. The first time, it was 7 miles Long. The second time, it switched to 5 miles (do not ask me why, because I will be clueless). And the walk today was 5 1/2 miles. But however long each walk turned out to be, it was all worth it, and beautiful.
Before the walk from Zennor to St Ives, though, one must have sustenance. You may choose between the Tinner's Arms (a very good pub) and the Zennor Chapel Cafe. Today, we stepped over to the Zennor Chapel Cafe, which had earned itself a 10 out of 10 for their amazing scones two weeks ago. Just look at the amazing Sweet Potato Sausage Stew the SconeLady's husband ordered! Of course, I had a cream tea, but in the end I wished I'd had that very terrific stew, having tried some of his. The scone was not just perfectly up to par this time, which surprised me. Normally a good scone remains a good scone. I have very few deviations.
The 5 1/2 mile walk through pasture green and over numerous stiles and through various gorse bushes was satisfying. I was with someone wonderful who takes such care of me that worrying, or even thinking about worrying, doesn't come into it. Such a thing is lovely, and enviable.
And now, having made it back to St Ives, here we sit in our cozy cottage and planning out what will happen tomorrow. Half the fun of doing things is the planning of doing them. Of course, the story-writing is always at center stage, but one must stride forth, have food, walk lovely pathways, and talk over pots of tea. Yes, the St Ives lifestyle provides all of this, and more.
But before I go to bed I'm going to have to pick the gorse bushes out of my clothing. They stick like anything.
See you along the way!