We were ready on the outside - all bags packed, all food items cleared out, and all beds stripped - but we weren't ready on the inside. It seemed that every minute we had spent together in and out of that dream of a place had been faultless. We had visited the splendid Truro Cathedral and seen the baptistry opened up almost by magic, by two people simply lifting the top by a pulley system:
We had suffered through their Day 2 Covid test!
We had seen the wonderful Cornish Roots concerts at the Parish Church, and been thoroughly wowed.
We had watched sunrises and moonrises from up in the tippy-top of our three-story cottage.
We had eaten great food (mostly - with one possible exception being the Sunday roast, which the amazing Larry made three meals out of from our leftovers).
We had gone on long walks, talking and laughing along the way.
We had attended the best and most heartfelt Sunday church service, and been much encouraged.
We had watched as a Luggar boat came serenely sailing by on a perfect day.
We had spent a morning eating breakfast at the best place in town (I had made reservations 3 months ago), the Porthminster Beach Cafe.
We had found fisherman Stuart along the pier, and discussed the possibility of lobsters!
We had attended the rehearsal of the Mousehole Male Voice Choir in the lovely Paul church, and been treated with high respect.
We had visited the Leach Pottery, seen a Cello concert by candlelight, walked to Tregenna Castle on a clear blue day, and - perhaps the most amazing of all - been to The Minack Theatre and seen the HMS Pinafore! (we weren't allowed to film it, so I waited until the last actor had left the stage:)
And now, we were to go.
They would take the train to another city, and I? I was to move cottages. One of us said, "Maybe it should be two weeks next time?"
Someone else laughed, and said, "If they stop all the rigamarole, and all those hoops.." It was true. Coming here was made difficult, and we will perhaps need to recover just a bit.
But it's just plain fun being here. Many people asked us, "Are you here on holiday?" and we politely said, "Yes." But in actual fact, Cornwall is more Lifestyle, less Holiday. And the lifestyle has soaked in again this time.
We three climbed aboard the Great Western Railway together, to extend the 'holiday' just a bit. At Truro I got off, saying a quick goodbye before my throat closed in emotion and gratitude.
It's hard to see the backs of some people.
See you along the way!
the SconeLady
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