It is a well known fact that a flying trip to St Ives is an endurance test of 24 hours. We know precisely how long it takes because we have done it bunches of times, beginning with climbing aboard the Cybertruck, and ending with a sometimes hair-raising ride to a cottage in the back seat of a cab.
All the cottages are unique and filled with their own darling decor. This one has an ocean view, and an ocean, and a large number of boats (some with red sails called 'Luggers'), lots of free-wheeling sea gulls, and a stair lift.
a What? you ask. Yes, it has a stair lift - as in Carl Fredricksen from the animated movie called "UP", when Carl needed one because his knees or ankles or legs weren't quite at the top of their game. My own knees, ankles, and legs are fairly tip-top. But I'm liking this Carl Fredricksen "UP" character, now that we have something pretty profound in common.
The 24 hour ordeal ended at 5:35pm on Friday evening as I waved to my friendly cabbie, and turned to greet the owner of my cottage. We were to meet there so he could give me the keys and show me how to use the stair lift. It's hilarious.
I was feeling the effects of only a couple of hours sleep on the plane and train, and was probably speaking gibberish. So we finished with the tutorial and entered the cottage. I was instantly silenced. Faced by a wall of shining, gleaming windows, I could only think of only one word to say, and said it again and again. "Stupendous!"
For there was the sea. A sea you cannot describe enough. A gem-of-a-sea with mesmerizing colors mingling in a million ways, reflecting the sunlight in all its glory. And out there standing, and sitting, and swimming were the people and the dogs, shout-barking and having one beauty of a time, and I wanted to be out there too. But there was no time because I needed food! and so I thanked the kind owner, clutched my keys and ran off to my little essential chore.
(If only I had a Butler! Or at least an Amazon Fresh delivery!)
Thus ended my first day in St Ives, 2026. Have you ever adopted a town? or a county? or a State? or a continent? No country could ever replace the good old USA, for me. I knew this decades ago, standing aboard the SS Austraulis as that mighty ship slowly approached the Panama Canal. A group of Americans stood there together, silenced by the appearance of the American flag. Old Glory. Stars and Stripes. I looked around at these dear people, American to the bone. Many had been away for years, and were washed by the grip of a love they remembered afresh. All of us wept.
So there will be no adoption process; no saluting of somebody else's flag. But I sure do like it when I fly across the Pond. Just look for that American lady in row 46 seat C, the one who is grinning from ear to ear.
That'll be me.
See you along the way!
the SconeLady
