A True Lelant Treasure

It was decided that our first walk, on the first day of this lovely week, should be to Lelant. After that, no one knew. We would take it one step at a time.

Traipsing along the Coastal Pathway is always a delightful place to be, on holiday. The people you meet will always be kind, saying things like, "Thank you," or "Pardon me," or "Lovely day, isn't it?" when you are both overwhelmed by the unbelievably perfect Day you have been allowed to live in.

We had gone a couple of miles, talking (or "gassing", as Ted says it) away, not worried about a thing in the world, when all of a sudden we saw a sign that said, "Tea, Coffee, Cake". Now, any sign that says tea, coffee, and cake, is a sign to pay attention to. We halted.

The sign indicated that the tea, etc, could be found inside a small Church of England chapel just past a massive churchyard. Next to the massive churchyard was the Real church, and this little chapel stood next to it, and in its shadow. The churchyard was accessible through an iron gate. I wish I had taken a photo of it because it looked so wonderfully spooky. (You should really have seen it.)

We opened the iron gate, and crept in. All around us were the grave stones of long dead Church of England members, and between their grave stones were thick bunches of weeds and overgrowth which was so over grown that you really could not read anything on any of the stones. The stones themselves were so old that you probably couldn't have read them anyway. But we wandered around, trying to read them, and then became hungry and went to find the cakes.

Entering the chapel, we saw a table with cakes and a huge teapot ready to pour into our awaiting cups. We chose a piece of lemon cake and a piece of walnut cake to share around. And then Ted picked out a nice chocolaty one. I want to ask you something, dear Readers. Which variety of cake do you think was moist, and which one might not have been? 

You're right! The lemon cake was the moist one! See? I knew what you would say. All the cake varieties were delicious, though, so one way or another we were all satisfied.

While the tea lady was pouring and arranging our tray, we noticed something terrific. This chapel and church, as you remember, is in the village of Lelant. So, guess who was born in Lelant? 

Yes! Rosamunde Pilcher was born in Lelant! (I knew what you would say).We have seen her very house here. And in this little chapel there were dozens of photos of Rosamunde Pilcher, books by Rosamunde Pilcher, and testimonials by dozens of Germans who have followed Rosamunde Pilcher ever since they filmed her first novel back in the 1980s. It was a veritable treasure trove of Rosamunde Pilcher worship, and I was in heaven.

So we ate our cakes, drank our tea, and talked about all of the Pilcher books each one of us had read. Ted had not read any of them, but friend Rosie and 'our Em' had. And of course, the SconeLady had. The tea lady had. In fact every woman in that chapel, had. And every man in it (Ted), hadn't. What does that tell you?

You're right! It tells you that men have not discovered Rosamunde Pilcher yet! Perhaps 'they' should.

We gathered our belongings and determined to walk back to St Ives the same way we had come. So our mileage grew, and in the end, it was 8 miles! We were very gratified by the immense effort, and excited by the prospect that at some point tomorrow, we shall all get up and do the whole thing again.

When we finally got back to St Ives, Fore Street, the St Ives Bakery, and then the general vicinity of The Sloop, can you guess in which direction Ted headed?

You're right!




See you along the way!
the SconeLady