Zennor, and Beyond

We stepped lively, the three of us, having an important bus to catch. It was the open-topped double decker we had been promised and which a large number of other people were waiting for. There they all stood, watching us as we approached to cram ourselves into the group. The bus arrived.

Onto it we all piled, the three Americans gaining seats up top with the sun beaming down on us with just the right amount of warmth. This was perfect. We were content as the driver heaved his rig onto the road and dominated it utterly. Huge buses traveling on those minuscule roadways are almost laughable. But we had no worries. All the other vehicles had no choice but to get out of the way.

Soon we were climbing a high hill and then, cresting the hill, came upon the most marvelous vista. At first, we were stunned silent. Then out came our cameras and phones, and snip-snap we took rashes of photographs as the bus went on. The real stunners were the sunlight, the sea, the green green paddocks, the cows within those paddocks, the hedgerows, and every now and then, an ancient mine ruin. We ran out of words, and simply snapped.

The drive took us 6 miles, at which point we were let out at the beautiful village of Zennor. The scenery, the light and the sea were so magnificent that we were reminded again why so many artists make Cornwall their home (that sounds so awfully nice). But it was time to eat.

The prospect of a Cream Tea made us move toward the Chapel Cafe, which was advertising exactly what we wanted, and what the Scone Lady absolutely had to have. We went in.

The scones at the Chapel Cafe were so terrific, dear Readers, that I wish you had been there to taste them with us. You would have been impressed, I am certain of it. 

But let us now score these scones, and this Cream Tea. There was really only one discrepancy in the order, and the eating of the order. I had asked that the scones be served warm (Scone Lady Rule #1: it is impossible to consume a cold scone)

"But that is how they come out of the oven, Madam - warm." So I said thank you, and left it at that. But when the Cream Tea was brought, the three scones were, alas, cold. This discrepancy was corrected, and after that all became well. The Cream Tea sailed toward a Ten out of Ten, for the win! Hurray!

We finished off our Tea, snapped a photo of the scone baker (he is the gentleman in the background. Scone bakers are known to be shy about their splendidness), took out our map and began the long hike back toward town. 

The hike started out wonderfully and we could see all the Yellow Arrow signs on posts to light our pathway. There were tons of these Yellow Arrow signs, until half way. Then someone didn't know quite where to point us and so we stopped seeing so many of the Yellow Arrow signs. But at long last, we pieced together where it was we should be, went there, and found home. St Ives!

We had walked eight miles through paddocks, over granite stiles, stinging nettles, mud, stones, corn fields, and (wait for it) cow birthings. Yes! A cow gave birth to her little calf just a few feet from us. We watched in awe and wonder as Mama Cow kept turning her massive head in the direction of the calf as if to say, "Aren't you finished yet?" 

Isn't that amazing and fantastic? 

The day truly was amazing and fantastic, but also rather hard and wearying and now our knees ache. But we wouldn't switch it for the world, would we? because you cannot imagine how many of the world's problems were solved as we walked. They really should pay us for it. If only we could find a way to let them know.


See you along the way!
the SconeLady