All The Essentials

A few things have changed, but all the Essentials are still here.

You do see masks, but as no one is allowed to require one, it really seems a matter of choice. The general feeling is that everyone here is so sick of you-know-what that it is probably time to achieve herd immunity, and simply take it on the chin. For the moment, this suits me. 

And...

The friendly shop owners are still here!

The gallery owners and artists are still here!

The SEA is still magnificently here! Nothing can, or ever will, change that. All I need to do is spring out of our front door, turn right, then left, and there it is. You hear the deep waves before you ever see them. 

On Sunday we wanted very much to take the Zennor bus, have lunch at The Tinner's Arms, then walk back via the Coffin Trail. We have done this many a time and it has become part of the general structure for the week. Once we even saw a cow giving birth to her calf! But on Sunday as we approached the bus stand, we found literally thousands of people packed onto either side of the road uphill, cheering and clapping and making all manner of mayhem. 

"What's all this, then?" asked Ted.

"No idea," said I. "They sure seem excited about something." Then someone shouted, "Here they come! Watch out!"

We watched cautiously out. Suddenly, from around the corner there was an uptick in the shouting and the mayhem - a real Super Bowl ear-shattering moment - and then the man in front of me screamed, "IT'S THEM!!!"

I screamed "IT'S THEM!" too, and then everybody else was screaming because of who was coming around the corner.

Bicyclists, they were. A clutch of decked out men-on-bikes zipping up the hill At Speed, the way they do in France! It was some sort of race with a name I can no longer remember. In the midst of the shouting and clapping, and running, we still tried to get up the hill to the bus stand for our Zennor lunch and walk (we have our priorities). But that crowd wouldn't move, I tell you. It isn't possible to move a group that large when they are having a smacking great time watching men-on-bikes. I thought what a conniption-fit the British authorities might have if they ever guessed there was not 6 feet between any of those people.

But the cyclists were splendid. Not only did they dash up the road and around corners, but the cars in front of and behind them did too! These cars dashed at double speed, screeching tires and barely missing the hapless people standing at the edge. Someone's foot may very probably have been flattened. Anybody who has been in St Ives knows that there is NO ROOM AT THE EDGE OF ANY ROAD, so you had just better be ready to meet your Maker. 

We achieved the bus stand, but there was, it turned out, no bus to Zennor because the bus to Zennor never made it past the crowds. So we walked instead.

Did we finally make it to The Tinner's Arms?

Well, we did. But it was a long time in coming. We walked for over an hour only to discover that we had just arrived at the Norway Store, two blocks from our cottage. We stood looking dumbly at it when Rachel very sweetly said, "Does the Norway Store have other branches in St Ives?"

"Well, umm, no..." said the SconeLady. Would it do any good to say that in St Ives it is perfectly plausible to think you have walked 5 miles when in fact you have covered only a couple of blocks?

I didn't think so.

See you along the way!

the SconeLady