I don't want to talk about That

The SconeLady's bags are packed

 St Ives gave me quite a shocking sendoff today, a real proper storm. This storm reminded me of my poor sister in Florida who has gotten to know their hurricane on a first name basis. Other family members close by are also threatened, as well as some of the grandchildren who are concerned about water overflowing the dam near their city of Spartanburg, SC. I can hear the  pings! of my laptop, updating us and asking for ever more prayers. 

 My taxi driver to Port Isaac today was the happiest driver I've ridden with. I had just gotten off the train at Bodmin Parkway, dragging a ridiculously heavy roller bag in a dreadful, knock-you-off-your-feet wind. I was supposed to go up 20 steps, then walk a ways to go back down 20 more steps. But the taxi man showed up smiling as I was attempting this feat. He took it off my hands and said, "Madam, for a small suitcase, this one sure is heavy." Understatement.

Cottage in Port Isaac

 As we got underway, he told me that 30 years ago his mother had taken him to Cornwall 'on holiday'. That was when decided to live here one day, to move while he was still young and fit, and start a driving business. Twenty years later, he is still young and fit (from my point of view!), and has made a great success of his driving business. I can testify to that because as we drove, his phone just rang and rang from people who had last-minute travel needs and couldn't he help them out? Oh please? He was so completely booked up that I was VERY THANKFUL I HAD PLANNED HIM AHEAD. 

 I have found that taxi drivers often want to talk about American politics to their American customers in the back seat, because they are a captive audience. But this man never dipped his toe in that water. He didn't even hint about people whose skin, for whatever reason, might be orange. It was a great comfort to me. Last week when my friends and I went on a long walking tour with some other people, one of the people wanted to talk about That, only I didn't want to. So Friend-Rosie and Our Em walked close to me on either side as protectors. Sometimes you need your own Secret Service.

Port Isaac Harbour

 I am in a new cottage now, and you can see it is cute and is where Doc Martin was filmed. It is also where the Fisherman's Friends movies were filmed, and everywhere I look there are tourists sheepishly taking pictures of the famous places they remember from the films. I don't remember very much about Doc Martin, but I do know where his little house and surgery were/are. And where the school is/was. There are signs up on these important places that say, "Please respect our privacy". Which means we probably shouldn't be taking the photographs.

 But we take them anyway. We even take pictures of the signs themselves, "Please respect our privacy." We can't help it. Today I saw a tourist walk up to Doc Martin's little house and surgery, and try to GO INSIDE. It was terrible! The SconeLady would absolutely never do a thing like that. 

(Well ... almost never).

See you along the way!

the SconeLady

Doc Martin's little house/surgery