Cornwall {part 1}



st michaelslowtide








I’ve finally managed to sort through the photographs from our trip to Cornwall, paring them down to just my favourite few. It’s been tricky to choose: there was so much beauty that my camera was never far from my hand. Not a day has gone by since then when I haven’t wished that I was still there, driving down the wild flower laden lanes, inhaling the salty breeze, gazing out at the sparkling sea.

We stayed in the small fishing village of Mousehole. Early each morning when the boys woke up, we threw on some clothes and set out for the sea: poking in the rockpools, balancing along the harbour wall, combing the pebbles for sea glass, sorting through the bags of shells in the honesty-box shop. At the end of each day, after our explorations, we strolled along the harbour once again, breathing the aroma of fish and chips and watching the colour gradually fade from the seascape.

St Michael’s Mount, on a grey and rainy day. Donning our waterproof all-in-ones, we met up with a Cornish friend whose children have an unbreakable bond with the boys, born from endless days first crawling, and then running, in and out of each others’ houses, back in our Bristol days. The band of comrades skipped along the causeway and raced up the path to the castle, regaling each other with tales of giants, and searching for the heart-shaped stone.

A sunny St Ives day. Arriving by train, noses pressed to the window to see the sandy sweep of the bay, with the town picture-perfect on the headland. Our pilgrimage to the Tate had been a long time coming, and it didn’t disappoint. Leaving its cool, modernist walls, we stepped out onto the golden sand of Porthmeor beach.

The freshly-minted four year old spent his birthday at Sennen Cove. We parked up on the cliffs, marvelling over the view before following the sandy path to the sea. Whilst the boys played, we christened the Kelly Kettle with a truly delicious al fresco cuppa. Sandy toes, lungs full of sea air, the kiss of the sun on my skin, the delighted squeals of the boys, a cup of tea with my love. These are the moments that I hold fast to.

{ Part two to follow tomorrow }


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