We've not been idle over the last couple of days, although rising late, after 9:00am (still daylight savings time) daily.
Bodmin Moor, Roughtor, Monday afternoon
Mary expressed an interest in experiencing Bodmin Moor. This is a roughly circular area of land about 10km across which has been left pretty much alone in modern times. It's bisected by the A30 highway and contains a very few isolated hamlets and some of the land, if not all, is largely devoid of tall vegetation (such as forests). Our village, St Tudy, is only about three kilometres from the Moor's western edge but a little bit north of us, also on the edge of the Moor, is Roughtor, the name given to an area which is of great historical interest due to the remnants of human occupation going back some 5000 years. Walking trails allow access to this area but we used the car to get access to the entrance area, then set out on foot, passing many "hut circles" as we headed around the southern end of the dominating 400m high twin peaked feature also known as Roughtor (or Rough Tor).
Mary and a sheep on Bodmin Moor, Roughtor prominent on the near horizon.
Mary with Roughtor's higher peak in the background. Balancing rocks (natural, probably, but possibly human constructed) cap both peaks.
Gorse, I think, making a tough living against one of the rocks in a hut circle.
Roughtor's twin peaks.
A few sheep and horses grazed in the area, apparently unsupervised and largely unfenced.
Port Isaac, Wednesday
Some of you, I'm sure, would have seen the BBC TV series Doc Martin. Mary is a big fan of Doc and the people of the fictional and impossibly picturesque Cornish village Port Wenn around which the story is set. So we just had to visit nearby Port Isaac, the real fishing village which was used by BBC as the outdoor set for Port Wenn.
Looking across the harbour/beach to the sloping road on which Doc Martin's combined home and surgery are located. That's it on the extreme upper right.
The school, where Louisa worked.
Bored tourist and jumble of real fishing and crabbing gear. Port Isaac still makes a living of sorts from the sea but TV tourism certainly contributes a healthy slice of its income nowadays.
Boscastle, Wednesday 24Sep
Mary and I agreed that this was the best fishing village we'd yet visited. Boscastle is a small and relatively untouched sixteenth century fishing port. The car parking area is right on the edge of town and only a short level walk from the village and harbour. A pleasant couple of hours here on a sunny morning was therapeutic as it was not as hectic and pushy as other places we'd visited.
Two storey cottage with a normal sized person standing at the window.
There are big tides here. In this pic the entire fishing fleet is lying on the bottom of the harbour, whose entrance is around the corner, to the right, of that high wall.
The dog-leg entrance into the natural fissure on which the harbour is built. Pic taken at low tide, from near the top of the man-made mole at the harbour entrance.
Another view. The arrow points to the very squeezy 90° corner through which all vessels hoping to enter or leave must pass, and only when there's sufficient water, of course.
Looking down the creek toward the harbour
Nicely set securing lines, and presumably there's an anchor out at the stern. Hey Beanie, note the vessel name.
Tintagel, Wednesday 24Sep
Not far from Boscastle lies the village and clifftop island castle at Tintagel, beloved and flocked to by the deluded devotees of the King Arthur cult. It's one of those places that's worth visiting if you're in the area and if you have a spare six quid. Actually I could have got in free with my English Heritage card, as Mary did, but in a senior's moment (a too frequent event these days) I couldn't recall where I'd put my card and had to satisfy myself with clambering over the surrounding hills as I was too tight to pay the six quid. Later, I discovered the card had been secreted in a logical place, in the same pocket sized plastic wallet as my passport, which I carry with me always when travelling, and was with me at Tintagel. Anyway, Mary got to see more of the 1000 year old ruins from a more privileged position than I. (Thanks, Jane and Dick. You understand when I say my card.)
The most spectacular part of the ruins captured well by Mary and her little Canon.
The account of our Thursday visit to Rock and Stein Town (aka Padstow) will have to wait. We're off to the local for dinner and WiFi again.
Thanks for reading
Kev Long
Author iPad Traveller for iPad and Mac.
The technical stuff:
Our iPad is connecting to the Internet mainly through a cellular connection provided (prepaid) by the "3" network. On high ground and in town environments around Cornwall this connection is quite good but many places, especially in valleys and in small coastal localities lack coverage so no or poor connection. There are quite a few WiFi options available although not always advertised. Just ask if you're unsure if available. WiFi is of course the preferred method of transferring large amounts of data but I have been posting these blogs and their images using only a cellular connection either from inside our apartment where possible or on the roadside.
The cellular connection gives us both in car and on foot navigation capabilities which are essential around Cornwall, where mere printed maps struggle to provide sufficient detail at a manageable size.
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