Not Putting Up Shelves

We took Burt for his annual trip to Cornwall, avoiding this year a stop off in Devon. We hoped that this would mean good weather. However on the day I broke up from work the weather forecasters chose that moment to announce that the Summer was over. Nice one the Met Office. (note: It just got better: August was officially the coldest for 17 years.)

It took many more hours to drive down than normal, but eventually we arrived at Magor Farm Campsite, which turned out to be just about the best campsite we've stayed at, for it's simplicity, cheapness and friendliness. And that I can say this even after Tim got bitten alive by midgies and we had to be towed out of the mud at one point.

The campsite is situated a mile or so from Camborne, just off the A30, in Magor Downs, sat right next to Tehidy Country Park. A mile up the road and you reach the cliff walk that runs from Portreath to Hayle. From there a left turn takes you to the beach, a right to Portreath's beach.

We set up camp at the far end of the site, next to the stream... spot our deliberate mistake... And with our new gas fridge and ace BBQ, we had all the food and beer we needed for a few days.

Snazzy BBQ

Our first morning's fry up, complete with kettle boiling away in the middle - I'm not sure you are going to be as impressed by this as we were.

Camp One, in happier times.

With Tehidy Park being right next door there was plenty of wildlife around; with a huge flock of birds, mainly 100's of rooks, flying in every night to roost in the trees around the campsite, and organised trips through the woods at night in search of bats and owls, it was a busy place.

Around midday, whilst enjoying the sun we spotted what looked like a bat flying around. For about 10 minutes the bat flew about (blindly!) and we realised why, as he was being chased by a swallow. The swallow was continuously swooping up and across him, dive-bombing him over and over again, chasing him all the way down to the far end of the field.

This is the swallow and bat in action.

Very strange.

We did manage to get a couple of good days out (before the rains came) on Godrevy and Gwithian beaches. Not too overcrowded, Gwithian is good for learning to surf. Whilst we were there the waves weren't particularly good for bodyboarding. I choose to spend my time reading and playing with my camera instead.

Me inside my beach tent.

We parked up next to the beach at the Sandsifter, a local bar and restaurant, which operates a pay and display car park. So it seemed only fair to have a drink or two at the bar, so we drove Burt back to the campsite and so we could walk back, drink, eat and then walk home some hours later. After a 3 mile walk, taking in some of the cliff top walk, we arrived just in time to grab a beer out overlooking the sea as the sun went down.

Tim by now was getting bitten alive by these little fellas, so we headed inside. We finished the evening with a free ice-cream given to us by the staff, before heading back down the country roads to see Burt.

No trip to Cornwall is complete without a trip (or two) to Fistral Beach, parking on the front row with the other "dudes" in their vans. I was even asked by one tourist if they could take their picture along side Burt, as they thought he was cool.

Fistral however has gone through a change since we were last there, and there is now a monster Life Guard station that Baywatch would be in awe of, plonked right at the top of the beach, blocking most of the view from the car park to the beach. So now the prime spots for looking cool are few and far between.

The weather started to turn miserable by mid-week. More October than August. We took a trip up to Padstow for the day, and dressed in our waterproofs ready for any quick showers, we walked around the port. Of course we had to have Rick Stein's Fish and Chips for Haddock, chips and Mushy Peas, along with a battered oyster - I say he should be treating them better; but they were very nice.

The sun was trying to come out towards the end of the week, so we took the opportunity to get the "tangerine machines" out and took them for a spin up to Tehidy Park and back down the other side.

Lake at Tehidy.

With lots of paths for walkers, cycling and horse-riding we had fun whizzing around, weaving in and out of various paths. I counted 5 "cool" from kids as we raced by.

We stopped a few times to take in the surroundings a little more, including the tree swing we found up in a clearing.

Then the perfect end to our few hours exercise, at the bottom of the park exit near the campsite, we found a little cafe serving cream teas outside, called Polcrowjy. Lovely.

Another day up at Fistral. This time it was raining on and off. Tim ventured in the sea whilst I sat and read the Guardian. I took a few pictures, though the monster life guard building snook into view.

By now it had been raining on/off for several days. Things were getting serious down our end of the field. Where we had walked was turning to mud and we resorted to wearing our wellies. This is not how it should be camping in August, in a field in Glastonbury in June yes, but not here.

So on the next bright day, on the farmers advice, we moved our entire camp over to the other side of the field. The farmer even helped us. It was a revelation to discover that over by the trees they actually saw more sun. The farmer was right, not only would the water drain away better on the slope we were now on, but the sun had longer to dry the ground out.

Condemned. Where we were was soon coned off by the site warden. There was still a couple of a families struggling along on the other side of the cones, getting stuck in the mud daily.

The downside to the sun was wasps. Mr Wasp seen here enjoying a Ginger beer. A short time later this wasp may have been involved in an accident involving a fly swat and my foot. But only after one of his mates stung me. Apparently they don't sting you if you leave them alone - Rubbish. Runaway!

On the farmers advice, we decided to take a walk along the country road to the edges of Camborne to what would be the nearest pub to the campsite.

The Cornish Chough had a pool table, and after Tim beat me 3 to 1, we moved on to the Dart board, where I was a clear champion. I was at my peak 3 pints level by this point. Several JD's later and we were both conversing with the locals and the bar owner. We perhaps overdid it, and that last drink, a brandy, was probably not a good idea.

Still we made it back home in one piece, guided by a full moon.

Another day on the beach beckoned to shake off any lingering hangover. We made a quick stop off at Philps Pasties in Hayle first to refuel.

We took Burt up to the National Trust car park at Godrevy. With great views from the cliff top car park, it is nearly worth the £4.50 fee.

We took a trip around the coast, zipping passed Penzance and stopping before Land's End at the Minack Theatre (Follow this link to see live video streaming from the theatre.) The Minack was cut into the cliff face by a lady, Rowena Cade and her 2 gardeners during the 1930's. They were still adding and amending years later. Rowena was still using her wheelbarrow and mixing her cement well into her 80's. You can read all about her on the website here.

Another rainy day, so we decided to take a trip to Mousehole. This was very nearly another Port Isaac incident, after we took a turning heading for Mousehole that wasn't quite wide enough for Burt. But after some tense moments and corners, we arrived at the harbour.