As I type this I am looking not at my fingers on the keyboard but out a set of tall French windows, down a hill and over the rooftops of village houses to the sea. A stretch of beach and wide expanse of ocean is clearly visible from the living room of this cozy holiday house near Padstow, Cornwall, and so is a wide canvas of sky. At the moment the sea is grey and roiling, not to mention occasionally obscured by the gusts of rain and even small hailstones that are blowing periodically against my windows, but the sky has brightened even as I've written this paragraph and now I see sunlight illuminating the tops of clouds and the white breakers down on the beach beginning to settle down a bit.
The sea from Trevone Beach.
That's the thing about the British coast--weather changes so quickly it's hard to keep up with. I thought the day's outlook changed quickly in Nottingham (from sunny to cloudy to rainy to sunny again), but being here on the southwestern tip of the country, juttting out into the Atlantic, reminds me that I really am on just a small island.
I suppose late November isn't exactly the height of tourist season here in Cornwall but that's just how my friends and I like it. Our days consist of relaxing with naps, TV, Internet and books in the cozy, lovely but thoroughly modern house that's been lent to us, and I must confess to having spent hours already rabidly re-reading the entire works of Laura Ingalls Wilder, lifelong favorites that I found on the bookshelf here. Then there are long walks on the beach and coastal hills, visiting the local parish church (a very high church but charming Anglican experience) and coming home figuring out how to cook on the Aga. An Aga is a type of British stove that is always on and fills the house with heat. It's been a bit of adjustment learning how to cook using its various ovens and plates (and we've had some trouble keeping the pilot light lit, which is not normal), but so far we've managed to turn out some delicious soups and stews.
The kitchen--with Aga--of the beautiful home where I'm staying with friends.
Yesterday we drove the treacherous, narrow but ultimately exciting windy roads to Tintagel, a village known as the legendary home of King Arthur.
Imagine waking up to this view every morning. Here's a shot of the view outside a ruined window at Tintagel Castle.
Of course King Arthur as we know him is an amalgamation of myth and folklore with just a thin thread of actual fact, but he's long been associated with Tintagel and the ruins of the medieval castle on the headlands (although actually belonging to a 13th-century duke) are romantic enough to support the legend. After a long exploration of the ruins and surrounding hills, we meandered along the streets of Tintagel which, though crowded with a mishmash of gaudy Camelot-inspired souvenir shops, still offers plenty of Cornish charm. We finally had a cream tea (tea with hot scones, strawberry jam and Cornish clotted cream) in a pub called the King Arthur Arms. Alas, it was a square table.
It's hard to believe we've only been here three days, with one more to go before the 5-hour drive back to Nottingham. It'll be wonderful to return home feeling truly rested, for as much as the wind blows outside my window and the waves crash into the beach, I am holed up as snug as a bug in a rug (which, surprisingly, is a saying in England as well as in America).
There are many photos on this post and, believe me, it took a lot of work to choose my favorites from the many I took.
I peer over a bridge leading to the island where Tintagel Castle once stood.
Trevone Beach
An ever-changing landscape
The grass is green even at the end of November.
Tide pools at sunset.
A steep descent from medieval ruins on the Tintagel headland.
Ruins of Tintagel Castle up on a hill
Thank you, Andrea and Ming, for your comments! I so often forget that people are actually reading the thoughts I stick up here, and I also often forget what a privilege it is to be living in England for awhile. You both inspire me to keep sharing the stories.
Hi Stephanie:
I've been following your posts for months now and am truly enjoying them, along with the photos. Even though I'm much older, there are many similarities in our lives. For instance, I was born a Newfoundlander in Canada's oldest province, with a Glaswegian mother and NFLD father. I married an American after I moved to Chicago for art school (a fabulous city, I agree) and have lived in several cities in the U.S., as you have. I love the British Isles and keep in contact with my relatives in Glasgow. I also have a connection to Nottingham, as I have visited there in years gone by and also had an uncle who lived there and I think his widow and adult children still do. My father's ancestors were from Cornwall and Devon by way of the Channel Islands.
I'm am amateur photographer and I love the photos. I was always amazed by how green everything stays in winter in Britain. The last time I visited Glasgow was 2000, in January (not the most opportune time but I got a free ticket round-trip to London, so who could refuse?)and there were primroses blooming in the courtyard of my aunt's Victorian apartment building. I took a winter coat and hardly used it.
By the way, I'm a great fan of Stephen Fry, and my favorite of his movies was his role as Oscar Wilde.
Thanks for the blog and the photos. I'll be seeing you in print.
Hey Stephanie, it's a terrific place! btw, I love your words:)