Tintagel

Tuesday dawned bright and sunny. So we decided to walk into St Dennis where we had observed a bank and a butcher, as well as the spar. It was a beautiful morning for a walk. We ran across an older lady walking very slowly also towards St Dennis. We ran across her again on the way back. She had very nearly made it as we were on our way back!

Alas - the bank is only open on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. No money for us! There is a cash machine in the spar, but they charge for withdrawals. Luckily, we had The Builder’s birthday money with us and could borrow that for the time being. We raided the butcher for some beautiful looking steak and came back to the cottage.

And so to Tintagel, along some very small and winding roads. Not quite sure about Jenny’s obsession with small and winding roads. There were perfectly serviceable wider roads we could have used!

We found a car park, and a cash machine and took ourselves of, all cashed up, to Tintagel Castle, alleged to be the birthplace of King Arthur, now mostly medieval ruins and up on a very, very high headland. We headed into the English Heritage cafe for a fortifying plate each of pasty, chips and beans while we pondered if we really had the stamina to climb all the way up.

Of course we do.

And off we went, up some very, very steep and very, VERY deep steps to the headland, which is oh-so-nearly and island and where part of the ruined medieval castle stands. There are also, dotted about the headland, the ruins of houses and homesteads and other buildings. There’s a chapel. There are magnificent views. There was also a man with two back labradors (Hector and Henry), whose wife had decided to climb the other, less steep stairs to the other part of the castle on the land side of the bridge. We all went back down the steep, steep stairs and up the less steep stairs on the other side to join her.

They may not be as steep, but by golly they were hard work. Much, much harder on the back and the legs than the other side. I’m not sure she believed us but it was definitely true! You clearly had to have lots of stamina and to be very fit to be a medieval Cornish king. And a medieval Cornish homesteader, come to that. You can see that both bits of the castle would have been easily defensible - and the headland almost impregnable. But you really wonder about the obsession with steep, out of the way places for castles and their attendant villages. If I were the king, once I’d got up there I would be hard persuaded to leave again!!! Although - I suppose if I were the king, I’d have a horse to carry me up. Well, if I were a homesteader ….

Advised by one of the EH steward, we clambered up the headland and made our way to the Saxon and Norman church and thence backdown into the village. It was a lovely church. And we ran across two black pigs in a back garden on our way back to Tintagel village. We also ran across Hector and Henry in the Old Post Office, which is a lovely medieval building in the village centre. We flashed our National Trust cards to gain admittance to that. I probably wouldn’t have paid to get in - I knew that my exploring energy was beginning to fade! We stayed a short time and then went for a restorative ice cream before heading back along main roads (such as they are) to Camelford, where we stopped to collect it for Lindsey.

We had intended to head to Padstow to look at the fish shops, but decided that we were really explored out. We did stop at a passing Tesco for some mushrooms and some wine (I know we don’t usually use Tesco - but needs must sometimes!) and came back to the cottage where I think we were both quite pleased to take our boots off!!

It’s misty and damp again this morning. Not as wet as it was overnight when it absolutely poured down, and it is beginning to look as though it might brighten up a bit later. But I think today will be a good day to go to Eden. We’ve only got today and tomorrow left, really. And Eden is why we decided to come to Cornwall - and anyway, I’ve already bought the tickets. It would be silly not to go. And tomorrow looks as though it might be a sunnier ay than today for outside exploring. Eden is effectively inside.

Had a very alarming experience this afternoon. My brand new iPhone bleeped at me in the Tintagel car park to say it had a message. I fished the hone out of my pocket - and it was completely dead. Utterly unresponsive. I assumed it had run out of battery power. Brought it back to the cottage. Plugged it in. Nothing. Waited half an hour. Nothing. Got Taffa to hunt for Cornish Mac shops (I have my pay as you go phone with me, luckily!) No Cornish Mac shops :-( Nearest one is in Exeter. Not going all the way to Exeter. There is, however, a Mac repair place in Newquay. Could go there, I suppose. Newquay is not all that far. Disconsolately hit the iPhone’s on button - and behold! The Mac Apple symbol appeared. And the phone turned on. I have no idea what caused that little bout of sulking. Or, indeed, why it decided to come back to life. So far it’s still working this morning!!!

I wonder if it is possible that I might have become too dependent on web access?!?!?!?!?!