The Compostual Existentialist

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Holiday 2012 : Part 2 Day 5 – Of fish, Cornish and fish again

So the last full day of our holiday arrived. Rather than spend another day driving around without clue, we opted to take it leisurely.

I wanted:-
To go for a swim
To eat ice cream
To eat fish
To drink cider
Zoe wanted:-
To go on a boat ride
To see Cornwall
To go to the National aquarium

So we drove once more into Plymouth.


Having parked up paying 9 pounds for a full day parking, we made our way into the Barbican district. We checked the times for the ferry and then went into the National aquarium centre.

It was a stark contrast from the previous day where there was queues around the block this time we walked straight in. we paid our entry fee and made our way to the top of the tour.


It has been a long time since I have been to an aquarium in the old days you would be lucky to see a couple of goldfish in a spherical bowl and maybe with a couple of crabs. the Plymouth National aquarium centre is full of fish in fact my stomach was rumbling just at the thought of such delights. The previous nights lemon sole was still fresh in my memory and with every sole I saw I was salivating.


Zoe seemed to enjoy herself. she saw some stingrays and other giant fish and even had her photograph taken with a mermaid. She was like a child in a sweet shop where as I was like a hungry person in a fish restaurant.

The tour at an end, we made our way to the ferry departure point. while there we observed the boats coming and going and was surprised at the small ferryboat that arrived to take us to our destination. We were lucky to get on it was so small. I mean 5 inch ferryboats….how are we meant to fit on a 5 inch ferry boat?

Our destination today was to Cawsands. Again a Cornish misnomer as there was no sands, just sharp pieces of small broken rock.

Cawsands is a small fishing village once on the border of Cornwall and Devon. It neighbours the village of Kingsands. Again a tourist trap; narrow streets, cute buildings, full of tourists. Still pleasant enough we stopped at a pub intending to have our cheap lunch however the pub was very expensive. £6.50 for a Cornish pasty no much bigger than one you might get from Greggs or Ginsters. While Zoe had a couple of pale looking Cumberland sausages and some unpleasant looking chips for £9.


A bit more walking and it was time to get back on the boat. I can’t comment how pleased I was to get back. Even though the ice cream I had was really nice I still felt kind of light in pocket.

Returning to Plymouth we then nipped into the cider bar on the Barbican. We sat outside on the quay watching the world go by. Before long it was time to head off to dinner. again we had chosen platters as our choice for the evening. I opted for the lemon sole having not thought of anything else since the previous night Zoe went for the mixed grill again.

Fully sated we returned to the hotel and took advantage of the spa facilities have an early night in preparation for the long drive home on the Saturday.

And here ends the accounts of the holiday. I hope you enjoyed reading

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

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Holiday 2012: Part 2–Day 4 Wall of Corn

 

Launceston CastleFollowing the mad tour of the east coast of Devon we decided to take a trip inland. Our guide books told us of the wonders of Cornwall and our brief trip across the Taymar on Tuesday showed us that Cornwall was closer than we thought.

But where to go were either of us hadn’t been before? Our first thought was “Oooh where does FJ Warren live? She’s Cornish. But the thought of a another long drive was not appealing. Instead we peeked at the maps and guidebooks and settled on Launceston.

Launceston Castle

According to the guidebooks, Launceston was the ancient Cornish capital. It had a castle, a steam train and other interesting things like cider farms on route. So it seemed like the natural choice. So once more across the Taymar we went noting for the second time that week that people are charged to leave Cornwall and not go in.

Launceston is…boring. Tatty around the edges. Pretty. But boring. After a brief 10 minute walk it appeared we had done Launceston. So we tootled up to the castle to have mooch there. But at £7 each to go and look around some crumbling ruins we thought £14 would be better spent on cake or fun. So way ahead of planned schedule we buggered off back to the car and went to see where else we could get to.

The Bodmin Moor of my childhood was not the Bodmin Moor of my middle age. Either there has been a new road built across the moor in the 30 or so years since my last visit or my dad took us across Bodmin Moor along some weird unmarked B road. So much so, by the time we had reached Bodmin I was like “Oh, we’re here already”.

Bodmin Steam Railway @ Bodmin GeneralBodmin was interesting. Well what we saw through the car windows. But with only shops and more money wanting to be spent we thought another stop mooching round a provincial town was not on the cards. So when the only place to park for free was up a side street alongside Bodmin General, part of the Bodmin Steam Railway, we thought “But a steam train ride might be fun!”

So that’s what we did. We bought 2 tickets to Boscarne and boarded the chuffing chuffer.

It was fun!

IMG_0550Badger enjoyed it too!

IMAG0231

When we returned we stopped for a cream tea.

Full of cake and after a bit of geocaching, we hopped back into the car and headed toward Polperro via Lostwithiel. Lostwithiel is described as the Medieval Capital of Cornwall. Again, it was quaint, children were playing in the river and shops seemed open.

One thing we had noticed during our time in the Southwest was that everyone seemed to be so miserable. Shop keepers and ice cream van men were no exception. I can only imagine that the misery was down to the lack of boobs on display. Cornwall needs more boobs. Or cake. Or maybe just a tickle.

PolperroAnyway, before misery got a grip, we headed off again, this time to Polperro. My nan and granddad visited Polperro when they were alive. I remember leafing through their photograph album at the pretty houses and narrow streets. Indeed it was. Narrow, quaint, overpriced and packed with tourists. Having been fleeced £4 for parking we wandered into the village to try and find somewhere to eat. We were a bit early and all the restaurants seemed to do nice fish dishes. Sadly none were open until half an hour after our parking expired and I didn’t feel like paying a further £4-£8 just to stuff my face. Our minds were made up by the time we had reached the quayside that we would head off to Looe and see if there was any other nice places to eat instead.

But before we could turn round and make our way back, a woman offered us a boat ride along the coast. How could we refuse?

So that’s what we did.

looeOn our return we made our way back through the tourists to the car and drove off to Looe. Looe reminded me of Skegness without the wind amusement arcades or Victoriana. It was heaving with tourists of the lower orders. Police men, our first since leaving the midlands, were talking to shouty drunk youths. Haggard teen mothers were dragging their screeching urchins. Young girls with more tattoos and piercings than a freak show jostled with loud shouty short haired scallies for chips from the harbour chippy. But our guidebooks insisted that there was good eating to be had somewhere in Looe.

And yes. They were right. We stopped for dinner at the Smuggler’s Cot in Looe where I had the biggest Lemon Sole (and bones) I’ve ever seen. It was delicious! Meanwhile Zoe struggled with her mammoth 20oz D cut rump steak. She assured me that was delicious too.