Day 11 St Ives and Penzance

We started off early with a fortifying breakfast at the B and B. Peter and Norbert are both very keen to please and they do a mean scrambled eggs. I think they were a bit disappointed that we did not want the full English breakfast. Then it was into the car and off to St Ives. Peter warned us that it was only 50 miles but very slow as it was all narrow winding roads. We had a magnificent view of the whole harbour from the car park perched high up on the hill. It was a long winding walk down the hill to the harbour area. It was so pretty with all the fishing and leisure craft. St Ives is dotted with art galleries and art shops. when we got down next to the water we saw what we thought was a buoy bobbing about. It turned out to be a seal. A way down the coast there is a seal colony and this one was a particularly friendly and inquisitive one. That and the way it has embraced the harbour and all things nautical made it a very pleasant place to visit. We thought about visiting the Tate St Ives, but we really didn't have enough time. We had coffee on the front, then a walk out to the fishing pier. Here we began a series of miscalculations that saw us do a huge circuitous walk of the whole harbour as we tried to avoid the more direct but steep climb up to the car park. Conversation dropped to a minimum and jackets were torn off as we struggled up the road. Once back to the car we drove on to the coast and the area where the series Poldark was filmed. It was all ruined tin mines and bleak heathery landscape. Unbelievably, the shafts went down about half a kilometre and out under the sea for a kilometre and a half. John was a proper show off giving me the current values of any equipment we passed. We went underground briefly and then bought a Cornish pastie (what else) to take to the cliff edge and eat. As if on cue, the sea wind picked up and the sky turned an ominous grey blue. The only thing missing was the thunder of hoofs as handsome Poldark came thundering over the heath with Demelza, hanging on behind him, her red curls trailing in the wind. We consulted the guidebook and decided the best thing was to head for the south coast and Penzance. I really wanted to see St Michael’s Mount. The castle is perched on a rocky island out at sea and at low tide you can reach it by walking over the causeway. St Ives had knackered our knees but this was too good to pass up. We limped our way across the sand and after a little while the juices were flowing again. Small problem. To get up into the castle we had another very steep and very long climb over some very rough steps and cobblestones. Again we pushed on and were rewarded with a wonderful series of views from the top. We also toured the castle and its collections. It was one of the most well maintained historic houses we have ever visited. Curiously it is still very much a family home but of course the private quarters were locked. We think the polite young man who welcomed us inside is the young heir of thee house because inside we saw framed pictures of him next to those of the lady of the house. The tide was supposed to come in at 4 and we allowed enough time to get back along the causeway but the tide came in unexpectedly early. All the tourists had to be shuttled back to the mainland by a very efficient flotilla of boats. We took the road back to Truro via Falmouth but by this time we were too tired to really take an interest. A short rest was needed, and a cup of tea before we headed out on foot to find a place for dinner.