a few days, out and about in North Cornwall

December 3. we had quite a day planned

first of all a trip to Port Isaac where Doc Martin was filmed.. a bit of light-hearted fun.. a lovely walk down into the village

looking across the bay, we saw the house where the Doc lived [well, in television land.. where it seems I have been living also!]

a beautiful little village with many, many little narrow streets and home upon home virtually built on top of each other.

as I walked up towards Doc Martins house, I asked someone if the Doc was in..

then to Rock where we were planning on catching a ferry across to Padstow... but of course, it was not running between November and February.. alot of businesses close down during the winter months. we knew that of course. so we drove round to the town made famous by Rick Stein. the rain poured down...

 

so we ran to a fish and chip cafe and sat down to cod and chips and a much needed cup of herbal tea for me. then ran across to a fudge and chocolate shop, bought some chocolate. the woman who worked there was so, so nice.. kept calling me darling. it reminded me of my nan so much.

I would have liked to have strolled the streets of Padstow, but the rain was heavy so we drove on.. with not much in mind..

so a visit to St. Columb Major - a place that is on my family tree quite often

 

I walked through a local church grave yard.. not even sure if the right denomination! but I felt a kind of peace.. as if all this searching was coming to an end. [those of you who know me well, will know of my search of belonging..]

a pretty town..so I am happy with that. I don't know exactly where the ancestors lived so I will lay that ghost to rest, knowing that they were here, walked the streets and lived nearby. somewhere. but not far from St. Columb Major is a wind farm and a major highway buzzes past not far from the quiet village.. all the trappings that go along with modern day living.

as we drive along, i sometimes take notes of my thoughts and feelings.. and they are coming thickly as I travel on the roads in Cornwall..

"I am beginning to understand, that one cannot experience living in Cornwall by staying in someone else's cottage for a week.. it is really only playing house.. because I cannot live as I do at home, without all my own bits around me.. even though I go to the market and buy produce to cook... it is not the same, I don't have access to my spices and other such things that I need to cook, so our meals are basic and that is not fun at all"...

"and while all these little, beautiful cottages and farms look and sound romantic, the fact of the matter is that my ancestors lives would have been harsh and difficult'...

"I have always been proud of my Cornish ancestry, it was like a feather in my cap..much like those are in Australia who have a convict in the family tree.. and I am still proud of my ancestry but my recent ancestors went to Australia for a new life and I am learning to understand why and am becoming very grateful for their wise decisions. My roots maybe in Cornwall, my past lives may have been in England.. but my home is Australia"

December 4
 we decided to just take a short drive.. we had woken to a sunny day which soon turned to hail, sleet, rain and back to sun and this went on all day. not fun and truthfully, I am over the weather. I knew it was going to be cold.. and so many people warned me about that.. and even though I knew it would rain.. I just did not believe it would every single day.

we drove to Boscastle to see the witches museum but it was closed for the season.

parts of England seem to just close down for the whole of winter. don't quite understand that at all.. we had lunch at a little restaurant in the village of Boscastle

and then drove to Bodmin. Now I know where the term 'going Bodmin' comes from.. very odd place indeed.

The cottage that we are staying in is not as nice as we thought it looked.. the laundry is in a shed in the back yard and quite grubby and there are cobwebs in all the kitchen cupboards.. I have already vacuumed the lounge carpet and honestly feel like taking everything out of the cupboards and scrubbing it clean. When I had my little self contained cottage, Birchcot - I would always clean it thoroughly before the next guests arrived.. and there is an odd energy in the cottage as well. affecting us both. I went to Tintagel and bought some incense to do a cleansing. Joe has woken with a sore back and now I am beginning to wonder if there may be a resident brownie or piskie in the cottage.

from my journal:
"and as I battled the elements, with wind whipping through my warm jacket as if it weren't there and hail pelting at my face, I wished I was at home. And I realized at that moment, that I had been romanticizing Cornwall all these years, in my mind.
Life for my ancestors was not all about gathering herbs in sunny laneways as I had imagined, or being a village wise woman who others came to for help with spells and such.. it was a hard, harsh life. Cold, dismal, damp. And again, another ghost of yearning was laid to rest for me"

And as I journey across North Cornwall this first week, visiting places from my family tree, I know deep within my soul that I am healing those ancestral lines that i have come to heal.

that said, the day today has dawned brilliantly.. SUN. So here we are in Newquay, in a pub having lunch while I blog.. and then to St. Enoder and Indian Queens. two more places that are on my family tree...