England: Falmouth

Today we ventured over to Falmouth, which is a rather large port city along the English Channel. We took a new route that Derek had never driven, down a fair number of country lanes where we dodged tractors and oncoming lorries - at one point there might have been an inch to spare! It was a pretty ride, as much of the Cornwall countryside is quite picturesque. After getting turned around in Falmouth, we finally found the sign to our destination: The National Maritime Museum Cornwall. The car park cost £3.70 for 3 hours, but it was the closest one to the museum, which is situated at the water's edge behind Discovery Quay (pronounced kee).

The museum was a treat! Their special exhibition was on Search and Rescue, highlighting the Royal Navy and Air Force, and the Royal National Lifeboat Institution (a totally volunteer force with state-of-the-art ocean-going lifeboats; it is a charity, completely supported by donations). This was pretty spectacular with a helicopter you could board, and displays and stories of rescues and equipment they use to save lives along the coast.

Other displays include preserved boats of many different types, suspended from the ceiling, and easily viewable from the ramps and mezzanines around the displays.

 Later this evening, we went to the Bucket of Blood Inn. I had a Bucket of Blood Ale, an "eerily spicy ale", quite good actually.

While we were there, the church next door had bell practice!

England: A Quiet Weekend, then More Adventure!

This last weekend was quiet. We spent it around the house, save venturing out for a pint or two, and a couple meals. The weather was apologetic - damp, windy, rain, a peek of sun on Sunday morning, but more rain by midday! We watched Andy Murray get into the finals at Wimbledon, then lose to Roger Federer (no surprise, though it was exciting to see a Brit (well, technically a Scot) in the finals for the first time since 1938. No British male has won since 1936. Sorry, Andy, you played your best. We also watched the British Grand Prix which is infinitely more exciting than tennis. The Grand Prix circuit in general is a damn sight better than NASCAR ("Look, they're turning left! Oh my, they're turning left again! And therrrreee they go...yup...turning left yet again!" And that's just 3/4 of one lap!) The British Grand Prix doesn't generate the excitement that Wimbledon does, but then again, the British are a proper people and racing cars around a track is not nearly as proper as whacking little yellow balls back and forth across a very expensive lawn that sure does seem like it needs some new sod along the ends! Anyway, I digress.

Sunday lunch was at The Badger, a "carvery". In US terms, this is similar to a buffet, but you only go through the line once. The server carves off what pieces of meat you want (I had roast beef and pork, though I should have gotten some lamb, too), and puts a Yorkshire pudding on your plate (asked for or not), then you serve yourself from the assortment of veggies - potatoes fixed at least three ways, cauliflower, green beans (yay! no peas!), sweet potato mash, onions in gravy, stuffing, perhaps a couple I've forgotten. Then you slather gravy over the whole mess which seems to be a mandatory thing. In any case, it was pretty good even though the waitress got our dessert order wrong. In doing so, I discovered I'm not fond of custard - the ice cream would have been preferred over the Apple & Blackberry Crumble - a Proper Crumble, mind you.

Bins for each kind of material...

Today dawned bright and sunny, so it was time to take care of a couple of errands. We went by the surgery so Derek could straighten out his prescriptions (they've just moved to electronic prescriptions here, apparently there are yet a few bugs), then we went to the dump to get rid of a few things. It resembled ours so closely I almost thought we'd transported back to Chesterfield County!

After dumping all the trash (elapsed time: 4 minutes), we headed to Penzance again. I needed to pick up my train tickets for Friday, and Derek needed to pay a bill and make an appointment at the bank. I guess it was a good idea to get the tickets early, as the kiosk would not accept my non-PIN & Chip credit card, and the info desk that was able to swipe it and print my tickets closes at 20:00, an hour and forty-five minutes before the train leaves on Friday, and probably an hour before I planned to arrive at the station! Afterwards, I walked along the walk beside Penzance's harbour...here's a panorama of the scene (the exposures were different, so it kind of sucks, but you'll get the idea).

The harbour is to the right, the large rocky lump just left of center is
St. Michael's Mount.

This was another quick trip, and shortly we were taking the scenic route on our way to Land's End (not the store, though there is a Land's End store there, naturally). The scenic route took us through such villages as Mousehole (pronounced maus'-ole, not mouse-hole). The roads in these villages tend to be narrow!

Land's End, is as the name implies, the end of the land....southwest England's land, at least. Unfortunately, it has been built up as what we in the US consider a "tourist trap". The museum is gone, replaced by a 4D (not 3D,  but 4D) theatre! You must PAY for a picture by "the sign". We checked out the menu at the restaurant (very modern, and glassy). EIGHT BLOODY POUNDS FOR A PASTIE!!! I suspect it would have been frozen right up until they nuked it for you.

There was a display that was not well documented as to why the event happened when it did, and where it did, but with all the attention given bullying in schools there days, I thought the message was important, if the circumstances of its posting were not.

I took a picture of "the sign", and one of the Cornwall Air Ambulance display, then we beat feet and headed out to find a proper lunch.

Lunch was not difficult to find. We headed up the hill to the First and Last Inn in England, so named because it is the last pub before you get to Land's End, and the first one you get to when you leave (assuming you approach from the top of the hill, and not from along the coast). It is next to the St. Sennon Parish Church, founded 520 A.D. I don't think the pub has been here that long, but I suspect it popped up not long afterwards (wink, wink, nudge, nudge).

St. Sennon Parish Church

The Fanous First and Last Inn in England

I had a ploughman's lunch, with smoked mackerel. It was served with crusty bread (very, very good), a chutney of some sort (also very, very good), a salad "garnish", a pickled onion (YUMMY), and oddly enough, nachos and some sort of mustardy salsa which was OK, but not exactly authentic to a traditional ploughman's lunch.

We took the coast road back, with the intention of stopping at the Tinners Arms for a pint. It's a beautiful drive, and the tin mine at Carngalver caught my eye so we stopped for a look around. Tin mines started up hundreds of years ago, and as technology of the time allowed, became deeper and longer, some of them reaching well out under the Atlantic Ocean. Needless to say, this was dangerous business, and many men and boys died in the business of making money for the owners of the mines which are scattered all over Cornwall. These pictures show the Engine House, where the boilers for the steam engines were housed, and the Winding House, which held the winches and lines that pulled the ore to the surface.

After exploring a bit, we continued on to Zennor Parish. This is the home of the Tinner's Arms, a fine pub, the first I ever visited in England back in December 2007. Here's a few scenes from around the garden at Tinner's.

Yep, that's me!

The Zennor Parish Church tower, visible from
a long way away, as many of them are.

After our pint (necessary after driving the narrow roads of Cornwall), we decided to visit the Wayside Museum. It has been built up at the Trewey Mill, and was to say the least, worth every penny of the £3.95 admission price. These pictures show only a small part of the excellent displays, many filled with small items of everyday life in 1800's Cornwall.

Afterwards, we had another pint at Tinner's, then headed home, a long day of scenic beauty and Cornish history under our belt!

Tomorrow, who knows? Cheers!

England: Impressions

This is a rather quiet day, so I thought I'd toss out a few impressions from "A Virginia Yank in Queen Elizabeth's Court".

One strong impression is how we look at the "sizes" of things...there is a considerable difference in the sizes of things from what we are used to in the US. Let's look at a few:

Two cars can actually pass here. Last night we were on a
road where we had to back up to a wide spot so another
car could pass!

Personal travel. Most cars here are what we would call "sub-compacts". Fords, Kias, Citroens, Coopers, even Jags, Audis and BMWs are smaller here. No model names are the same as in the US that I have seen. I've seen a few full size Land Rovers, but even articulated H.G.Vs (Heavy Goods Vehicles, ie, semi-trucks) are much smaller than in the US. A typical semi has not 18 wheels, but 12. Petrol (gas) runs about £1.339 a litre. 3.78 litres equals one gallon, so £5.06 per gallon, which is $7.90/gallon! You also pay a yearly tax based on your emissions - a Ford Focus pays about £150/year ($234) just to own the car. Of course, you also have to account for the fact that most roads were built a LONG time ago, at least the ones that aren't modern motorways (our equivalent of Interstates). Sort of explains the small cars, trucks, almost all vehicles other than the coaches. Almost every road is paved, even private roads (we've been stopped by cows on the road a couple of times, but  they tend to be narrow and twisty. Even in cities, it isn't much better; in Cambridge the street Mark lives on is a single lane wide with people parked on both sides. In city center, you can count on having to find a wide spot to allow oncoming traffic to pass.

Lots of people walk or bicycle. I know the US could benefit from this custom. There are a lot more bike lanes, and lots of well marked crosswalks, many (in the cities) with their own traffic lights. Traffic is controlled for the most part by round-abouts. This even applies on motorways, though there are some regular exit and on ramps, typically with round-abouts at the top of the ramps. Maddeningly, there are some round-abouts with bloody traffic signals in them, too!

Most cities have excellent bus services. Almost every city, town, village has a bus terminal and the coaches are very nice. There is a rail station in almost every location, too, and transferring between the two is quick and easy. In my experience, at least, they are punctual, clean, and FAST! Passenger trains run at about 80-90 miles per hour. They are quiet and cool.

Housing is very, very different. Yes, lots of people own their own "detached house". But many more live in terraced housing, where there are rows upon rows of houses, each attached to each other on one or both sides. Entire streets are lined with housing like this. Most of it seems to be two story, and lots and lots of them are only two, or maybe three bedrooms. Rooms are smaller all the way around. Personal space is thought of differently here, too. Walk into any pub or restaurant and the tables are close together. Practically touching. But that's OK with everyone. We all just get along! One thing is for sure, Derek won't be able to go to any of his favorite pubs for weeks without being asked about that Yank that was with him! When you go to the places that locals go, instead of the tourist places, you tend to be remembered.

I should probably post this, then work on another one for later...catch you in the next installment!

England: The 5th July, 2012

Today brought more of Cornwall's "dreadful" weather. I swear every living soul, upon learning that I am a tourist, apologizes for the weather here. Thank you, but I'll take 60's and 70's with some clouds and an occasional shower (each and every day, it seems) over the truly dreadful weather in Virginia right now, coupled with the extensive power outages, and be perfectly happy to put on my waterproofs and just keep on trucking.

We drove down to The Lizard. The Lizard is England's southernmost point, and has more of its beautiful coastline easily available for a short walk.

This map isn't live, you can zoom around
by using the map here...

 The goal today was a bit further, probably a mile's walk from town center at the car park, down Lloyd's Lane to the Coastal Path, to Marconi's Lizard Wireless Station. It was here that Marconi first set the distance record of 186 miles to a station in France using wireless communications. The National Trust has recreated the station using time-correct pieces of equipment. The shed itself has been a number of things since Marconi left it in the late 1910's. Now it is a museum (all two rooms of it), and a separate building houses an Amateur Radio station that was unfortunately unavailable to operate due to mice having chewed through the underground coax out to the antenna. It is set to be sorted out next month, but that didn't help me.

The spark gap transmitter, the Leyden jars (early capacitors) on
the right allowed some tuning. The set operated in the 1MHz range.

The antenna "tuner". Moving the coil up and down in
relation to the coils under it allowed fine tuning the antenna,
which was connected to one of the thumbscrews on the front.

This was a later receiver, tunable, and driving a tape machine
that printed out the Morse code on the tape.

The receiver's convoluter. This was sort of the "crystal" that was
used in later crystal receivers. The tube in the middle of the U-shaped
brass support had metal shavings in it that would rectify the received signal.
A special relay would "convolute" the shavings by knocking them back
into randomness periodically.

A display of old Morse keys. As many of these
as I have seen, there were several that were
quite mysterious looking!

On our way out of town, we detoured to Keynance Cove, one of the most beautiful places I have seen in a long time. The cliffs here are about 200 feet tall! Note the tiny little fishing village in the pictures, if you want to walk a rather strenuous trail down, you can get ice cream at the shop there!

There's a sail boat in this picture1

My foot is hanging over the edge...it's sitting on very wet, slick grass
barely hanging to loose loam, sloped at about a 75 degree angle.

A panorama of the cove.

England: Tuesday and Wednesday

I think I mentioned that we went into Penzance Tuesday. Penzance is an old town (what towns in England aren't?). Anyway, we had lunch at Penzance's oldest tavern, the Turk's Head Inn.

While eating lunch, a gentleman next to us noticed I was American (could it be my bloody accent?). Turns out his only trip to America was during WWII when he was in the RAF and sent from Manchester, England "where you had to go to find out where you were going next", to Miami, Oklahoma (we think he said) which was "the middle of bloody nowhere". He told us they hitchhiked to get places and "everyone there was just lovely to us."

Then at the Angarrack Inn, everyone was greeting an older gentleman who seemed very unhappy. Sadly, Walter's wife passed away this morning. Walter taught Paul McCartney and George Harrison history when they were in grammar school (think posh private school). He used to give them hell for turning in their homework late. Their excuse? They were up late writing music...which Walter poo-pooed as useless, of course!

Yes, yes, it was an interesting day.

Today, we drove over to an ancient Celtic ruin. This was an early Christian chapel and baptism site called Boswarthan. The "well" here is a sacred site where even today, people will bring pieces of clothe and other items that have touched a sick person to leave as a plea for good health. You can see the items in the tree beside what I would call a spring. The chapel is actually quite large, and has been partially restored. You can see the stream falling into what must have been some sort of "font", and the altar is on the left. They only held a few people at a time, the chapel was for the saint - not the type of saint we think of today, but an almost hermit-like person who was the spiritual leader. These ruins go back at least 1000 years, perhaps as much as 1500-1600 years.

The Wishing Well and Baptistry. You can see items hanging
in the tree as pleas for wellness and prosperity.

The Celtic Christian chapel. The structure to the right of
the door had water flowing into it. We don't know exactly
why.

A view from the other side of the chapel. The altar is to the lower
left. The chapel's ground has sunken, so it is flooded when
there is a lot of rain like we've had here lately.

On the way to lunch, we also stopped at another ancient spot, a burial plot for what was probably someone fairly important. This was at Lanyon Quoit. The rocks have been placed back in their original position as the top rock was knocked off at some point. The actual burial was probably in a stone box placed in the earth under the monolith, with the cremated remains poured into the box before it was sealed.

Lanyon Quoit. Click the picture to see it full-size, and note the
large structure off in the distance to the left. That is the
abandoned "tipping house" or "engine house" of an
old mine.

This beautiful purple flower is everywhere along
the trails in Cornwall. It is called foxglove.
Beautiful, yes, but also deadly poison!

 Lunch was at Tinners Arms Free House in Zennor. When I came here in 2007, this was the first pub I visited, and the bartender was quite surprised when I said this wasn't my first time. I guess most of their repeat business isn't five years apart, and is probably lot more local! Lunch was Garlic Mushrooms and Spinach with Linguini and Goat Cheese, accompanied of course, by a pint of Tinners Arms Ale.

The Zennor Parish Church tower

After lunch we hiked along the Coast Path, out along the edge of Cornwall. It was a beautiful day, and the views were spectacular.

After this hike, we drove over to Hell's Mouth. For the first time I wished I had my pro camera gear, with the  ultra wide-angle lens. My mind is the only picture I have of it! Two hundred foot cliffs, total beauty.


Who knows what tomorrow will bring!