Up and on the road down to the famous Lost Gardens of Heligan. Now, what I can’t understand is how you can just conveniently forget that you have 1000 acres of amazing gardens surrounding your home and have it become lost. What were you doing, Tremaynes? Counting your money? Anyway, somehow this happened and the gardens which were in their prime from the mid 1700s to the early 1900s just disappeared! The manor was built in the 1200s and was purchased by the Tremayne family in 1569. It seemed WWI proved a bit of a distraction, wounded soldiers moved in, then the American military moved in during WWII and so on and so forth. It wasn’t until 1990 that Tim Smit (yes, you’ve heard his name before….Eden Project) and John Willis rediscovered the gardens and the enormous effort to bring them back to their former glory began. And glorious they are! Rhododendrons whose seeds came from India (ENORMOUS!!), a handkerchief tree, a Jurassic maiden hair tree, artistic black tulips and other psycadellic ones, an Italian garden, flowers that look like marshmallows, a small beacon hill from the days of the armada and perfect camellias that look exactly like the the sacred flower of life, hundreds of bluebells, charcoal burning pits, the biggest veggie patch ever and a jungle area with ginormous rhubarb from Brazil. It really is all quite stunning. All quite easy to forget you have, I guess. Tut, tut, Tremayne family!
Next it was off to Falmouth. Not the best of names and probably not the best looking little town from the High St, but viewed from its little harbour, you get taken back to a day of rogue sailors and the ladies who entertained them. I bet those old little pubs by the port could tell a tale or two. It was here that I decided I should at least try a Cornish pasty. Silly me thought that a “traditional” pasty was just vegetables. Not so, as I discovered as I bit into it and found meat. Into the bin with that then. Shame. The pasty was invented to proved a hearty meal for the miners. Easy to carry it down into the mines and the think crust on the edge was perfect to hold the pasty with dirty hands. You could eat the tasty middle and throw the crust away.
It was then off to the most southerly point in the UK and my favourite stop to date….Lizard Point. Arriving in the little village after squeezing along bluebell lined lanes is a bit like stepping back in time. The villagers have worked hard to stop it becoming a tacky tourist stop. The coastline here is rugged and spectacular. The place has seen many a shipwreck. Actually, the whole of Cornwall has to be honest. I saw a map of all the shipwrecks along the peninsula and there are literally 100s. Camped at the queerest but most delightful little spot tonight and despite perfect clear skies and a super afternoon, it was cold! A long sleeve top, thermal top, thin fleece, thick fleece, hat, gloves, sleeping bag and STILL cold. I’m beginning to think that the boys at work were right and that there really is something wrong with me!!
About Rebecca
Rebecca’s life is one big Walkabout, experiencing external and internal journeys as they make themselves known to her. She aims to inspire others to do the same. Her base camp is in Sydney, Australia where she’ll usually be found on the back of a horse.
