Falmouth (Day 3)

Late morning we left marge in the company of the few vans staying another night, and walked the mile to Gyllyngvase beach where we met with our friends Trudy and Andrew who live nearby. The bright blue sky smudged by a few clouds of cotton hung above a clear turquoise sea.

We had not seen our friends for well over a year so we had plenty to talk about as we sat at a picnic table on the beach. After a couple of hot drinks, we moved into the nearby park where it was less crowded and ate the delicious pasties that Andrew had made for our lunch. After much catching up we returned to the beach for an ice cream. The afternoon passed by quickly and before we knew it, it was time to say our farewells.

As we walked back along the seafront past the infamous 42 steps, we stopped to look around Gyllyngdune gardens opened in 1907.

A little bit of the exotic mixed with shell seating areas and a shell cave which houses unusual shells thought to have arrived on ships from the west indies on which they were used as ballast.

Back at Marge, who bathed in the early evening sunshine we reflected on the day. After a shower and spag bol, we took a walk out just before nine o' clock to view the last of the sunset over Falmouth, which outlined the billowing clouds that darkened in the fading light.

Across the water the St. Anthony's lighthouse on the eastern side of Falmouth harbour flashed its warning.

We are enjoying our time here and will probably stay another day.

Falmouth

We were awoken this morning by the voices of the birds. John found a felled tree in the morning sun, where he sat in the idyllic surroundings beside the tumbling waters of the river. Nearby, a cat black as ebony, picked its way silently through the long grass.

On the ground John discovered a large blister or oil beetle, quite a rare insect now unfortunately, of the eight species in the UK three are already extinct. To get a better shot Angela was tasked with the job of holding out a stick with the beatles on it for a photograph.

All well and good until it moved. Near to Marge, wild garlic grew, and John picked some to add to his morning omelette.

Housework done, and waste water emptied we fired up Marge.

At the farm gate, a group of lambs in a pen jostled to bid us farewell.

Our destination, and possible stopover was Pendower Beach in the heart of the Roseland peninsula. We arrived just after midday. quickly parked up Marge and set off to explore this area of outstanding natural beauty.

The sun lit the headland, and the puffed-up clouds billowing in the sky cast shadows over the beach. We skimmed some flat shiny grey stones, smoothed by the movement of the sea, across the flat water.

Then walked across the rocks, laid bare by the low tide, looking in to rock pools and crevices.

Above us we could see Marge parked precariously. No funny business Marge please, it's a long drop down! By the time we returned to have our lunch the sun was high in the sky lighting the sea and coastline. We could see right across the bay to Portscatho. We had the best seat in the house. Before leaving, John picked some 'wild' spring onions growing in front of Marge (not sure who had planted those) for us to add to our stir fry this evening.

Deciding to stay overnight in Falmouth we journeyed past St. Austell passing the 'Cornish Alps', also known as the china clay spoil tips. The road was fast and uphill, poor old Marge she was really put to the test today. Now she is glad to be parked in the car park of Pendennis Castle, with a few buddies. She has a glimpse of a sea view through the hedgerow.

Leaving her to rest, we walked to Pendennis Point where we sat and watched some men fishing for mackerel whilst we took in the view towards St. Mawes and along the coast. Taking the 'Gold Path' back to the van through the wooded area, we were surprised how many bluebells were still in flower. The path ended right by the entrance to the castle, the last few feet being almost vertical, and hard to navigate. Now we knew how Marge felt.

If it is quiet here tonight, we may stay again tomorrow, as being a bank holiday weekend the roads will probably be busy around these parts and we would quite like an easier day ourselves, something we know Marge would agree with.

Pillaton, nr: Saltash

Before we left Exmouth this morning, we walked along the Queens Drive and down on to the beach passing beneath the red sandstone cliffs to Orcombe point.

From there we then took the south west coast path back towards the seafront.

We stopped to sit for a while looking out across the grey blue sea where in the distance, we could see four cruise liners at anchor. The sun shone brightly, lighting the red sand on the beach below.

Before leaving Exmouth a stop at Tesco and then on to Exeter to buy a camping gaz cylinder. All set, we headed towards Cornwall along the Devon Expressway. The road cut a thick slice through carpets of green and fields of corduroy, and Marge powered up the many long inclines with gusto.

Crossing the Tamar bridge, we knew we would soon be travelling on a typical narrow Cornish road, thankfully ours had plenty of passing places. Our destination was Bush Farm Wild Camping, 200 acres of Cornish countryside, and only four of us staying here.

We found a lovely spot by the river, signed as No Man's Land.

Today has been a good day. Marge dosed up on WD40 has not let us down and we've found a nice site where we can fill up with water and empty our toilet, which is always a concern. John is in his element, lighting a wood fire to cook on whilst Angela got on with the fun job of washing the smalls!

As the sun slipped away this evening, we could hear a woodpecker drilling, the river running and the sheep in the nearby field talking. Last night a couple with a converted ambulance had the inscription, 'follow your dreams, they know the way' on their door' Made sense to us. We are more than happy to live this life.

These are going into my breakfast omelette says John who loves foraged herbs, wild garlic in this case.

Exmouth

The rain arrived in the early hours of this morning, the first since we can't remember when. By the time we left Lyme Regis it had already passed through, and the sun fought with the cloud to break through. Just a short trip for Marge today to Exmouth, gateway to the Jurassic coast. Marge coped well, easily plateauing the tops of the hills. She seemed comfortable all the way and is now settled in an allocated motorhome spot with a sea view.

We are very happy with this spot, the car park will be secured from eight o' clock tonight so there's no risk of any boy racers arriving, or the idiot we had turn at 10.30 pm last night revving his motorbike engine.

At lunchtime, although the wind blew cold, we walked along the seafront to the marina and in to the town to buy some lunch and more WD40, our secret weapon we 'think' to easing Marge's ills. Then a trip to the bank for more cash to cover our overnight parking fees.

We walked back through Manor Gardens where we stopped to watch the squirrels raking over the ground in search for food before running to a couple who fed them nuts from their hands.

Back at Marge, who is sharing the parking area with a covid test/vaccination centre a lorry arrived to empty the porta loos on site. 'Hey mate, have you got room for a little one?' More vans have arrived during the afternoon, and the area has become reminiscent of a French aire. Hopefully it wont be too long now before we can return to France.

Meanwhile we study our map and guide books, both windows into our adventure.