Cornwall Matters

This is the second part of my recollections of my first encounter with Cornwall. You can read the first part here.

I turn to walk towards the lighthouse, calling to me from its rock amidst the bluest sea I have ever seen. Its distance strikes me as a treat rather than an inconvenience: more time to enjoy the beautiful journey along a path of pale, shifting sand snaking between the towans’ undulating coastal grasses.

Two scruffy traffic cones warn walkers away from subsiding ground, telling the tale of our ever-changing coastline, but they are quickly passed and the modern world slips away again. I push past thickets of wild carrot flowers amongst the grasses; gatherings of red clover; a very handsome six-spot burnet moth perched atop canary yellow Spathulate Fleawort; a fluffy bee clinging onto a burst of wind-blown, pink-tinged wild carrot as if for dear life. Because Cornwall doesn’t just give you sea, sand and sky; it also gives you an abundance of nature that lifts the spirits and calms the soul.

Continue reading “To the Lighthouse” →

A five hour drive from London, luggage thrown into a hotel room, and I jump back in my car and head for the sea that has been beckoning to me increasingly insistently as I’ve traversed the rolling hills of the A30 and seen the promise of expansive blue sky to my right. Some baffling road layouts successfully negotiated, and I follow a road that becomes increasingly coastal. I pass a caravan park and glimpse sand dunes and my excitement kicks up a notch. For someone with a dedicated penchant for planning ahead when leaving the house, I have only a vague idea of where I’m going. But I come to a turn-off which clearly heads towards the sea, with a promising sign – “Gwithian Towans” – helpfully accompanied by the big “P” indicating parking.