I haven’t written anything about Cornwall yet. This is a huge tragedy. Due to Jake’s family having a place near Bodmin moor, we’ve popped down to Cornwall maybe five or so times this year. When I say popped down, I mean it. Last Christmas we spent five hours driving there and five hours back for only one night of West Country family time. Is it family or the prospect of pasties and clotted cream that made this appealing? Who can say? (I guess I can, as it’s my blog. It’s about even.)
As has probably been made clear already, I love the sea. Cornwall has some of the most incredible beaches I’ve ever seen and I delight in swimming in them all year round. Except for the aforementioned trip last Christmas where Jake and I had procrastinated on our plans and were now at the beach, in the pouring rain, on the 28th December. I was so sad to have missed the winter sun for that day that I was sitting in the car in a mood. Jake dragged me out, saying that once we were in the water it wouldn’t matter that it was raining or freezing.
He was wrong, of course. It did matter. We sprinted across the beach, which was full of stones that were extremely sharp on numb feet, before he dived in and then sprinted straight back out looking like someone had hit him over the head with an icicle while I stood knee-deep in the ocean, in a bikini, in the wind, shouting, “I am not enjoying this!”
We then ran back to the car where we had no towels and had turn the heating up to full blast in order to stop shivering. It was not our finest hour.
One beach that we go back to without fail is Tregardock beach. This place is incredibly beautiful but relatively unknown. Unbelievably, it’s often empty. This is a beach along a popular stretch of Cornwall’s coast and yet, there’s usually only a couple of people and the occasional dog sharing the landscape. This is because the beach can only be reached by a decent walk that ends with a climb down the rocks. If you can generally manage a mildly taxing walk with some incline and decline then you should be fine, but it clearly deters the majority of people from visiting. At high tide, the whole beach is engulfed by the ocean, so check the tides before you head out to avoid disappointment. The beach is full of mussels and, now, we pick a load of mussels each trip to take home for dinner. Insane natural scenery and free fresh seafood.
The first time I visited Tregardock, the sea was uncharacteristically flat. I started swimming out, deciding to swim until I could no longer see the bottom. This endeavour was interrupted when, during a floating break, Jake appeared next to me. “Hi. You disappeared from view and I got worried.” He watched me float serenely. “Are you okay?”
A question he asks himself regularly, I’m sure.
I was okay. I was better than okay. This place was magic.
My second visit to Tregardock was the most photogenic I’ve ever seen a real place look. It felt like being on a different planet. Not only are there the rocks and the sea but there are waterfalls and caves dotted all along the beach. I can’t really deal with this place. Every time we go to Cornwall, all I want to do is go to this beach. Much like has already happened with desserts and House MD reruns, an obsession has infiltrated my brain and I am powerless to stop it.
But why would I want to?