A Day in Cornwall

As I was going to St. Ives…

No, we’re not getting into that argument. Having arrived in Penzance on the overnight sleeper train I had all day to explore a bit of West Cornwall and 5 hours before I could check into the Western Hotel in St. Ives. My plan was first to take a walk along the coast to the picturesque harbour village of Mousehole via the fishing port of Newlyn. It’s a pleasant 3.6 mile stroll. At least it would be in nice weather. Unfortunately this morning the weather wasn’t nice. Grey skies emitted a fine drizzle into a light breeze making it just wet enough to need a waterproof coat while at the same time being warm enough to make wearing a waterproof coat uncomfortable. I set off trying to convince myself that it would brighten up imminently.

Organic Maps routed me out of Penzance centre via back roads and alleyways which at least kept away from any traffic before returning to the coast where the Larrigan River meets the sea, near a desolate looking and weed filled Mennaye Boating Lake. From here I walked along the causeway above the beach to the outskirts of Newlyn and passed the fishermen’s memorial statue “Throw Me A Line”.

Newlyn is a working fishing port and has more wet fish shops than I’ve ever seen in one town centre. It hadn’t brightened up yet. I climbed out of Newlyn via Fore Street which at least afforded a good view of the busy harbour, the many boats injecting the only colours into the scene.

This walk follows the route of the South West Coast Path long distance trail and for a while diverts from the motor road along a foot and cycle path next to the sea below the cliff. At the entrance to which I was nearly hit from behind by a lycra-clad bell-end-on-a-bike determined to get through the entry point before me. There are probably some good views along here but they were hidden behind the worsening drizzle on this morning. Thankfully at least some philosopher with a ladder and a pot of yellow paint had been out to brighten up the scene 😀

The path climbed up and rejoined the clifftop road with fine views along the coast and I could even see St. Michael’s Mount in the distance. When I say see it I mean there was a slightly darker shade of grey where it was located. See if you can spot it 🔍

Past Penlee’s disused Lifeboat Station the drizzle eased off a little so I could clearly see St. Clement’s Isle and intermittently unzip my coat to cool off a little on the way down into Mousehole, which I reached at about a quarter past ten.

"Mouseholians" it seems are not early risers. The only places open at that time of the morning were an upmarket looking restaurant and a twee tea room, the latter was full. This despite the fact that the village was busy with visitors most of whom had had the good sense not to walk there. At least the drizzle had stopped so I could take off my coat and steam gently by the harbour. I had a mooch about the village, laughed at what I assume was a joke about Mousehole property prices (the blackboard against the lean-to building reads "Compact + Bijou Home with lots of potential. Offers over £100k")

and joined the queue for the bus back to Penzance.

The M6 bus between Mousehole and Penzance runs every twenty minutes during the day. It was not a pleasant experience because they use vehicles not much bigger than a mini-bus with seat spacing that appears to be designed only to accommodate children so I was jammed sideways into a seat on the back row. The bus was almost full leaving Mousehole and picked up more passengers on the way resulting in some juggling of people, seats, and baby-buggies along the way. I was hot, damp, and the windows didn’t open. Even the little old lady next to me remarked on how unsuitable the vehicle was though she said occasionally they go completely to the other extreme and you get a double-decker. Which must be very interesting when they have to turn it round in the centre of Mousehole. I was relieved to get off that bus in Penzance Bus Station I can tell you. I went and found a bakery and had a very large coffee and a sit down. Then since breakfast had been 5 hours ago I went hunting, I got a large Cornish Pasty because when you are in the county why wouldn’t you? This I took to the railway station platform and ate it while waiting for my next train. A big yellow thing started to appear in the sky and a big feathery greedy bastard appeared on the platform nearby. The sun was welcome, the seagull could bugger off. Also it is still a mystery to me how they get Cornish pasties so hot and how they appear to get hotter while you’re carrying them so that when you come to eat it it’s like biting into a volcano? It was a very nice pasty though - the very antithesis of a Ginster’s 😁

As I arrived at Penzance station so did one of GWR’s Intercity 125 HST “Castle” trains. These are soon to be retired and I can remember them when they were first introduced on BR’s Western Region in the 1970s. I was tempted to skip a departure to have a brief ride on it to St. Erth for old times sake. In the end I got the next boring Hitachi IET instead which gave a shorter wait for the St. Ives train at St. Erth.

I was glad to see that summer time four coach train arrive into the crowded platform at St. Erth (outside the summer there are only two coaches). Anxious to get a good seat I forgot that the views were on the right hand side and indeed that side of the train quickly filled up with people, although not the polygamous, sack of cats carrying kind. Anyway, as we rode down the branch line the weather finally improved and we arrived at St. Ives in bright sunshine.

St. Ives was very busy. I walked from the station to the harbour and from the harbour to the Western Hotel, located in the town centre. What can I say about the Western Hotel? Here’s the review that I posted on booking.com which I think sums it up:

Good location, comfortable, not cheap, not very organized.

Liked · Nice big room, comfortable bed. Good central St. Ives location.

Disliked · Arrived to check in at reception, reception is a phone on the desk. Call was answered and waited for receptionist to come and complete check in. I was handed keys and given directions to my room. On finding my room it was immediately obvious that it was already occupied by someone who was fortunately out at the time. Return to reception, call, wait, wait, wait, eventually allocated a different room and given keys. No explanation other than “the booking system made a mistake”. Inconvenience aside this error has security implications if they are giving out keys to rooms already occupied. And of course when I went for breakfast the restaurant staff had not been advised of the room change.

However the room was pleasant, overlooking the Royal Square (bus stop) outside and I was glad to have a shower after which I had a nap for a couple of hours, dunno why I was tired. Later I went for a wander around St. Ives. It was still very busy. Hmm, that’s a lot of clouds and yes, those are spots of rain.

Cue retreat to hotel with snacks and a bottle of cider. Later: there is music downstairs let’s go and investigate (and get another cider). Ah, Tuesday Night is Jazz Club Night. 

Nice 👌

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The audience demographic was pretty much exactly what you’d imagine, the band was four old white men, it was heavy on the double bass, drums and trumpet. I caught the last half hour which in jazz terms means three tunes. What’s with the applauding half way through a song? Is it a jazz thing? At ten past ten they finished and most of the audience rushed across the road, bus passes in hand. I went to my bed and slept like a log.

The next morning I rose, showered, dressed and headed downstairs for a cooked breakfast which was pretty average and preceded by a discussion about why my room number wasn’t on the breakfast list.

I checked out, by which I mean left my key on the empty reception desk as instructed, and made my way to St. Ives station in hazy, humid sunshine with just a trace of fine drizzle. There was quite a crowd on the platform awaiting the train to St. Erth. I remembered to sit on the left side for the views.

 

 At St. Erth my train to Reading appeared on time and I settled down into my seat up the front in 1st Class. What? You can’t take it with you, you know. Anyway it was only eighty quid Advance Single with a railcard, half what the trip down had cost.

The Americans appeared. They seem to be travelling with everything they own, they put all their huge suitcases in the wheelchair space, whined when told they needed to move them and complained about there not being enough space for their luggage. There was plenty of space under and between their seats. As soon as they got aboard they started stuffing their faces and wanted to know when lunch would be served - it was ten-thirty in the morning at this point. Then they started spreading out the John Lewis tote bags of food onto adjacent seats because their table was full. As the coach filled up through the journey they had to retreat and at last went quiet and disappeared into their devices. Deport them to El Salvador I say 😉

For once the rest of the journey was unremarkable and I arrived home at four in the afternoon, about 46 hours after I’d left.

Would I do the night sleeper again? Well I’ve done it, don’t regret it, don’t need to do it again. It’s always nice to visit Cornwall though, however briefly so if you’re short on time it’s worth considering finding out if you can sleep on a train.

For anyone who avoided spoilers in the previous post here’s a FlickrAlbum of photos from my trip.