Battleaxe is doing two posts: this first one will be about our annual week-long trip with our old friends from Birmingham, Sue and Alex and Sue and Graham. The second one will be about revisiting Boscastle with Philosopher. We had to move from Penzance to a different house this year, the Captain’s House in Marazion, right by the sea, with panoramic views across to St Michael’s Mount. It is a very classy place – it features in this article in the Daily Mail, from June 2024. Lots of photos of the house in the article. Battleaxe didn’t like the thought of resting her head on the same pillows as used by Daily Mail readers, but still. (Actually, I didn’t have to. I always take my own pillow on holiday. How nerdy is that. Even took it to Turkey!)
Here is St Michael’s Mount from the house. This year, Philosopher and I were lucky enough to have the ‘master suite’ with amazing views across to the island and around the bay. I had taken my laptop, with the idea that I could sit looking out at the view whilst being incredibly creative. Here is the view from the room on the evening we arrived. Over the week I did a lot of looking out, but not much creating.
We drove down, as usual, via Lyme Regis, and a night with our old friend Karol. Sunny picnic lunch in the New Forest, with curious ponies.
The Marazion house was very comfortable and well-equipped, but a bit bare. Pale grey walls, pale grey floors, grey kitchen. Obviously a rental house, not a home. Bed very comfortable, bathroom lovely, heating efficient, sofas comfy, spotlessly clean. But in the kitchen, it had the most evilly complicated induction hob and two high-tech ovens that we could barely figure out how to use. The hob was the invention of the devil. I cannot understand why anyone would want one. Good thing none of us oldies had a pacemaker – they are supposed to go beserk in the vicinity of induction thingees.
Marazion has a few pubs and caffs, lots of galleries and crafty shops, a charity shop, a pasty shop and a general store, but not a lot else – even the chippie wasn’t yet open for the season.
The weather was dry for 6 days out of seven, but only patchy sun. We have been doing these Cornwall holidays for so long that many of our activities are determined by habit and ritual, with photo-calls at set places. They include: revisiting Sennen Cove, where we used to stay, and then walking over to Land’s End for a coffee in the Land’s End Hotel, a trip to Treen with a walk to Penberth and a visit to the Logan Rock pub, trip to Mousehole and a walk back for Sunday lunch in Penzance, a day in St Ives, a visit to Trengwainton Gardens to admire the camellias and magnolias, with a photo-call in a particular little pavilion, Zennor and the Tinner’s Arms… the time flashes past like lightning. At least we didn’t have to do the trip to Marazion and drinks in the Godolphin – we were there already!
Here are a few pics:
Our trip to St Ives was a bit messy – endless discussion of bus times – Marazion is not as convenient for buses as Penzance. Then an exhibition at the Tate I didn’t much enjoy – Ithell Colquhoun. Until that day I had, let’s be frank, scarcely heard of her and thought she was a man… Pasty by the harbour with predatory gulls – not that they bothered us. I just gave them a glacial stare and told them we were from Hastings. That fixed ’em.
Philosopher and I also spent time pottering in Penzance, and visited our favourite Penlee Gallery. Poor Penzance is looking very run-down, but at the same time, a number of unbelievably poncey and expensive lifestyle-type shops have opened. Typified the split in our society – between the ludicrously rich and the very poor.
What else? Oddly, the causeway to St Michael’s Mount was covered with water for most of our stay – the lowest tides must have been at night. Anyway, the causeway reappeared and over we went. On the other side, despite the fact that the island was closed for the winter and they were doing noisy groundwork repairs, we met a Canadian woman and her family. She was standing on a rock, dressed in Native-American/earth mother robes, beating a drum (made from the hide of a she-buffalo) and chanting an incantation to earth-goddess Gaia to save the world from evil forces aka Trump. If I had thought for a moment that it would make a blind bit of difference I would have been up there with her. Turns out St Michael’s Mount is a very mystic place where several ley lines converge. The family were visiting other mystic places across the UK – Glastonbury Tor, Stonehenge, Lindisfarne, Avebury… and she was chanting at every place.
Our last night was a bit drastic. We went to the cinema in Penzance for a National Theatre Live filmed production of Dr Strangelove, starring Steve Coogan. Nice pizzas in the cinema caff, the production was absolutely terrible but that’s not the point. On the way back to Marazion Sue and Graham’s car broke down and they were stranded on a busy dual carriageway for hours – the AA man and the tow truck had to come from the other side of St Austell. Poor Sue and Graham had Relay service that is supposed to get you and your car back to your front door, but late at night in rural Cornwall? I don’t think so. The fact that they are both pensioners and kept on being accosted by dubious Penzance characters at the side of the road? Made no difference. They were told that it would take several days to ship the car back to Birmingham, and they had to get a taxi back to the Marazion house, and then go home on the train the next day. Sue and Graham do not travel light. Fortunately Sue and Alex were able to take some of their luggage… just as well.
We had a good week, and have booked the house for next year. The time went incredibly quickly though. A final photo:
