Despite a little light discouragement from this little furry girl, my morning and afternoon writing session has finally got me past the tricky section I have been struggling with on this novel for the past couple of weeks. I am happy to report that the first draft of Chapter 15 of Pixie-Led is finally complete. Phew (wipes sweat from brow).
Making the most of the unseasonably good weather, I took an unplanned long stroll along the beach at Ogmore-By-Sea today.
The tide was already heading in by the time I reached the beach, so I did not get the chance to explore the rockpools the place is renowned for, but the weather was pleasant enough to just sit on the rocks and chill. Though the tide was coming in at quite an incredible speed and nearly caught me out a few times:
Despite the incoming tide, there was, luckily, still enough sand to partake of one of my favourite hobbies - searching for seaglass. I use the word luckily here for a particular a particular reason as, although there was not much seaglass on the beach, what few pieces I did manage to find were beauties.
|Seaglass - Ogmore-By-Sea|
|A perfect bottle stop piece of seaglass|
I enjoyed the beach so much that I decided to stay and watch the sun go down.
It was a perfect sunset too, a brilliant end to a lovely sunny day :)
We only had one day during our week-long stay in Cornwall when the weather was really bad, and we decided to take a wander around Newquay on that afternoon. We could see the lights of the town twinkling across the bay from our holiday cottage in Mawgan Porth, so it was great to actually take a look around the place in the daylight.
Newquay turned out to be a typical seaside touristy town and the poor weather stopped us exploring the place in too much detail. The highlight of our visit there though was a little fishmonger shop that had a display case of shells that were for sale. Within the glass display cabinet was this beauty, a decent sized Nautilus shell.
|Nautilus Shell, purchased from a Newquay fishmonger|
I was nervous of it smashing during the long drive home and was relieved to see it still in one piece when I unwrapped it upon my return. Here it is now, safe and sound on my bathroom windowsill:
|My bathroom windowsill set up|
It was with a somewhat heavy heart that I bade farewell to Cornwall. It truly is a magical place and I wish I could have spent a lot longer exploring its coastline, its ancient sites as well as its folklore. I ended my holiday with a brief lunch at what is, without a doubt, Cornwall's most famous pub - the Jamaica Inn, made famous in Daphne du Maurier's classic novel that was named after the inn.
|The Jamaica Inn Pub Sign|
|Lunch with Du Maurier' characters in the Jamaican Inn|
...Leaving The Hurler Stones, a moderate walk leads across Bodmin Moor to the Cheesewring, seen below in the first pic on the horizon behind the entrance to Daniel Gumb's Cave. It is difficult to believe, but this is actually a tiny constructed house, built by Daniel Gumb to accomodate himself, his wife and his half a dozen children! His decision to live out on the wilds of Bodmin Moor and with such limited public utilities and conveniences was apparently made to avoid paying taxes.
|Daniel Gumb's Cave and the Cheesewring|
|The 20 foot tall Cheesewring|
|The stones neighbouring the Cheesewring are also impressive|
Like all the places I visited in Cornwall on this holiday, I cannot recommend visiting this remarkable site highly enough.
Heading home from my stay in Corning, I stopped off on Bodmin Moor to visit a couple of intriguing sites. The first of which was this triple ring formation of standing stones, known as The Hurler Stones.
|The Hurler Stones, with ruins of old tin mine in the background|
|Horse Grazing at The Hurler Stones, Bodmin Moor|
The Hurler Stones earned their names from the legend that they were once men who caught playing Cornish Hurling on a Sunday. For their 'crime', each was turned magically to stone!
To the edge of the stone circles, stand two further megaliths, known as The Piper Stones (pictured below). These, according to folklore, were once pipers who were caught playing their musical instruments on the moor on a Sunday and befell the same fate as the hurlers!
|The Pipers, with Sheep|
My next stop on Bodwin Moor appears on the horizon behind the Hurler Stones - the fantastic Cheesewring. It is a moderate and easy walk, with enough of an incline to gently raise your heartrate as you reach the summit. But it is the scenery of the Cheesering that truly takes your breath away...
Tintagel Castle is steeped in folklore. It is said to be the birthplace of the legendary King Arthur, as well as the site where he was infamously conceived. From Tintagel village, a well-kept path leads down steeply to the coast and the steps up to the castle. Often though, the least trod paths are the most picturesque and I found this far more scenic route located very close to the main tourist route:
|The more scenic route to the coast of and castle of Tintagel|
Unable to explore the castle, the beach or the legendary Merlin's cave, which is located beneath the castle, I sat back on the coastal clifftop and used the opportunity to relax and just soak up the atmosphere of this truly unique part of the Cornish coastline. :)
|Feet up, it's time to soak up and enjoy the Cornish sunshine|
Energised after my walk through St. Nectan's Glen, I took advantage of the hour or so of light that still remained to the day by continuing my walk down along the Trivillet River through an area of woodland known as Rocky Valley.
Like St. Nectan's Glen, Rocky Valley is charged with a feeling of magic and the woodland is abrim with votive offerings, dressed wishing trees and evidence of spellcraft.
Rocky Valley is best known for its two labyrinth carvings and it is around this site that most of the evidence of spiritual activity within the woods is found. The carvings themselves, though relatively small, are easily found and are quite a sight to behold. Their prehistoric heritage, however, is arguable, with scholars divided about dating the carvings to the Bronze Age. The fact that they appear on quarried walls has led other experts to date them as no more than 300 years old.
Heading back to the car, I bumped into an American tourist who was as equally taken to the locale as myself. "Wow!" She said, as she reached the labyrinths. "This whole place is like something out of Tolkien's Lord of the Rings." I could not have agreed more.