Hi Everyone,
today is grey and threatening rain so I'm posting an account of a sunny day some years ago in Cornwall to cheer me up and you too of course.
Later today I'm meeting with some writers who are launching their blogsite Out on a Limb today which know is a great read.
August 2006
The Cove
The last time I went camping with my family was in 2006. I’ve done it before many times and still enjoy it. In all there were fourteen of us in four tents.
After much discussion we had decided to camp at Sennen near Land’s End and arrived on the fifth of August for what was to prove the best weather that August.
On one typical day we found a secluded beach at the bottom of some steep cliffs, the beach we had hoped to go to was packed, so we had followed a car down a steep winding single-track road. And ended up parking in some tail end farm pasture for a couple of pounds.
The sandy beach was small but quite delightful, set between cragged rocks that had a tunnel carved out leading to another more rocky beach.
This beach had already been discovered by other people who had found this little haven. And the little bay was gay with children splashing in the shallow water wearing brightly coloured costumes. Nevertheless we found a suitable spot and set up camp for the day.
I was guard, looking after the clothes and bags. And sitting in my chair with my large umbrella shielding me from the bright hot sunshine I attempted to draw and sketch but more often or not one of the grandchildren would bring me a treasure they had found on the beach or in the rock pools , and I would spend the time marvelling at them. By the end of the day I had a large collection of shells and pebbles that the children insisted I kept.
The rest of the older children and some of the adults went snorkelling delighting in viewing the bass and mackerel chasing sand eels. Brian tried to catch some fish from the inflatable rowing dinghy, which had earlier been a big hit with the children.
The one annoying thing I find about the sea are the tides, they do insist on turning just as you are quite settled, the waves which only half an hour ago was quite some quarter of a mile away, are suddenly lapping at your feet. And the comical ritual of gradually moving up the beach is taken in stages as if no one can believe that the sea can come any higher. No sooner has everyone got themselves settled, when another lick of water pushes up the beach until the last vestige of golden sand has been reclaimed by the sea and we poor mortals were left stranded at high water on the rocks. As far as I could see nobody actually packed up and left the bay and by two o'clock about a hundred or so people were strewed on the rocks just like so many seals. Everyone waiting for the tide to turn again so that the younger children could resume the building of sandcastles or hunting in the rock-pools.
True campers as we are, all our meals were cooked el fresco. A Time honoured menus of burgers; beans, bacon and eggs served on huge burger buns and washed down with tea or cider. Today was no exception. Later on the smoky barbecue on the beach in late evening was a must or else the whole expedition wouldn’t have been worth the trip. But no matter how hard we tried to ensure that the barbecue was in a sheltered spot a wind would come from nowhere and we would be wreathed in smoke. The coals would either be far to slow and nothing cooked quickly or burnt so fast that the chicken legs and sausage resembled burnt offerings. Quite a few were offered to the gods who came in the form of seagulls.
Then after watching the red coal sunset fade into indigo and the division between sky and sea blurred, tired we trundled our way back to camp. There we soothed our skins with after Sun lotion and gossiped for awhile before turning in. Hoping that tomorrow we would find another lovely spot to enjoy.
By the end of the day a smattering of rain heralded a wet night and I fell asleep with the nylon canvas of the tent flexing and the pitter-patter of rain drumming above me.