In Search of the Beast of Bodmin

This summer, in marked contrast to last year, I have absolutely nothing I have to be doing. This pleasant fact means that should I so wish, I can go visit places. I had always been curious to see the house and surroundings of my good friend and coursemate Peter, as he lives in a tiny hamlet-ette on the Northwest coast of Cornwall. I and my colleagues had in fact got remarkably close two years before when we visited the nearby town of Bude on a geology field trip, therefore you can see that he was clearly located in a prime visiting area. Add to this the fact that instead of tolerating geological incursions Peter would actually instigate them, and you have all the ingredients for a trip to England's distant southern pointy bit.

I was not disappointed. Schloss Peter is a tasty haven of homemade lemon curd and honey, plus also homemade pottery. I even got a whole guest bedroom/ caravan to myself! This holiday was a chance to do some tourism in my own country for once. After all, the scenery in the Alps and Vienna is very impressive, but how can I appreciate that if I ignore my country in the meantime? Basically we spent the four days I was there wandering around the area, strolling up and down the (excessively in my opinion) rolling hills and valleys that lie above the precipitous and very geologically impressive cliffs, or wandering along the many long beaches. That's not something you get to do if you visit a friend in a more urban environment, and makes a pleasant change.

My dad recommended we check out the village of Morwenstow, only a few miles away from the house. There you can find the smallest National Trust owned property in the country, Hawker's Hut. This tiny wooden construction facing out to sea was the favoured sitting place of the eccentric but fascinating Reverend Hawker of Morwenstow, parish priest, supposed inventor of the harvest festival, poet and determined burier of washed up mariners, among other fascinating things. The remains of over 40 unknown sailors lie buried under a figurehead in the churchyard.

Another day I got sunburnt exploring Bodmin Moor. This is basically like a mini Dartmoor or Exmoor, identical in feel and appearance due to the fact that all 3 are located on exposed lumps of basically the same vast mass of rock that underlies the Cornish peninsula, most of the reason why it even sticks up out of the sea in the first place. It was a beautiful day, as I hope my pictures can convey slightly. Lots of the abandoned remnants of past inhabitants and complex granite block scenery that make the high granite moors such fascinating places.

On my last day, after marvelling at the tortured structures in the rocks around Bude harbour, I was able to squeeze in a delicious pasty before making the arduous journey home. I remember we once tried to explain what a pasty was to someone who had never seen one. Our best shot was to describe it as 'like a sort of folded in half pie'. So yeah, if you've not eaten a pasty/pastie, you should do! It's way better than my feeble attempts at description might lead you to believe.

Der Tom