after a bit of a broken sleep on that first night (no thanks to rudy the cat and a slightly creaky bed frame), we rallied our better judgement, and even left the cottage before 10am. an achievement if you've met any of us girls, and well mark is just... a boy. with a quarter of a tank of petrol at our disposal, our first port (pun) of call was to be padstow on the north coast, although when we arrived, none of us could even remember why we'd come.
save for pasties, of course. where there's a will, there's a way, and if that first street we came upon was anything to go by, pasties would feature heavily over the weekend. three shops in a line, each named something like "padstow pasties" "pasty parlour" "pastry meats parsley", we stopped in at the last of the three (possibly not actually named any of the above), and chose our poisons. mine was a pastel de natas, because every single type of pasty available had onion in it, and i was saving death for something creamier, like... clotted cream, or something like that. the others indulged though, and if the sounds omitted from their faces were anything to go by, the pasties were well received.
the weather was balls; the winds were strong, there was water in the air, and it was super grey overhead. this was not quite the summer holiday we'd envisioned, but resilient as we are, we powered on - not ones to let our adventures be dampened (pun) by something as silly as the weather. we walked the coastal path, pleased to have finally found a sandy beach (damn you pebbles!), displeased that there appeared to be no way to reach it from up high. eventually we came upon a path that lead to a very sheer and rocky path that seemed to be headed down. we took our chances, and eventually landed on the beach. hurrah for beaches! getting back up to the path was a whole 'nother thing, but again - we like a challenge (less so nat, who usually falls over at the idea), and there was a lush reward in it for all of us...
done with padstow, we soldiered on, bound for mark's first "must have" town of the weekend; port isaac. apparently there's a show he likes that's filmed there, so we walked around for a while and let him point at things excitedly and tell us in which episode doc so-and-so went to this pub or that shop and whose father lived in that house boat. he loved it. we just ate clotted cream and salted caramel fudge, and nodded along in earnest, trying to keep up with his stories.
done with wandering the small town's back (and sunken) alleys, we stopped in at the local pub for lunch. we'd been on the go for a solid few hours, and were absolutely due a break. there, the others dined on seaside classics like fish and chips and fish pie - me though, well i went for the cream tea. it was one of many things i was decided on about my part in this particular holiday; if there'd the option of a cream tea, the cream tea it shall be. and so it was, and it was good.
done with wandering the small town's back (and sunken) alleys, we stopped in at the local pub for lunch. we'd been on the go for a solid few hours, and were absolutely due a break. there, the others dined on seaside classics like fish and chips and fish pie - me though, well i went for the cream tea. it was one of many things i was decided on about my part in this particular holiday; if there'd the option of a cream tea, the cream tea it shall be. and so it was, and it was good.
(and it was jam first, because that's how you're *supposed* to do it!)
