Got the DT’s over here; I don’t mean the delirium tremens I mean the Donald Trumps! Old Donny’s arrival coupled with the semi-final loss and Brave Sir Roger’s capitulation at the Championships has sent this country back to the Dark Ages! Mercifully Julie has arrived which has opened up some of the more far-reaching free houses that aren’t within easy walking distance. The downside is the new austerity measures which came into force immediately upon arrival (luckily my foresight had allowed me to build a war chest to call upon in desperate moments).
So, the south west adventure is over for the boys and I. Because I’ve been told to cut back on the syphilitic ramblings and make this a more legible travel blog here are some of the places everyone in the world should see in the weather in which we saw them:
Penzance town– a camp pirate romp best enjoyed from the confines of the Admiral Benbow.
Lands End – if you get there early to avoid the masses this otherwise nuffy haunt is a treasure trove of amazing coast line, small coves and scenery.
St Ives – use the picturesque coastal branch line to get there (driving along the lanes is just silly); the rich and shameless gather here in the cafes and shops but if you swim in the beach, walk the trails and find the Golden Lion (beer) you will largely pass this shallowness by.
St Micheal’s Mount – an historic family castle (though old Johnny St Aubyn wasn’t there to receive me as he’d tootled off to the south of France).
Lizard point – simply fantastic coastal walking; and by walking to Kynance Cove you avoid the Chadstone-like car park and associated lazy continentals.
Lyme Regis – Lorne with substance but without the waves; history meets…well nothing really, it’s just a charming seaside town lost in time.
Beer – the name says it all!
Jurassic coast – wonderful coastal walking and scenery (again, you can largely avoid the riffraff by doing some exercise, which is a complete anathema to the middle-aged English).
The reunion!
Found the boys and since the arrival of the driver we have been to Stonehenge (simply, get there early), Cheddar Gorge (yes, the home of the cheese of same name) and the Roman Baths (felt like I was in an Asterix book – do it in the evening), all of which were thoroughly enjoyable, and for fear of sounding like a tourist, well worth the visit. Also visited the slightly floggy Cotswolds village of Bourton-on-the-water (where Asian tourists, refer below, mingle with upper crust British establishment in a melting pot of Sino-Anglo tension not seen since the Boxer Rebellion).
Speaking of tourists think the dynamic works something like this:
Tourist = Bucket lister
Traveller = Explorer/person capable of absorbing the significance or beauty of something visited.
Apropos of this: no one likes German or French tourists!
Difficult to say where we fit in – perhaps a third category “travellist” or “toureveller”. Either way, still having a ball and in constant need of pinching myself to remind me we are some 17,000 kilometres from home.
A little brief perhaps my friend.
Me, I enjoy your syphilitic ramblings.
As for German tourist – befriend some and, if one is to think in a mercenary fashion, a whole new world of free accommodation and world-class tour-guides open in the country that will ruin your beer-tasting experience for the rest of your life – every other beer on the planet tastes like piss-water in comparison to the golden nectar produced by der Krauts.