Day #7
Leaving Islington
Time to up and move again. This is the downside of travelling, having to drag suitcases around. Amy's suitcase weighs nearly 30kg and I have had to carry that up several flights of stairs at various times (expect me to come back to Australia in a wheelchair ;). We walk down to the nearest "Royal Post" (equivalent to Australia Post) and Amy mails off more gear (holidays are a constant struggle between accumulating stuff and mailing it back). When we unload at the Post Office I am amazed at how much we were carrying, the bags fill half the office! (For any of you who remember the movie "Labyrinth", I am starting to feel like the old lady who carried all the stuff in that). Amy sends 3 large parcels home and we leave. We decide (because it is 11am and getting dangerously late for the train [to cornwall] trip) to get a london cab to Paddington Station.
London Cab
The London cab was uneventful enough, except that when we mentioned we were from Australia he told us a story about an Aussie girl who got in his cab and when he asked her if she had visited Trafalgar Square, she replied "Whats that?". He mentioned Battle of Trafalgar and Lord Nelson, and she said that she had never heard of them. He asked "don’t they teach you history down there?", she replied "Yeh, but only Australian history". He said "yeh, but we know who Ned Kelly is". Suffice to say he had a low opinion of Aussie education.
I would recommend any Aussie who goes to England at least get a basic understanding of their history, so that we don’t look dumb.
Paddington Station
This station is a huge "hangar" type place (looks circa 1900 built) with about 12+ platforms. The trains look like your typical high speed "stream-lined" trains. At least I will get to sit down for the better part of today instead of having to walk around all day (what a sad public servant I am ;)
The "First Western" Train
We were told that we could sit anywhere we want except first class. Oh and (as they failed to mention) anywhere (which is 90% of the train) with a reserved tag on the seat. This caused us to get separated from our luggage (they were in luggage racks - I was not about to lug them up half the train) but as Amy joked to one of the people that booted us out of a reserved seat (and then explained how the process worked), "anyone who wanted to steal our luggage would be getting a whole bunch of dirty laundry".
We finally found a "non-reserved" seat and then settled in for the ride to Cornwall. I cant remember the all stations we went through (Reading, Exeter, Plymouth, Truro etc). The countryside is beautiful. The English villages are very cute. At one stage we passed through a forest that made me feel like getting out and running through them calling "Arthur!" (and maybe even get a visit from Merlin).
As we were approaching Plymouth, we met a guy who helped us with directions and we told him we were going to Mousehole (pron. Mowzil - Mow sounds like Wow or ow). Amy said that we were going to visit the Mousehole Cat and he thought that this was hilarious. She also said that she had heard that they had the best fish & chips in Cornwall, he said "no, ours are very average" (not a good sales pitch - but at least honest). He said that we surprised him, as we were not "as brash as most Australians" (I am starting to get the distinct impression that we have a bad reputation over here).
We eventually changed at Plymouth and then ended up on a train that was packed full of people. We had to stand (most of the way) with our luggage. It was at this point that I saw the downside of wheels on luggage.
Truro
We finally arrived at Truro, and got a cab to the "Avis" car rental place. The cabs here look pretty much like Aussie cabs. He drove us through town to get there (I was hoping that I didn’t have to come back this way - I was never going to remember the twists and turns). At the car hire place, they asked for my licence (when I asked if they needed my international licence, they said "no, the Australian licence will be fine". Why did I bother getting the international one? Oh well, better to be safe than sorry). They give me directions to Mousehole, the keys to the car (a Peugot for you car people), and we left.
Driving
Here is my tip to first-time drivers in Britain, drive when it is about to rain. Why? Because the indicators stick is on the left and the windscreen wipers stick is on the right (opposite to Australia - well at least this car is opposite to my car) and every intersection we came to I kept putting the windscreen wipers on. Eventually after the 15th or 16th time I started getting the hang of it. My only hope is that I don’t go back to Australia and have to relearn all over again. The speed gauge is in miles too, so I kept thinking 50 was too slow and wondering if I should speed up. The only other weird thing was the funny arrows that crossed over the dotted line in the centre of the road (I later learnt that this means that overtaking cars must cross back into the left lane immediately as the dotted line is about to become a solid one). They also had a speed sign that was a blue circle with a red cross through it. I thought this meant "No speed limit" (I also later learnt this meant "retain previous posted speed limit" - oh well no more 200km jaunts down the road - I KID I KID ;)
Mousehole (pron. Mowzil - Mow sounds like Wow or ow)
Eventually we arrived at Mousehole (after travelling through Penzance - a place famous for its Pirates and that musical). It is a beautiful village (it might be called Mousehole, but a hole it aint). It has very narrow lanes (it pays for you to note "wide" spots as you drive down the lanes as you may have to reverse up to that point when confronted by another car). It in on bluffs overlooking the ocean, with a stone barracade (quay?) that has been converted into a car park. There are cats everywhere (so Amy is in love), and they own this place. There also noisy seagulls everywhere, and I think this place is a perpetual battleground between the seagulls and the cats (although I think the seagulls are winning).
Kolossi Cottage
We arrive at the place that we are staying at, and it is gorgeous. It is a cozy stone place but has all the mod-cons (heaters all over the place, washer/dryer, kitchen, bath, tv/video, cd-player, fresh towels, milk & coffee etc). It is a double-level place with the bedrooms upstairs and also leads to a back courtyard shared by several houses. It is freshly painted/varnished/stained with new fittings and in top-notch condition.
I think I could get bored with this town very quickly (1 or 2 decades).
Ship Inn
After freshening up we head down to a pub called the "Ship Inn" for some dinner. We have a hot dinner here and a pint of Cornish Ale and then run into the guy from the train (and his wife) and have a quick chat (this is where I learnt about the road-signs etc). It is lively here but I am still feeling ill, and we head home to sleep (it is about 9pm anyway).
Sleep
Time for bed. One thing about this place is that it is beautiful but the people are experts with tourists. I would guess that tourism is their main income now and they "preserve" the local culture but also add lots of things (like clear, detailed street signs and renovated houses) for the maximum benefit of the tourist. I wonder how much different this place would look if tourists weren't here.
It is very peaceful here (the most noisy part is the seagulls). If you are an action junkie don’t bother coming here, but if you want somewhere to get "away from it all" then this is the place for you. Having said that, there are tonnes of tourist attractions around this area (notably the Seal Sanctuary, Tin Mines, Cornish Caves, Castles etc).
Personally, after the hustle of London, I am just enjoying the peace of this place. I cannot do this place justice by talking about so I hope the photos explain it better.
(P.S. We have thousands of photos but the last internet café I went to was uploading them at about 1 per minute so I gave up for the time being)
