Food porn and lost and not found

I was told there was stuff to tell, so I should blog. When  the crowd commands…

We started with a walk to Covent Garden for last minute souvies, then decided to have breakfast at a French place on the piazza there. Final food porn:

If you wonder what this is, this is their maple French toast, made of brioche, with a caramel macaron on top (K helped with that). 

 This is K’s Eggs Royale — she said the salmon was excellent. She didn’t get a macaron garnish 😂

Then to the airport. Our cab driver was the first person we met here who claimed to like DJT. “He’s a straight shooter”. When he was reminded he didn’t know what he was doing, our driver said “oh, of course not, he proved that first term” 🙄🤷🏻‍♂️🤦🏻‍♂️

We arrived at the airport and immediately found the desk that was supposed to have my Jean jacket. I had the identifying number. The first clerk we went to, disconcertingly, had to ask her colleague two stations down what to do to find it. !!! 😡😡😡 it was a wonderful study in work dynamics, as the serving person kept rolling her eyes when asked another detail. At one point she nudged the colleague between them and made the universal “what the fuck “ sign. After fifteen minutes the second person, whose name might have been Liz, went off across the airport to another storage area. The first woman asked if we made an appointment; we said no, were we supposed to? No…

Liz came back without the jacket. 😡 she then told me she was texting the colleague who checked it in, Charley, what they did with it. Charley never answered. Twenty minutes in, Liz went back across the airport, saying she’d be back in 5. 

She was back in more like 10 — without the jacket!!! 😡😡😡

We were getting antsy abt getting to our gate.  She as much as gave up and said they’d email and pay to have it sent, since they seemed to have lost it again. 😭 the jacket seems to like London. 

I will end with some travel thoughts for those who might be making the journey soon (you know who you might be 😃)

• Cell service isn’t consistently better than it is in the States (even though you’d think in this small country, one tall tower would do 😃). This raises the issue of whether it is worth the $12/day Verizon charges for service. One act is to get a British SIM card. But almost every place has Wi-Fi (shitty or good) so you can survive without it. It’s a matter of your tolerance. 
• I’ve driven in Cornwall 3 times now. It’s rigged. There comes a point where the roads are tiny — essentially one lane. I working recommend it if you can avoid it. Sean is paying for us to have a driver next time. 
• The food here is unbelievable. OC we love in Bloomsburg where there is little choice. We had seafood, Indian, Thai, French, Italian, Scottish and probably others I’ve forgotten. It’s one of the joys of visiting, despite the centuries long complaint abt English food. 
• Be v, v careful abt hotel room size. 😂 we had a talk with another couple coming down in the elevator abt whether they knew — no!!! We discussed trying to coordinate movements, etc. 😂 our room was 97 sq ft. Their “family room” slept 4 at 110 sq ft with bunk beds 😂
• Taxi rides are expensive AF. The one to the station this morning was £25! And we went to play last night across the street from that station for £1.95. Sometimes you need the convenience, but you can rack up some charges quickly going across just central London. 
• The weather is a mystery. As the cab driver said this morning “you often get all 4 seasons in a day”. Yesterday it rained a bit, was sunny a bit, was windy a bit one day it predicted a high of 21 and we saw 16 with clouds and wind. One day went the other way. Layers is the cliched answer 😃

We are taxiing to takeoff, so this will be it. Hope you’ve enjoyed. Bye now. 

Winnie, Roses, Cakes and the Room Where it Happens

 Today was another big day.  I will open with dinner, which we decided, pre-play (Michael always argue you’re supposed to eat AFTER…🙄)

The morning began with breakfast at a chain (though it doesn’t seem too chain-y) that I ate at a lot in 2023 when I was here “alone” with students — Bill’s.  We both had eggs benedict (K lusted after the pancakes, which are quite good, too, after she saw them brought to the next table): 

Oh, yeah, I had the beans, too, in honor of John’s birtday!

Then we were off to M’s recommendation of the Cabinet War Rooms Museum, down by Westminster. 

After about a 20 -minute wait, we were allowed in. 

It’s not a happy space.  There is a pretty maze-like setup, underground, with nothing but artificial light.  My free guide headphones stopped working on item 4 (of 14), so I got to read all the stuff (trying to show respect here) that lay before me. 

It was mostly a homage to Churchill, with a rundown of every day (K and I agreed that it essentially let you know every fart from when he became Prime Minister in May 1940 till he was out in May 1945).  If I never see another picture of him, I might be happy. 

It was depressing thinking for years people worked there; and many slept there, too.  There was of course a bedroom for Winston and one for Mrs. Churchill (Clementine, if you didn’t know).  It was so dreary they had an official signboard to tell them the weather if they went “up top” and outside. :). They did amazing work, but it wasn’t for the week and not sure how exciting the tour was.

Then off to Regent’s Park, where K again wanted to see the roses (we did this last year, if you remember).  Although it wasn’t great, though I think as good as could be, we got to the park and the rose area.  It’s not that near to a bus or tube stop.  I think K liked this particular rose most. (they were kinda in the middle of season — some at their end and others with a lot of buds left). 

Back to clean up and to afternoon tea and then…

To Hamilton!

The tea place, Viola’s, was certified cute.  And they did a decent afternoon tea.  Though K did a “Bevvie” (IYKYK) 😂

I lead with the top, the sweets, OC: banana layer cake, raspberry sponge roll, and a custard tart with something K couldn’t distinguish on top.

Clotted cream and scones layer. 

Savory layer: smoked salmon nearest, and then sliders, and there was an egg in a mini hot dog bun.  

It was all well done.  Delicious.  We only left a little.

Then away to the play! 

(Travel note: we got on a bus and are halfway down Whitehall when they announce [I didnt hear it] that the bus was terminating at that stop!!!  We got out and ended up switching to another bus route that got us there in plenty of time but there was a woman absolutely losing it to the bus driver bc he hadn’t told her when she got on at the previous stop that it was terminating. 😄. first world problem, but I don’t blame her.  The driver claimed there were announcements, but where? and who checks wherever before getting on every bus in the city?)

I’d never seen it on stage and it’s been a dozen years since K and M saw it on Broadway.  So…away we went. 

As sat, waiting for the opening curtain, I tried a couple jokes on K.  “Is this about the great Formula 1 driver?”  I was told that was terrible.  I chewed on it and asked “is it about the alcoholic baseball player?”  I was told to give it a rest and find another audience. 

At intermission, the couple next to K got to talking about the play and they questioned who died in the first act.  I told them “spoiler alert, it’s not the last death in the play.”  The guy laughed and said he was aware of the history.  :)

It is a fabulous play.  That Manuel-Miranda somehow weaved the history through that kind of tunes and makes it all kind of click is amazing.  They did a good job tonight, though I suggested at intermission that the sound was off — the guy said he couldn’t distinguish the lyrics.  At the end, you couldn’t hear Eliza’s quieter words, which K told me it was because I can’t hear that on the register (just plain mean 😡). 

I won’t try to analyze voices or anyhing, but it was good fun and we were. both glad to have seen it. 

Now, for a couple of finishing anecdotes: 

On the way home, we’re on the Tube and K nudges me and points to the people in front of me.  In jean jackets.  There were four of them!!! then, over her shoulder, were two more!!! they followed us all the way out of Holborn station.  It was like a Hitchcockian fever dream!  I am, hopefully, reunited with mine tomorrow. ❤

Then there’s this: we get onto the Tube train and this little girl jumps up out of her seat to give it to us. (I am going to stick to the claim it wasn’t just me :)). We didn’t take it. 

On the next train, another woman jumped up and offered ME her seat, and I turned it down!!!  

I told K I am going to start where a sign around my neck saying “I’m not THAT old yet.”

And that is the end, unless tomorrow’s return home brings something worth blogging.  Hope you’ve enjoyed it.  Till next time…

Dover, Heart Burn & Elder Arnold

 Today we got up late and around and then had a big day for 2 olds.  We were gone from the now-famous hotel non-room (think small closet) for 13 hours!!!  I have more steps than I have put on my surgically repaired knee since surgery, 7 weeks ago today.  And it doesn’t hurt that much at the end of the day :)

First, after the manipulations of how two people get together in like a 6x8 space, we bolted for St Pancras station, where we caught the 1007 to Dover.  

(the group of young people in front of us, post-college, talked incessantly, reminding us of the guy on yesterday’s plane.  The one interesting tidbit was one had a friend accepted for fall in the Harvard MBA program and wasn’t sure about going, given our current immigrant welcome ): )

We’d never seen the castle there.  Neither one of us got a decent picture coming into town, when you can see it way, way up on the hill.  

but here’s a view from above:

I don’t know how many castle shots you want. 

The one real boon was we were walking up the enormous hill (a thing this week) and saw a “mobility van” and haled it and got a ride from nowhere near the top to a lot closer to the top.  :)  It was a lot easier going down.  The grades are ridonkulous. 

BTW, it was nice today, though the weather promised was 18 and partly sunny.  14 and windy?  Not quite the same thing. 

We got back to the station 3 minutes before the next train (for an hour) to London arrived.  Whew!  It was packed so much that the people on the third stop from the end (Ebbsfleet, if you care) had to stand. 

Notable was the woman who sat across from me in her jean jacket.  Then, at the penultimate stop (John, that’s not the almost best stop :)), when the kid across from me got up, her friend joined her AND SHE WAS WEARING A JEAN JACKET?!?!?!😡 The good news on my jean jacket is that they found it and I can pick it up Sunday at Gatwick 🎉🥳

We then went to the half-price ticket booth in Leicester Square, which turned out to be closed.  But there was a QR and we found tickets to the Book of Mormon, which neither of us has seen and both wanted to.  And they were good seats (Michael! 7th row back in the center)

Then .2 of a mile to Dishoom in Covent Garden.  As some of you know, though I realize not many because some of you won’t eat Indian food ):, this is one of our favorite places in London.  We went to their restaurant back when there was only one and now they have like a half-dozen.

They do small plates of Indian.  Here’s a few pics — 

Lamb samosas.

Lamb skewers (I heard a lot of baa-baa-baa over this meal).

My favorite, their Ruby Chicken, which is their take on butter chicken. 

BTW, for dinner there’s always a line at whichever Dishoom you go to (they don’t take reservations).  We were told it was 45 minutes to sit inside or right away outside.  We choose outside, because we had a place to be.  For that, it was a good choice.  And the food was good, though heart-burn inducing.  But it was windy as heck.  at one point K got them to draw in their awnings out of fear they were going to break and kill us (😂). [This is the place also famous for us almost losing K’s brother Butch to a bicycler on the street as we left :))

Back across Leicester Square to the theatre. 

IF you’ve not seen it, you can’t know how silly and sacrilegious Book of Mormon is.  And very funny.  I got a picture of the screen before it started (you’re not supposed to take pics during the play)

K said “we’re in the middle, we won’t have to worry about being trampled on.”  Au contrair, Pierre!!  We must have gotten up and down a dozen times.  OC, two people accounted for several trips.  

It’s not a long play; we were out before 10 and back to the closet shortly thereafter.  

It was a v long day.  

And the only way to finish is with the closing line from BoM: I have maggots in my scrotum. :)

The funniest side not of the day may be the guy we waited for taxis with in the taxi lot at the castle.  He and his family were from South Carolina.  They were there, then this evening taking the ferry from Dover to Calais (today you could literally see the French coast) and then to Paris.  K asked what they were doing in Paris and he said he didn’t know, his wife did the itinerary. 😂. C’est la vie. 

Waiting…Room

 Today was supposed to be a travel day, with little to tell.  It was a travel day, but there’s plenty to tell.

Let’s start with the big news: the hotel room. K said “this is what I get for not double-checking the room” :) How bad is it? Well, it’s the smallest room either of us has ever stayed in.  If you can imagine, the bed has ONE open side!! Right, someone has to climb over someone to get in and out of bed. ):  There are maybe, just maybe 6 feet from the bed to the bathroom wall and sliding door.  That means the door has to open in that space.  

Storage? There are 4 hooks with hangers on the wall on the space between the headboard and the shower.  Obviously the TV is on the all at the foot of the bed.  There’s no storage, just a small (read SMAll) makeup table.  There’s a space under the end of the bed on the open side to slide some things under there.  That’s your storage.  

But it’s nice.  And in a good spot in London; K said this morning we couldn’t be closer to.a Tube stop. :)

Now to the big news of the night: the tasting menu at AngloThai.  

We had 9 o’clock reservations but our plane was half an hour late leaving Newquay; then there was the half hour on the express from Gatwick (K claimed the one from Heathrow is quicker); then the taxi ride through rush hour traffic in the center of town (the driver did a good job though he hit almost every light on red; he did NOT hit a bunch of bikers who cut in front of him, which he easily could have :)) and we were to the hotel at 8 — Google maps said the restaurant was 18 minutes away via Tube.  

We got there in time.  Michael will be interested at the location, which is between where we used to stay on Crawford and Marble Arch tube station.  Familiar territory. 

There were a bunch of courses.  K had a modified wine tasting menu, so we were pretty familiar with the sommelier by the end of the evening.  I will stick with the main course, “lamb sirloin” with some sort of grain and salad. The curry sauce was delightful. 

I would load more, but the internet isn’t cooperating, so you’ll have to wait — I might send more tomorrow (today) bc there won’t be food porn then. ):

Short version: we had a first course that the highlight was a curried chicken (like a nugget, but high end), then there was a course with caviar on crab emulsion; there was a course with cuddlefish; and the dessert was strawberries with jasmine rice ice cream. 

K really enjoyed it.  I was “bleh” (running through them, I don’t like cuddlefish, lamb, or caviar, to start) but it was fun.  The couples to our right and left were entertaining too.

Speaking of entertaining: we thought security at tiny Newquay airport would be nothing, but we both got pulled aside (we don’t know why still) and got to watch the guy ahead of us have 2 bottles of wine, a bottle of whisky, a bottle opener and an electric corkscrew pulled out of his bag. 😂They confiscated everything but the whisky. 

K said later, seeing them after we got luggage — why didn’t they put it in their checked luggage?!!??  People. 

There was also the woman who had her moisturizer confiscated for the second straight plane trip.  She must have looked like a moisturizer bomber. 

We killed the time between checkout and flight at the Watergate Beach Hotel.  Here’s K’s picture from the restaurant. 

It is worth noting that the plane trip from Newquay was highlighted by the guy a row back talking incessantly — the whole way!  It was unbelievable!  

then I left my jean jacket in the overhead bin — the second jean jacket I have lost this year. ):  Working with Gatwick to get it back.  Little hope. 😢

That was Thursday.  Friday we are off on a day trip to Dover.  Wish us well. 

Potting, Plants and Gardens, and Farm (and tables)

 So, today…what was supposed to be Part II of y’day, but we both agreed THAT wasn’t happening, was a trip to the Eden Project.  Since there were road signs for it from like 10 miles out, it must be a big deal. :)

M and I came here on an earlier trip (I think it was ‘08) and she famously scared me by going on the zipline — marketed as England’s fastest.  No one ziplined today. 

As one ages, one forgets, or doesn’t notice when young, the difficulty of these things.  The walk down to the entrance to the Eden Project was not unlike the walk down to Tintagel exhibition center and beach yesterday.  No, I’m not making this up. 

And once in the rainforest biodome, there’s more climbing than a Himalayan sherpa.  They like these twisty walkways that go up and up or down and down; then you look up or down and see how much elevation you’ve cleared.

But it’s a cool place.  We both took lots (ok, I took “a few”) plant pictures.  There were a lot of lovely things, including a red poppy field.  

First, there was breakfast.  This is always a challenge (see the blogs on NYC last January) and there’s a competition between us: K has been know to take us to 4.8 star places in small towns where I ended up with a cup of joe and a muffin. :)

Today almost was one she would have held against me FOREVER! :)

It was called the Potting Shed (worth remembering) and when I showed her the picture in their reviews of their Benedict, she said “ewww”.  I asked what was that about? and she said the hollandaise didn’t look good.  After much to-ing and fro-ing, we ended up there anyway. 

We come down the highway and Google maps wants me to take a left into a street and she’s saying (intensely, if not loudly) “that’s the street?  are you sure?” and I said we’re almost there.  

It turns out we’ve turned into Newquay Garden Center!  Remember the restaurant’s name.  We stroll in through the plants, etc, and there is a sign for the restaurant above a door.  I open the door and its an office corridor!!! There’s no sign of a restaurant.   K said let’s ask someone (women!!) and she points to a glass door behind a ficus (or something).  As I walk toward it, I actually see people inside eating!!! Hallelujah!!!

It turned out to be a good little place.  Unusual.  I got a shot of the interior. 

and the food was excellent.  Here’s K’s variation on avocado toast (bc a garden center will have fresh avocados, right?}. 

Jump to dinner: again, a “famed” chef — Adam Handily, who is from Scotland, which explaned the Haggis Scotch Egg on the menu.  

It was an interesting venue — off a caravan park out in the relative middle of nowhere.  The farmhouse said 1669 on the side.  The interior had farmhouse vibes, with beams and wood and a fireplace.  

The food was labeled as “luxury pub food” and it probably was that.  At least for the price.  We started with these cheese donuts, which might have been the best part of the meal. 

 We both went basic: K had the filet, I had the smack burger.  Here’s the pics. 

And we had the custard tart with clotted cream and caramel ice cream.  We thought we chose poorly and had a chat with the wait person who asked if we had criticisms.  :). Duh. 

And then we went and watched the last sunset of our trip, at least over the ocean. 

Tomorrow we fly to London in the afternoon and have reservations at a place that does nothing but a tasting menu.  We’ll see how that goes. :)

Till then. 

Round table and star table

 To start: hit no rocks; broke no tyres; only had K screaming multiple times! :)

We start with the hero of the day: we went to Tintagel, which is best known in Arthurian legend as the place where Arthur was conceived.  There was one depiction, coming from someone (Tennyson?) that had Arthur born from the waves here, but…phooey is phooey. 

It was another bright, sunny day in Cornwall, which they expect this time of year, and, generally, all of the time.  K came to Cornwall so there had to be good weather. :) 

After a couple stops, we went to Tintagel (about 25 miles from where we are staying in Newquay) and promptly missed a turn.  This turned out to be problematic, as was much of the afternoon with Google maps, as we ended up on another one-lane road.  Between the “move overs” and the “stop! let them throughs!” I thought K might lose it.  

But we made it without incident.  

We had breakfast, which I will picture later so it’s not the thumbnail, at the King Arthur’s Inn, which it turns out is where M and I stayed on our sojourn there in ‘06.  She and I came into London, drove to Tintagel, stayed the night, then went to Plymouth (I had a work appointment). 

I remembered, and we scheduled based on my memory, that this is like a killing walk, up and down and up and down. They stopped you as you went into the site and told you that you had to walk back up the slope that you were looking down bc the shuttle couldn’t come up the access road (there was no such thing in’06).   We discussed later why some people thought this was a good idea.  I mean, the one woman needed TWO canes. 

But the place is spectacular.  I’ll try a couple of examples. 

For those of you at home, this is the picture of the bridge across from the mainland to the island that is now Tintagel (there was a cliff fall in the 15th century).  This was NOT the bridge in ‘06 (think instead of the one in Monty Python and the Holy Grail with the wizard guarding it) — K overheard people say they had people in their group refust to cross over it.  The above photo is from the bridge.  It’d be a fall. I went over it, trying not to look over the sides. :)

K was, of course, enthusiastic, and decided she was going up to the top.  I sat and rubbed my knee for half an hour.  This is her pic at today’s photo op, the famed statue of Darth Vader…errrr, King Arthur, that is the current English Heritage logo for the place.  

Okay. To talk about the walk up…I wish we had taken photos.  If it wasn’t a 20’ grade, it was nothing.  

But we made it.  Yes, my knee hurt.  Yes, K’s face was redder than a cardinal. 

did I mention it was a hot, sunny day?  The car at one point claimed it was 20. I’ll let you do the math (if you know how).

So. Home.  “We’re not going back the way we came.”  Read that as an order.  :). Okay.  Well, google maps ran us out of town a little ways and then there was this right turn off the road I thought was going in a good direction (if you don’t know, the Brits number their roads sort of like we number ours — the lower the number, and smaller the digits, the better the road).  We turn off a 4-digit (3xxx) road onto an unnumbered road, which then we turned off onto another named road (no number) and then just “turn right in 500 feet” (FYI it is NEVER good if Google maps doesn’t know the name of the road).  We came to a spot between two signs (I think the round white signs with diagonal black crosses are no passing signs, ironically) and she would not let me go on.  It was one-lane.  I agreed and there was a disagreement about the best way to turn around (if I didn’t “win”, I did it my way anyway 😂) and we went back to the place we turned and continued on down the 3xxx and that turned out well.  “why the heck did Google send us the other way?”  we’ve asked that question quite a bit the last two days. 

Full English at King Arthur’s Inn.  Note the black pudding, which you don’t always get.  Fortunately. 

For dinner, we had a treat.  I was first up this morning, by quite a bit, which will surprise everyone who knows us.  While waiting “patiently,” I looked for Michelin star restaurants in Cornwall.  There are actually 4.  One is the original seafood restaurant of the guy (Rick Stein) whose place we ate in last night.  Didn’t want seafood.  His protegee (they might not agree with that) also had a Michelin star place in Padstow (who knew it was culinary capital?), but I couldn’t get in there.  But the Michelin guide had his second place in Padstow (about 12 miles away) as an “almost star” place and they had an opening.  It’s name is Caffe Rojano.  

I convinced K to take the scenic route up the coast, on a 4-digit road, and it was fine (there was some good scenery) till we got to town and it got us into a part of town, like in St. Ives yesterday, that you felt like you weren’t supposed to drive. We eventually found a car park and walked two-tenths of a mile to the restaurant.  Again, why was google weaving us through places we couldn’t get and couldn’t park?

Caffe Rojano has some seafood (I saw no one with it), but does pasta and meat.  Here goes the food porn —

We started with this Caesar, which had its own idiosyncracies.  You can see it was heavy on the dressing, which was a bit sardine-y, and cheese, and had some crispy kale thrown in (to make up for the decadent dressing and cheese).  It was good. 

I had the ox cheek ragu.  I don’t know what the lasagna like pasta was, but it was different.  The ragu was lighter than normal and the ox cheek was…yes, cheeky. It was my best meal so far (not the highest bar). 

K had the pork sobrasada, which you can tell has red chilis in it.  She was rapturous about it. :)

And, to finish, tiramisu.  I thought it was heavy on the coffee, but K didn’t think so. :). 

Highly recommend it if you are ever in Padstow.  😂

In the “what’s going on here” category: the guy next to me at the restaurant asks if I’m American.  K said yes (I was trying to divert, in case) and he did a bit of chatting back and forth.  He is two years retired.  Said it is amazing that he no longer knows what day of the week it is, except, he said, “of course, Sundays.”  I politely said “of course.” 🤷. There was chatter about (what else?) our President, and somehow got onto golf and found out that there was a Top 100 golf club less than a mile away, according to him.  Turns out, yes, as the crow flies.  Am I a crow? ):  [looking on the flawed Google maps, it’s 30 minutes away by car bc you have to go strong the intervening River] Acc to our table companion, the poet John Betjemin is buried in the cemetary that the golf course surrounds (it is true as per Wikipedia).  

And, that, my friends was our day.  Except, coming home, having come the “easy way” down 3 and 2 digit roads, Google maps tried to take us into a one-lane road about a mile from our caravan.  I was told I was NOT taking that road.  :). I didn’t and we looped widely around and came in from what I suspect was the other side. :).  Safely.

And there was no sunset tonight.  It was cloudy. 

We’re not sure about our plans or the weather tomorrow.  Stay tuned. 

The Land Ended and so did the tyre (with Cornish seaside food porn)

 Addendum from yesterday: I forgot what I think is the funniest story from the day.  We are at Newquay airport (think of the smallest airport you’ve ever seen — one baggage carousel, two bathrooms, no frills) and we are almost the last to leave the building.  We open the sliding door under the exit sign and there are two women standing there and say “thank god, we were trapped in here!” I look and there’s a mural on the wall down the corridor.  “But everyone else came out this way.”  I walk down the corridor and can see the motion sensors above the mural and, sure enough, the mural slid open when I got close enough!!! 😂😆

Today

If this isn’t the longest blog in history, well, I will have shown major restraint (😃😂). there was A LOT of stuff. 

I will start with purely tourist and historical — the main event was a trip to Lands End.  Yes, it’s a place here in England.  You will love the picture (see the signpost).  

Background: the kid and I came here in ‘08 during our weekend in Cornwall.  It was May, too, and the weather, unlike today (see pic) was Cornwall crappy.  Misting and fogging and out there it was windy.  We couldn’t see the lighthouse for the fog! 

Not this year.  Wonderful day.  It should be noted that driving out there is an experience — about 5 miles from there all trees disappear and it becomes “windswept.”  There’s also the last pub in England about a mile up the road — “since 1620”.  I guess being the last pub here gives staying power. 

Since ‘08, someone bought the place from the family that owned it and has tourist kitsche’d it up.  We had to pay to have our pictures taken under the signpost (which I guess only dates back to the ‘50s), and there were four amusement shows, including an INTERACTIVE Wallace & Grommet.  K wouldn’t let us go in. 😢 You’ll understand why I wasn’t getting any favors later. :)

Here’s the money shot:

You can see the lighthouse if you zoom in on the left halfway up. :)

One highlight of the day was this animal: his name is Tim.  He has a very pretty coat. :)  When they walked up, I asked “what kind of dog is that?” (there were lots of dogs about, including three small ones as Tim walked up who were giving him the evil eye :))  she ignored me. LOL.  

We then made our way BACK to St Ives (I will leave out the PTSD screams 😱) and eventually (there could be a long thing here about “what the F was Google maps doing trying to take us through the old city with one-lane streets and pedestrians wandering like sheep in the middle of the road, like no car was coming!!! 😡) to the Tate St. Ives (M and I went here in ‘08 — again, wet and foggy).  The funniest part of THIS part was K saying “show me on the phone where we are going because I’m not walking over a mile for that museum”.  I point to the building, which can’t be a short par-4 away and say “there.”  Where? That white building.  Which white building? clear down there?  No, the one right there with the circular roof (the Tate St. Ives has a distinctive white color and design that might remind you of the Guggenheim in New York). There?!?!  Really?!!?!?  I was again her hero. :)

K took a bunch of pics from there — this is what I think is the best one. (tide was WAY out)

and, now, the good stuff.  I knew K got up this morning (in our caravan, which we both rather like — for what it is) around 7 and I went back to sleep.  I was awakened by this knocking.  WTF?!?!?  And again.  And again.  Rap.  Rap.  Rap.  I was thinking she was killing bugs on the glass in the kitchen or something.  :). Then she starts talking.  It’s like 2 am back on the East Coast and she’s chatting.  I have no idea.  I come out and ask “WTF?” and she says I’ve had a visitor.   Here’s the police photo. 

I tried shooing it away, too, and it finally left.  But what a thing!!  Can’t decide if it was hungry or lonely. or what it expected from rapping annoying on the door glass. 😃😂

[I know at this point JP is over his word limit, so he can just skip ahead, look at the fish porn, and the next photo, and call it a day :)]

Now for the not-so-funny story.  So, we decided to have breakfast in St. Ives, on the water, right there in front of the Tate (remember “PTSD”).  We get to the outskirts of St Ives, which isn’t really a large town (at this point I should say that K is duplicating by reading the directions off of Google maps on the Car Play screen :)). We get to a point where it says “straightahead” and I don’t know which road is the one that’s straight ahead.  I go uphill, a slight left (I made the same error later, too 😂) and was going to whip into a place to turnaround in some traffic but K said “no-no” so I went on and Google maps rerouted.  It took us up the hill farther, to ever shrinking roads, to the point where we got to one that I wasn’t sure was even a road.  There was one right turn up a hill and there was a rock, nicely painted white, in the far corner of the turn.  I hit it.  Hard!!!  We went on.

It got so narrow that the car’s annoying “you’re close” signal was going off ON BOTH SIDES!  K was literally…well, I don’t know what the noise she was she kept making, but I’ve never heard her make it before (what’s the uh-oh emoji?)  She kept saying “no, no, don’t!” and I was like “what am I going to do?”  

Finally, finally, we got back to something like a real road and then the tire pressure light came on. (who knew?) and then the car got hard to steer.  And then you could hear the tire, on the passenger side, of course, slap. 😱

I pull onto the sidewalk (the road isn’t very wide) and we figure out how to call the rental agency.  When we get to the person in charge of roadside assistance, she says they will have to take the car to Penzance (we are in St Ives, 10 hard miles away) and it’ll be an hour and forty-five minutes before they get there!!! K says “how long?!?!?? There’s nothing on this street except traffic, including foot traffic, and waiting there so long…well, the voice says “oh, there’s actually someone nearby.  He’ll be there in like 20 minutes.  He’ll call when he’s 10 minutes away.”

[I should point out I had no idea where we were.  When she asked, I had nothing, but K looked out her window and there was a small house sign that said “1 Fern Hill”.  Got it! :)] 

Martin never called. Oh, yeah, the C-class Mercedes does NOT have a spare!  Just so you know. :) 

Martin showed up about 35 minutes later, pulling on the sidewalk behind him.  He was friendly and efficient.  To my engineering amusement, he pulls out both a battery powered lug wrench AND a “universal spare tire”.  It had a magic fitting that went on the hub and then the tire on that.  He even used a torque wrench to make sure all 10 lugs were the precise amount of tight. 

I followed him to the “Kwik Fit” shop outside Penzance and they got it in immediately.  AND had a tyre (we’re buying British here) for it.  

In case you missed it, it is now almost noon and we never got that breakfast.  

What is fortuitously across the street from the Kwik Fit?  The Cornish Pasty Oven!  So, we got our first (and last!) episode with the ubiquitous Cornish “delight” — pictured below. 

I had the flaky chicken; K had the water crust steak.  (for those who don’t know, what’s inside is some meat [there were 3 pieces of chicken] and A LOT of onions, potatoes, and TURNIPS! 🤮)

And, in almost no time, we were on the road to Lands End.  K figured we might have been an hour behind.  And more than that mentally damaged. 

So, we are coming back into town and i make the same mistake, but I ignore the turns and get back on the right road right away, but THAT takes me into the center of town, with the car beeping all over the place again, and turning into seemngly blind streets, and K is…well, I look forward to her recovery. 

After the Tate, back home, (we haven’t figured out how to traverse the caravan park and get right to our unit, yet, fyi) some rest, and then we went for fish and chips.  On the beach. 

Here’s their fish sampler:

In case you are wondering, it’s from nearest to us to farthest, cod, haddock, hake (for JP) and whiting (the catch of the day).  It was excellent.  and that’s mushy peas, tartar sauce, and curry sauce.  

Our waiter, Jason, was funny.  K said she wanted the rose and he said “it comes from a can! but it’s lovely.”  She hesitated and he said “trust me.”  😃  then we said we were ordering the sampler and he said, “oh, yeah, that’s the thing to get.  Trust me.”  I pointed out that was 2 “trust me’s” already we all knew what that meant. 😂

Then we had white chocolate and raspberry fool.  The raspberry on top dominated — it was a very tart coulie — and the custard was hard to taste, though the bit of sweet helped cut the tartness.

Then we went outside and watched this:

So, other than a car tyre (or two), all was good today.

Nota bene: after doing that to the front left tyre, there was an incident involving a bus coming towards us that I “broke in” the new tyre by barking it against the curve. 😃. And then there was this moment when I cut a left turn a bit tight and jumped the curve with my left rear wheel. :). all’s good, though. 

And, with that, it’s time to hit the hay and hope Gertrude or Heathcliffe don’t show up early in the morning. 😀

First day in New Key

 [Editor’s note: Maybe the best part of this journey is how we ended up here. 

It started as so many such stories do, with an ad for Aer Lingus for $350 fare to Dublin.  We all know that that was a teaser price.  And then K’s vaacation people had a place in Devon for another $350 for the week, and they had this week open, and…

Aer Lingus’s hot deal was ver alst week, so that idn’t work out.  But then the fares to London weren’t too bad (we paid ~500) and we got to talking and the place in Devon was a long way from anywhere.  a Quick booking.com check and here we are, in the surfing capital of Britian, which is kind of like saying the fishing capital of a desert. :)]

I wasn’t going to blog on “the first day” (you know, fly over day) but we did so much here and it is so lovely and unusual…well, I had material.

First, where we are staying : we ended up in Newquay, on the northwest Cornish coast, because it’s on the coast and near their airport.  It is famous for it’s surfing.  And you can really, really tell. 

Second, we are staying in one of those most British of cultural things: a caravan! Yes, we are glamping.  When I searched booking.com, it came up, the rate was cheap (almost like dirt) and the pictures made it look nice.  When we got here, I told K the pictures made it look bigger than it actually is, but they weren’t far off.  

This is for the thumbnail — one of the beach shots today.  As you can see it was beautiful and water is a beautiful shade of aquamarine.  

The trip could not have gone better, despite the usual on overnight trips to Europe.  K sat next to a guy who hogged seats; I got my leg and shoulder rolled over on the aisle multiple times.  The food was terrible (when they ask “chicken or…” take the “or” EVERY time).  

But our luggage arrived relatively quickly, then we had to find our airline, since they had no app and their website wouldn’t load for the last day. ):  When the counterperson asked why we were going to Newquay, I said “to surf” and she said “oh,” like she understood and K had to butt in and tell her “no, he’s just kidding.”  The surf joke has gotten some play already. 

The flight from Gatwick to Newquay was on a duo prop plane with maybe 40 passengers.  The best part was that we swept in from the southwest and came in over the ocean and the beach. 

Yes, I said “prop” plane.

I do not think I’ve ever walked so far as we did from the terminal to the Europcar storefront.  Which we were told is temporary.  Good timing on our part, but we found out it is going farther out!!!

I was signed up to get a Ford Focus with a manual transmission; I drove out (eventually) in a Mercedes C-class with automatic transmission.  :). They gave me a “deal.”  What the heck!  But then we sat in the car and couldn’t figure out 1) how to move the car seat (it was up too close for me to get my legs in), 2) how to put it in Drive and go!  We had to rely on Mr. Google both times.  The seat adjustment is on the dash, above your right knee, and the transmission — it’s a handle on the steering wheel like your turn signal!  

I did not hit anything on day one, driving on the wrong side. 

Dinner was at a beach view pizza joint.  Not exactly food porn worthy, but here’s the baked camembert.  It was pretty good. 

It is worth noting that the caravan place has A LOT of caravans and we have gotten lost trying to find our way up the hill (the office is at the bottom of a hill) both times we have come back.  There are no signs and the numbers aren’t in order. 

Also, I went to take a shower and got no hot water.  Turns out I had to turn the heater on, which also heats the water.  I figured it out, sort of, but called maintenance and he told me to do what I’d already done! yeah, rah. 

Anda that is day one.  Surfing tomorrow.  (I’ve been told there is serious money in there being a picture of me on a surf board in a wet suit…😂