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I revel in being busy. I love looking through my diary and knowing I’ve got things on, and that come the end of the week I’ll have accomplished something, no matter how small. But sometimes you just have to get away from it all, and after a manic few months that’s exactly what Frankie and I did this weekend.
So, on Thursday evening we packed up the cars with plenty of wine, food and not forgetting, Will and Klynton, and headed off to Porthscahtho, a tiny little fishing village on the Cornish coast. Frankie’s grandparents own a lovely old house down there, which has bags of character and one hell of a view, but by the time we arrived it was 11pm, and pitch dark. We could hear the sea, but we couldn’t see it, and after a couple of glasses of red I went to bed feeling just a little bit excited about what view might greet us when we woke up.
And I wasn’t disappointed!
The house sits on the cliff overlooking a typically dramatic Cornish coastline, and as if by magic the weather on Friday morning was so beautiful it was actually warm enough to sit on the patio and eat our breakfast of bacon, eggs and avocado on crumpets in the sunshine.
Good bloody start!
The rest of Friday played out a bit like this – eating, drinking, exploring! After a lunch of Jamaican Patties, expertly made by Frankie (I’m sure she’ll blog the recipe for you soon) we pottered into the village, where everyone got far too excited about trying to find crabs in the rock pools.
Having had a bit of a ‘run around’ on the beach we headed back to the house for some dinner, and spent the rest of the evening surprising ourselves by our general knowledge playing Trivial Pursuit (the 80’s edition I’ll have you know!) and laughed until it hurt at how bad we all were at Articulate. Here’s an example:
Will: “Like a hippo, but with a horn”
Frankie: (shouting) “A RHINOCORN!”
It was, of course, a Rhino…
Saturday started in much the same way as the day before, with the kind of hearty breakfast you generally only have the time to make on holiday, except for there may have been a few more sore heads around.
At midday Tommy and Kristina joined us and like proper grown ups we took ourselves off for a long bracing walk around the headland – how bloody grown up, eh?
The views are generally gorgeous wherever you go in Cornwall, but I can safely say that the coastline around Porthscato is pretty breathtaking. By the time we headed out the weather had started to cloud over a little, but it only added to the excitement of it all, with the waves crashing and the seagulls shouting their heads off above us.
One thing that the weekend taught me (which I think I kind of knew already) is that you’re never too old for playing on the beach. As soon as we’d set foot on the sand the boys were busy building dams and rivers in the sand, and it wasn’t long before all six of us were scrabbling around for the right shaped rock to build the perfect dam! On the next beach we visited we collected shells, got caught by the waves, drew our names in the sand and had more fun than we’d had in ages (apart from Klynton, who managed to nearly knock himself out on his binoculars). Just goes to show – it doesn’t matter if you’re 7 or 27, you’re never too old to have a good old run around on the beach!
We headed back partly because it was staring to get dark, and partly because Will couldn’t be trusted not to fall over with every step he took, and reminded ourselves that we’re actually proper grown ups with a well deserved pint of Cornish Rattler in the local pub!
All in all, a lovely weekend with lovely people – it’s amazing how a few days away can set you back to normal.