Serena Epstein » cornwall

Cornwall, Day 6

Serena — Fri, 24 Jul 2009 23:17:28 +0000

I spent my final day in Cornwall in one of my favorite towns: Zennor. Home to the famous mermaid chair,¹ Zennor is a cute little village near St Ives that boasts dramatic cliffs, ocean views, a beautiful old church, and (of course) a great pub. Usually, we hike the four miles to Zennor from St Ives via the coastal footpath, which is gorgeous. There are always raspberries and blackberries to pick along the way, and once I even encountered a couple of curious seals after wandering out on some seaside rocks. This time, though, we drove to Zennor² and arrived (alas!) too late for our usual shepherd’s pie and lemonade at The Tinner’s Arms. Instead, I explored the church and graveyard, then hiked along the coastal path far enough to find a good spot to read my book.

Did you know: the church in Zennor is named for Senara, a Celtic saint who was condemned to be burnt by her cruel stepmother. After discovering that she was pregnant, her persecutors instead nailed her into a barrel and tossed it in the ocean. She gave birth while at sea, and an angel kept her fed and healthy until the barrel washed up on the coast of Ireland. She and her son left Ireland eventually, returning to England and founding the parish of Zennor in Cornwall. Many believe that the mermaid chair is more closely connected with Saint Senara’s aquatic origins than with the (probably more recent) mermaid legend.

Legend has it that–hundreds of years ago–the singing of a young man in Zennor was so exquisite that it attracted a mermaid, who began to attend church services to hear him sing. They fell in love, and he followed her back to the ocean, where they both disappeared forever. The ‘mermaid chair’ is a carved bench dating back more than 600 years. The carving is of a mermaid, holding her comb and mirror.
I was feeling a bit under the weather during my week in Cornwall.

Cornwall, Day 5

Serena — Thu, 23 Jul 2009 22:30:19 +0000

To be honest, nothing much happened on day five. It rained all day, and we were supposed to take in an evening performance of La Traviata at the Minack Theatre,¹ but that rained out. So I’m cheating a bit and including some leftover day four photographs. At the end of the day (after Kynance Cove) we stopped by Roskilly’s Farm to see if they had food/ice cream for us. But as it was a weekday, they had closed already. So instead we took a little walk, gushing over adorable baby ducks and marveling at giant rhubarb plants.²

One day, I will grow a garden full of giant rhubarb. Then I’ll grow giant strawberries and make a pie the size of a swimming pool. It will take all summer to finish eating this pie, even with the neighbors helping.

Open-air theatre hewn out of a seaside cliff!
We also saw an overgrown road sign that was several yards into the woods, instead of on the road. It was probably still pointing in the right direction.

Cornwall, Day 3

Serena — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 23:34:39 +0000

Before we left on our two hour drive from St Ives to Tintagel, we consulted trusty¹ Google Maps for directions. While it did give us the most direct route, the first two miles also happened to be along a typical Cornish road. We don’t have roads like this in the U.S.² so I’ll try to explain. Four inches of space on either side of the car, if you’re lucky. Beyond these eight collective inches is usually a vertical mass of assorted greenery: flowers, climbing vines, stinging nettles, grass. Behind this layer of plant matter–and I mean right behind–is a solid rock wall (example here). You can’t actually see the wall, but it’s there. If you’re especially unlucky, you’ll get a few inattentive pedestrians or even an old man on a bicycle.³ You don’t want to run into a rock wall, because no matter how cushy those plants look, they’re not going to help you. And you’ll probably get stung by the nettles once you squirm your way out past the airbag. None of these things happened to us, thankfully. So anyway, we went about two miles on this road, praying that we wouldn’t meet any cars going in the opposite direction, until we connected with the main road and agreed to never implicitly trust Google Maps again. Moral of the story: Google will give you the quickest/most direct route, but it will not tell you about the stinging nettles, tiny lanes, and the bicycling elderly.

Right, so! Tintagel! It’s the kind of place you go and think, “My God, do they actually let children in here?” Well, that was my first thought anyway.⁴ First there’s a long, nettle-lined walk to the coast.⁵ And then, of course, there are steep, uneven steps carved out of the cliff face. Bonus points for doing it in the rain and wind. Once you get to the top, there are plenty of cliffs and no safety railings. Seriously, the cliff to railing ratio is about 14 to 1. And that one is to prevent visitors from getting through without paying. But wait! Can’t forget the two huge caves in the cove below the castle. They’ll have to climb/slide down a couple of unstable rock walls to get to those. There is also a very informative sign about rabies right next to the emergency telephone. And colonies of angry birds in at least one of the caves. (I would know. One of them squawked at me when I got too close, then dove at my head.) And, you know, the incoming tide filling the caves and cutting them off from the path back up. But if the kids do happen to live through all this, there’s a delicious reward in the form of ice cream at the café across from the gift shop.

Fun fact: Cornish Hurling (Hyrlîan) is a bizarre medieval sport, possibly derived from a pagan fertility rite, that is practiced in only two modern-day towns: St Ives and St Columb Major. Basically, a large crowd assembles in town, and the ball is thrown into the air. It is then passed from player to player. In St Ives, the goal is to be in possession of the ball when the clock strikes noon. The prize is five shillings from the mayor. In St Columb Major, the game is played “Townsmen vs. Countrymen”, and can get violent, apparently. The ball is passed around town for a while, but ultimately makes its way to the outskirts, where players dash around through fields and country lanes to get it to their respective goal markers. The scoring player is carried back into town on the shoulders of his singing teammates, where they share their prize of several gallon jugs filled with beer.

Fun fact #2: At 20 square miles, St Columb Parish holds the record as the largest playing area for any ball game in the world.

Note: sarcasm
I don’t think we could handle them
They’re everywhere in Cornwall. One day I will photograph and interview them all. I’ll start an old-man-on-bicycle collection.
Although, I think that a lot. At burlesque shows, modern art museums, the zoo, playgrounds…
Did you know: the sting of Urtica ferox, New Zealand’s version of the nettle, has caused at least one human death.

Cornwall, Day 2

Serena — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 17:50:38 +0000

Arrived at Chysauster Ancient Village just in time for a violent rainstorm. After sheltering in what was left of the Iron Age homes, we made our way to Mousehole (yes, that Mousehole) for lunch. We finished up the day at St. Michael’s Mount, where it was very windy. My mother thought the horse’s head with a fancy filigreed bridle on display was real. It wasn’t. However, they did have a full set of samurai armor in the weapons room for no apparent reason.

Vocab word of the day: fogou

Cornwall, Day 1

Serena — Sun, 12 Jul 2009 23:00:20 +0000

In England for the next couple of weeks. More specifically, the lovely seaside town of St Ives in Cornwall for five days. Today was full of hiking coastal paths, taunting seagulls, discovering local restaurants, getting caught in sunshowers, and making friends with stray cats.