Tuesday August 20
A quiet day at Port Gaverne. We’re pretty sure the people who own this hotel also own the cafe next door, as well as another hotel at the top of the hill called the Stargazy Inn, which is officially just inside the Port Isaac boundary. The tuk tuk we saw yesterday plies his trade for free between the two hotels.
We’re sitting at the cafe next door, having a quiet drink and watching the world go by. Sunny with a slight chill in the breeze. This is their summer. Sarah has a rug around her shoulders. Pathetic!
We thought we’d wait for the tuk tuk guy to turn up, and we’ll take a ride up that god awful hill. So far he’s a no-show.
We do lunch. Nice to relax amid the chaos of trying to cover great swathes of the country in just a few weeks. Still no sign of the tuk tuk. Sarah is feeling adventurous. Let’s go a little way up the road.
OK, we’ll go up to the White House, and then back again. Done. Off we waddle. Oddly, it’s warmer here. I guess we’re out of the direct breeze off the sea. Soon I’m unzipping my old man cardy, then taking it off. No music required, thanks.
On we plod. This isn’t too hard, really. Walking past the White House. Getting warmer. Maybe it’s the English summer. Maybe it’s the old man’s cardiovascular system going WTF!
Anyway we make it to the top without incident, and have a look around. Beautiful views. You’ll see in one photo, there is a sign facing one way saying Welcome to Port Isaac. Look the other way, you’ll see the sign telling us we are entering Port Gaverne.
We venture a few steps into Isaac to check out some nicky-nacky shops on the crest of the hill. We’re like a couple of Port Gaverne meerkats who’ve popped our heads over the hilltop to check out the other side, and popped back down again.
We see a bus pull up to a stop on the crest, pick up some more customers, and turn and head back through Port Isaac. No, I didn’t expect to see a bus tackle the winding ribbon of a road that winds through Port Gaverne.
We head back to town. On our way out of town tomorrow, we’ll venture where a car can venture in Port Isaac, before we head off to Truro. Poldark territory.
There are schools of rubbery youths wading about with crash helmets on in the bay. People in boats, some on paddle boards. Still not sure what the helmets are for.
Having dinner now. Just imagine. This pub was built about 200 years before the Treaty of Waitangi was signed.
Now it’s 19 o’clock, and the sun is still up. Many of the afternoon’s revelers have come out of the water and taken up a drink. There are a new wave (no pun intended) of kids heading into the water. Wetsuits are draped across all manner of structures like condoms after a particularly debauched event. Perhaps an explosion of seal skins after Shamu’s birthday party is a more appropriate analogy? Or not.
Oh, and parking is still at a premium.
A quiet day at Port Gaverne. We’re pretty sure the people who own this hotel also own the cafe next door, as well as another hotel at the top of the hill called the Stargazy Inn, which is officially just inside the Port Isaac boundary. The tuk tuk we saw yesterday plies his trade for free between the two hotels.
We’re sitting at the cafe next door, having a quiet drink and watching the world go by. Sunny with a slight chill in the breeze. This is their summer. Sarah has a rug around her shoulders. Pathetic!
We thought we’d wait for the tuk tuk guy to turn up, and we’ll take a ride up that god awful hill. So far he’s a no-show.
We do lunch. Nice to relax amid the chaos of trying to cover great swathes of the country in just a few weeks. Still no sign of the tuk tuk. Sarah is feeling adventurous. Let’s go a little way up the road.
OK, we’ll go up to the White House, and then back again. Done. Off we waddle. Oddly, it’s warmer here. I guess we’re out of the direct breeze off the sea. Soon I’m unzipping my old man cardy, then taking it off. No music required, thanks.
On we plod. This isn’t too hard, really. Walking past the White House. Getting warmer. Maybe it’s the English summer. Maybe it’s the old man’s cardiovascular system going WTF!
Anyway we make it to the top without incident, and have a look around. Beautiful views. You’ll see in one photo, there is a sign facing one way saying Welcome to Port Isaac. Look the other way, you’ll see the sign telling us we are entering Port Gaverne.
We venture a few steps into Isaac to check out some nicky-nacky shops on the crest of the hill. We’re like a couple of Port Gaverne meerkats who’ve popped our heads over the hilltop to check out the other side, and popped back down again.
We see a bus pull up to a stop on the crest, pick up some more customers, and turn and head back through Port Isaac. No, I didn’t expect to see a bus tackle the winding ribbon of a road that winds through Port Gaverne.
We head back to town. On our way out of town tomorrow, we’ll venture where a car can venture in Port Isaac, before we head off to Truro. Poldark territory.
There are schools of rubbery youths wading about with crash helmets on in the bay. People in boats, some on paddle boards. Still not sure what the helmets are for.
Having dinner now. Just imagine. This pub was built about 200 years before the Treaty of Waitangi was signed.
Now it’s 19 o’clock, and the sun is still up. Many of the afternoon’s revelers have come out of the water and taken up a drink. There are a new wave (no pun intended) of kids heading into the water. Wetsuits are draped across all manner of structures like condoms after a particularly debauched event. Perhaps an explosion of seal skins after Shamu’s birthday party is a more appropriate analogy? Or not.
Oh, and parking is still at a premium.
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