Glasgow

Harry went to his last graduation service on Thursday and I took off to the new Cabot Circus (a shopping mall - brand new and opening celebrations - I had never been to an opening of a mall before so thought it could be interesting. Lots of people, shops fairly similar to other malls but I am told there are some new London chains now in Bristol. I spent about 15 minutes walking around looking at the architectual design - an interesting roof line which lets in natural light and air, but hopefully not rain, sloping floors which take you up floors without realising it. We have watched the car park being built over many months as we ride to work through the road works and thought we would never attempt to park any where near the Circus. After seeing the crowds I again thought bike is best. Rebecca arrived on Wednesday, so it was great catching up, and by Saturday she had a temporary job looking after crowds visiting a circus display (real kind not shops) for the weekend. She is getting used to Bristol - only got lost a few times - and the weather.

On Friday we flew to Glasgow (the Indian and curry capital of the United Kingdom). Our flight was delayed and so after a picnic tea in the car (crumbly bread rolls and bananas -we might suggest to the airport that they put in some picnic tables in the long term car park to avoid breadcrumbs all over the car) we settled in the airport with a 90 pence bottle of water (which you get free with a newspaper - if you don't want the newspaper you have to pay £1.15 for the bottle). So, lots of passengers sat at the airport reading and sipping until we hopped on the plane. Glasgow airport is like Wellington airport - same sorts of seats and the plane lands you at a long wing you have to wander down.

Our treat on Saturday was catching up with Zane and Michelle. It was lovely to see them and see that they are enjoying life in Scotland. They took us for a drive around Loch Lomond - it was misty and a bit wet and as Michelle said perfect weather for seeing Scotland - mountains, hills, water, green and relaxed. We visited little towns like Luss (lots of history there with the first monastic community around 1200) and Aldochlay (lots of lovely little houses with flower gardens) and Loch Katrin which provides the water supply for Glasgow. The Loch had pretty little steam boats chugging up and down the water ways but we decided to take a walk around the shoreline for a while. This is McFarlane Country - Zane's clan. Inverglas (the surrounding area) had 5 centuries of McFarlane rule - known best for their 'occasional spot of cattle rustling' (we saw some hairy coos and it would be a brave person to tackle those horns) and night time raids. Apparently, as they went on their raids they yelled 'Loch Sloy Loch Sloy' (I could just imagine Zane's rellies riding on horses doing this) and they became so well known that the moon was renamed 'McFarlane's lantern'. I wonder how many hoped for a cloudy night. It wasn't until the 18th century that the clan got a leader - Walter - a more scholarly gentleman who instilled some peaceful thoughts into clan members. I did smile thinking of the history of the clan and realised that there were more than 30 other surnames linked to this clan - so we just might all be related somewhere along the way. We had lunch in a cute little cafe which was packed with locals before making our way back around the other side of the Loch. Unfortunately just before arriving back into Glasgow Michelle and Zane's car decided to break its power steering cable, and after driving us back to the hotel, the car decided to breaks its fan belt and show its alternator light on the motorway. So, a 40 minute trip between Glasgow and Edinburgh turned into a few hours sitting on the roadside waiting for assistance and a long train trip back. Not much fun for our two friends.

On Sunday we decided to catch the 'Hop on hop off' bus around Glasgow. They're always quite good as they give you lots of information about the city, take you to the main spots while saving our feet and are usually quite frequent. The hotel was quite good for transport as on Friday evening we caught a bus from the airport (it felt like our own taxi as we were the only passengers and then the bus stop was right outside the hotel - so a door to door service without the expense). And the bus stop for the 'hop on hop off' was also right outside the door. Our first port of call was the Glasgow Tower - built solely as a tourist attraction as it seemed to have no other purpose. The tower was shaped a bit like an icecream cone and with a little help from some clever engineers stood on its narrowest end and went 127 metres into the sky. There was a viewing platform at the top and the whole tower rotated to face the wind to avoid it rocking - and because there was no wind they turned it round for us to see about 270 degrees of Glasgow which was quite fun. So we saw the the docks and the River Clyde - where we saw 2 seals play in the dirty water - the one tall ship which was built on the Clyde in 1896 and police helicopters take off from their pad below. We had initially agreed with the people who had told us that 'Glasgow is not a pretty city' but from the tower you could see that there is a plan - the new buildings are popping up along the river and all have a similar architectural look that complements each other (eg the Armadillo which is the events centre and looks like a bit of the Sydney Opera House, the Imax theatre which looks like a giant slug, the Science centre which looks a bit like a half of a big potato, the soon to be built new Transport Museum, and the modern bridges - the squinty bridge had a cable snap one night closing it for about six months - thankfully no one was around to get the lashing it would have dished out). There is also a bit of art deco around the place and some oldish type buildings but most of the buildings reflect that part of our life - post war - where residences were built cheaply and fast to replace those lost during the bombings.

By the time we had come down from the tower it was raining and so we stopped at the Museum of Transport. The museum was small but offered quite a few unique insights into the world of transport. Apart from the normal buses, engines, passenger trains and old cars there was

• a memorial to the victims of the Lockerbie bombing in 1988. I didn't realise that the Lockerbie disaster led to all the security now in place at airports - as it was caused by a bag in the hold with no owner in the cabin. I don't wish to knock airport security as it is for our safety but we did have an amusing time at Bristol airport this time. Being frequent travellers we have a little plastic bag already packed with all our liquids in - less than 50 mls per item is the requirement. The regulators in England decided the day before that they would enforce the size of the plastic bag that the passengers goodies were in. So, we got to security like many other travellers and were told we couldn't pass because our plastic bag was too small (others had them too big) and you could buy them 2 for £1 if you wanted to catch your flight (a bit of profiteering?). At Glasgow they had them free sitting beside security but by that time we were all sorted. Another interesting thing on our trip is that going domestic we forgot our passports - but we had photo driver licences that were o.k. - except I was travelling under my maiden name and the name on the licence was not the same - so we went looking pathetic to the airline help desk who printed me another boarding pass after some discussion. I couldn't resist taking a photo of Caramello beside the scanning machine as he always goes through it in our bag.
• an exhibition on transport built for the disabled. An interesting insight into life with a display of tricycles built for those who can't easily balance, wheelchairs - some designed for sport and recreation - others for getting from A to B. The AC car for the disabled was nicknamed the 'wee bluey' and had one seat and the steering wheel in the middle - it was designed to enable disabled people to 'broaden their horizons and socialise' but in reality was a danger to drive, not very good in cross winds and often cornering on only 2 of its 3 wheels. Good idea anyway.
• a cobbled village with old shops (chemist, butcher, Lipton tea shop and old Austin 7's parked outside).
• an exhibition on railways. We think railway and airline food isn't great - but I think things have changed quite a bit. In 1869 Anthony Trollope stated that the railway sandwich was a disgrace and in 1890 a railway passenger purchased a sandwich only to find 'a sandwich composed of equal parts of gristle, fat and sawdust' - I promise never to moan again!! The guide on the tour bus said there was an open top bus bus with a notice asking 'kilt wearing men' not to go upstairs on a windy day' but I couldn't find it so I think he was pulling my leg.
• and a large exhibition of bicycles (velocipedes), and tricycles that 'respectable' woman rode. The oldest bike was made in 1845 they think by a Scotsman and weighed 38kg while racing bikes today weight just over 6 kg (I think mine is closer to the 38kg - my excuse for going slowly up hills). They also reckon that regular cycling keeps you 10 years younger
  and that in the 1800's a 60 kilometre bike ride took heaps of time where a Scotsman in the 1990's built his own bike and did 51 km in less than one hour. We all knew that biking was good for the environment but I didn't realise that 75% of car journeys in Great Britain are less than 5 miles and if half of those were done by bike or on foot we would cut air pollution down by heaps (nitrogen oxide emissions down by 100,000 tonnes, carbon monoxide emissions by 75,000 tonnes and carbon dioxide emissions by 16 millionn tonnes) so Harry and I are doing our bit).

Scotland is also proud of their people - great inventors like John Logie Baird (initially I thought the guide said Yogi Bear) who we have to thank for the tv and various authors like Robbie Burns. I read one of Robbie Burns poems and didn't understand a thing - I did read it a few times to see if it would sink in but to no avail - but all is not lost as he did write Auld Lang Syne. I saw a teatowel with some scottish sayings such as

• fankle - dinnae get yourself in a fankle (twist)
• drookit - fell in the burn and got drookit (drenched)
• yer footering about stope it (muddling through)
• stoppe greetin (stop crying).

And then there is Sir Thomas Lipton, a Glaswegian who made his millions through the tea trade - he didn't drink alcohol - so we wondered it that is where the term teetotaller came from - water so bad if you didn't drink ale you had to drink tea. We did visit the Willow tea room for afternoon tea but at £12 each we settled for a scone and a cuppa. The tearooms was decorated by Charles Rennie Mackintosh for the active temperance believer Kate Cranson who in 1903 wanted somewhere to have tea with her friends. The tea room is above the jewellers shop, as it was many years before and while we were having tea my camera slipped off the table through the iron railings down into the jewellers shop, thankfully missing the display of bone china not far away. I had thought that children would have managed to slip things through but I guess it isn't a place for kids (or me!!). And then there is Sir Walter Scott who bought water to Glasgow in 1872 from the Loch Katrin which we had visited the day before with Michelle and Zane. There is a little fountain in the centre of town commemorating this important event. The motorway tunnel is now underneath this little fountain and due to subsidence it sinks to the right about 1 quarter of an inch a year - Glasgow's own Tower of Pisa. Incidentally the statue in Georges Square is of Walter Scott- originally it was to be King George but before the naming of the statue George had lost the colonies of America and bang went the Glasgow tobacco trade so Walter got the honours.

The peoples palace was opened in 1898 by the Earl of Roseberry - it was built in the what was considered the worst areas of Glasgow for the Glaswegians to have somewhere to go to enjoy - it is now home to an exhibition centre and we saw a photo display of life in the 1950's (a camera club had taken a range of photos of people going about their business eg pushing washing in a pram to the launderette - they tramped washing in large tubs and using the green as a drying and bleaching area, children playing in parks, a football stadium, rubbish collectors - an enlightening for the era). With rationing continuing until 1954 the photos showed what life was after the war and the fortnightly holiday with most Glaswegians going 'doon the watter' ie holidaying somehwere along the Clyde coast.

It told stories of:

• the children evacuated to the country - Glasgow was the recipient of heavy bombing presumably due to its dock and ship yards - a young girl wrote 'We didn't have a suitcase, I took a wee brown poke with a jersey and a pair of knickers in it'.
• the history of retailing in the city with the opening of the first retail store in 1909 and the Buttercup dairy factory. Interestingly it had a list of its commandments which if used today would probably boost the profits of stores. 'Its always worthwhile to serve with a smile, a parcel neatly and firmly wrapped will bring a customer back, cleanliness in handling food cannot achieve anything but good, where the staff is bright and cheery business will be brisk and bright and never dreary, economise in light, paper boxes and string - be careful - do not waste anything, if your customer says it is 'white' it is white because your customer is always right'.
• and of woman working in the war - summed up by this letter to Jamie - 'Dear Jamie - I am sticking in at my work, I will be an engineer before long. There are 25 more women coming in on Monday ... and we are told that the amount of work we do in 3 weeks would have taken the men 3 years and Jamie the men are quite mad at us'.

Outside the museum, is a green house with a few ferns. The notice says it is known as a Dicksonia Squarosa from New Zealand - and I always called it a ponga. There is also the

largest terracotta fountain in the world, a memorial to the 4 british colonies - Australia, South Africa, India and America - what about us I thought!! We then walked along the river back to our hotel to pick up bags and enjoyed the last of our quick trip to Glasgow including passing the number of bridges including the rail bridge with trees growing along the sides and a few of the modern ones.

One good thing about sitting at airports waiting for late planes is catching up on the news and articles I often skip over. There was an article about toilets - a topic dear to many a travellers heart. I have thought for a while that English do toilets well and have wondered whether this reflects the modest culture and their desire for privacy. Certainly some of the European countries we have visited either never clean them, or they don't exist. So, the article started with 'there is a school of thought that a nation can be judged by its public toilets - going by the majority of loos I've used recently, some countries are on the bring of civil collapse' caught my interest. The story goes on that a friend 'after using the loo she avoided paying again by letting her son jump in before the doors shut. But hell hath no fury like a toilet payment scorned and he was thoroughly disinfected when he go stuck inside during the cleaning cycle. Fifteen minutes later he escaped, none the worse for wear but with a brand new aversion to toilet pods.' Funny, I have often thought about avoiding the payment by letting Harry go second - still could - but he might not talk to me if the same thing happened to him.

Another article - was about the weight of bread. In 1266 the Assize of Bread and Ale has meant that no baker in England has been allowed to bake a loaf unless it was 400 grams in weight or multiples of it (not sure how this worked out before metrics came along but somehow the bread industry coped). Harry and I have often wondered why you couldn't get the lovely breads you can buy in France or Italy or New Zealand and now know why. Trading Standards officers would frequently visit bakers to make spot checks on the weight of the bread. But after Friday, bakers have the luxury and we the good fortune of being able to purchase loaves of any size and bakers now can create bread any shape or size just like the rest of Europe.

Only one question remains from our trip to Glasgow- Where have all the pipers gone? Silence is not what we expected or wanted.

Bordeaux

We had booked our weekend to Bordeaux back in winter - when we thought an autumn trip might be just the thing for us. So, after another busy week at work where we went to the movie the Duchess (and regretted it) , I spent a day in Swansea and Harry went to a graduation evening for his students, more doom and gloom on the housing and banking scenes and more airlines going bankrupt (we had a cancellation to one of our weekends in Spain in December) we caught a mid day flight to France and left Bristol in warm, sunny conditions (a rarity so it is worth mentioning) and arrived in Bordeaux to even warmer weather - bliss. After picking up our rental car (Seat Ibiza), we drove to the hotel which was very close to the airport (real cheap, but relatively new and nice. No restaurant but there was breakfast for 7 euros each, though not on Sundays, a pool and a kitchenette another rarity in European hotels). We then drove into Bordeaux - though quite a distance away it was in a straight line so we had no excuse to get lost and we didn't - we even found a car park after circling the block only twice. The car park was underground and built like a huge downward spiral - we parked in number 366 and after walking and eating we drove back up the spiral completely losing our sense of direction!! One very interesting security device was that without a ticket you couldn't access the lifts to the carpark - but if you were desperate I guess you could wander under the gate and down the spiral until you found what you wanted. Bordeaux is a quaint city - 1.2 million people, but spacious and exceptionally clean. We wandered around the town, past the gardens locked for the night, statues and fountains (Fountain of the Three Graces) and along the water front (River La Garonne). It didn't take long as we couldn't understand any of the inscriptions on various statues and so were left in the dark about the history of the city. The river is wide and muddy, quite deep (deep enough for cruise ships to berth and for a barge to carry a wing of an A380 up the river to the plane factory somewhere inland - Harry reckons Toulouse where there as an assembly plant on the same river) and deep enough to drown a skateboard much to a skateboarder's chagrin when he fell off and watched his board roll under the fence. Bordeauxians were enjoying themselves that sunny afternoon and we watched a bmx biker (doing wonderful tricks going upside down with his bike only to land heavily on his seat - ouch we both said but I think he said something stronger), rollerbladers, children playing (grandad had trouble keeping up with a 2 year old), cyclists and people having a drink or an early evening snack in one of the many old converted storage sheds or at Molly Malones (yes - we also found an Aussie pub). Great to see a city out and about on a Friday evening. Except for eating in Bordeaux that was our full extent of our touring around the city because have car will travel. Harry did well negotiating the right hand corners and anti-clockwise roundabouts as I sat in the passenger seat feeling I was sitting on the wrong side and spending most of my time resisting the temptation to grab the steering wheel to ensure we were on the right side of the road (or should I say left?).

And the next day we headed for the beach. First of all we considered sitting in the sun in 25 degrees and having our first swims (yes that is a plural) of the season a bit of waste of money as there is so much to see - but it was so nice, we just kept enjoying the sun, surf and sea air and in the end didn't regret it. Firstly we ventured to Lacanau-Ocean and then a bit further south to Cap Ferret. Golden sand, lots of dunes, waves, sheltered spots, cafes, shops selling sports and summery clothing, postcards and buckets and spades. The photos say it all - and with all that sand and sand bars it made for some interesting photos.

The French countryside is equally as pretty and we enjoyed driving through forest areas (while listening to a range of french and english songs), stopped by a lake for lunch (see the photo of our 'sandwich'), and on Sunday ventured to Cadillac - wine making and corn growing country. Cadillac was a cute little village, cobble stoned, typical cream coloured stone buildings, with cafes and church bells chiming and with that sleepy Sunday atmosphere. We ended up having crepes in a cafe after visiting the chateau. The chateau de Cadillac was firstly a royal residence and then a prison for 'fallen girls' in the late 18th century. It is now being restored as a royal residence but the the magnificent marble fire places, painted ceilings and window shutters (the first type of double glazing I reckon) could not hide the heavy doors with barred windows where many a poor woman was kept in absolute silence - the punishment imposed on the prisoners.

A little wander around Cadillac didn't give the impression of much more to see (after we spied a patisserie for our lunch) and so we drove back and stopped at a 'ancien village' (we interpreted as perhaps something old and worth seeing) and so ended up in Rions - an ancient village built back in 1295, and I think if I interpret the note above the gate correctly, redesigned and rebuilt in the 1330's and again in the 1800's. It was lovely wandering through the town (again rather sleepy and not a lot going on) looking at the houses and wondering what they were like behind the doors and the shutters. The view from the hill overlooking vineyards and corn fields was rather special particularly with some autumn leaves beginning to show. We then drove to a medieval castle, had a quick wander round before we drove back to the airport for the trip back to Bristol. Back in England Harry was delighted to see Wellington had blitzed Auckland and taken the shield and I was pleased to hear that some of the locals were kicking up a fuss about nudity on the Kapiti Coast beaches.

Tall Ships in Falmouth

The week began with the downfall of XL and lots of English holiday makers stranded at destinations throughout the world including the Caribbean and then later on another travel company organising trips to Turkey went into liquidation - so our travels to destinations far and wide may become fewer as the oil crisis hits and demand for cheap holidays is met by fewer airline companies. On Thursday I took a very long train trip to Leeds - 4 hours each way, coming home the train was packed and many people (thankfully not me) had to stand for at least 2 hours. So, Friday night we didn't take off like we normally do - we left that to the early hours of Saturday morning - after a reasonable nights sleep. This weekend we saw England enjoying themselves, it was warmish, windless and reasonably sunny and no rain!! The school holidays were over so it was not quite as crowded as other weekends down on the south coast of Cornwall. Last weekend we saw aeroplanes and birds but this weekend was all about boats and water. The tall ships festival in Falmouth had been on our calendar for a while ever since I saw an editorial on the festival and that the best place to see it was Pendennis Castle. So, with our trusty 'coastal walk book' in hand we took the 3 hour car trip (noneventual) to the coastal town. We ate our sausage sandwiches (almost as popular as fish and chips and bacon butties in England) on a piece of grass to the amusement of locals passing by, before walking into town to view the ships berthed at the dock. We then wandered around the fishing village and read all about the sites eg

• the monument - which has nothing to say what it is and why it is there. We are told that it is built in the memory of one of the most important families in Falmouth - the Killigrew's - but there's is a story of piracy, greed and ambition - so I guess a monument without an epitaph says - there are bits the town would rather forget but its also important to remember the history. The family during the 16th and 17th century were well off - Peter managed to convince Charles II to make the town the Royal Mail Packet Station (for 150 years, this town was the only one where mail came in or left England) and letters and gold bullion were sent from around the world to the town to help pad the bulging family pocket. After Peter's son was killed in a duel the only thing left was this monument which according to legend has two bottles buried underneath which could be a time capsule, but then again might not be.
• on the quayside - very fishy smelling, but cute with its little cobbled alleys down to port side decks and walkways. We looked across to Trefusis Point where in 1814 a government transport ship bringing soldiers and their families back from the Peninsula War (don't know where that war was but one day will find out) was forced onto the rocks and 250 people drowned - this could have been the result of annoying the marine monster Morgawr but one can't be sure.
• on the pier a wonderful memorial to a raid on 26 March 1942 where 600 men left Falmouth on a mission to destroy the St Nazaire submarine docks in Northern France - Operation Chariot. This dock was the only place the German battleship Tirpitz could go for repairs so they planned to blow it and the submarine base up.
• but the biggest highlight for the town was on 4th November 1805 when the HMS Pickle (don't you love the name) anchored just outside Pendennis Point and Lieutenant Lapenotiere landed on the shores and raced to London 271 miles away (36 hours and 21 changes of horses later), he delivered his message - victory at Trafalgar and the death of Admiral Lord Nelson
• and walked passed the Rumbling Tum Cafe - there used to be one with the same name at Paekakariki.

So, a place packed with history...where else to enjoy the ships leaving for the race start but at Pendennis Castle - built by Henry VIII. We sat on a hill with lots of others, watching the boats sail out of the harbour to the start line for their race to Funchai in Madeira (to celebrate the 500th anniversary of the first settlement on the Portuguese island of Madeira - I wonder if the Portuguese celebrated as well as the English at the time). We saw 4 classes of ships sailing, though I did have trouble telling the difference between a 'square rigged' (defined as those vessels whose sail plan is ship, barque, barquentine, brig or brigatine', 'traditional rigged vessel' -those vessels whose sail plan has a predominance of gaff sails, 'modern rigged vessels -vessels with a sail plan that has a predominance of Bermudan sails) - obviously not sailors but we enjoyed it anyway. It isn't often we get to sit down for a few hours, take photos, eat cornish pasties and icecream and observe people and families enjoying themselves. I saw on a seat the inscription 'Enjoy this precious moment' and so we did. To mark the occasion there were a few sky divers dropped off by a helicopter, cannons firing along the harbour (when the cannon at the castle was fired those firing told the crowd to put their hands over their ears and open their mouths wide - I was amused to see how many did actually open their mouths for the occasion). There wasn't a lot to say about Pendennis Castle - it was rather sparse in its buildings and sat on a nice hilltop overlooking Falmouth, the Harbour over to St Mawes and the sandy beach to the West. It took a while to leave Falmouth, as everyone decided to leave before the beginning of the race as the ships were a bit too far away to see. So, we took a detour which could have been quicker if we knew where we were going and enjoyed the countryside and driving passed more sandy beaches.

On the way over to Newquay we listened to a radio interview of a singer, who sounded like Jack Johnson (reduce, reuse recycle fame) and sang like him, but we couldn't be sure as we had missed the introductions at the beginning. Anyway, we'll call him Jack for the purposes of this story. Jack was also a surfer and did the surfing circuit around Hawaii and America and I think Australia. He commented that he was looking forward to surfing in the UK (I didn't really think a surfers paradise but I was proved wrong). On a sunny Sunday morning we explored the headlands and beaches and as we paddled in the very cold Atlantic Ocean and walked over the headland we enjoyed watching the surfers beat the waves and or the waves beating those trying to learn to surf. How long since we had been on a nice beach on a sunny day? Anyway before the walking and the sun, came Saturday night where we stayed in a nice hotel just minutes from the centre of town (with the smallest shower box - even beating those ones in small Paris hotels). Newquay on a Saturday night isn't really a fun place to be - lots of stag do's (these and hen parties tend to take up all weekend rather than just one evening) and we were pleased to be back in our hotel after a nice evening sitting in a pub overlooking the sea and reading papers. We saw the moon - and couldn't remember when we saw it last (sad but true). Newquay Harbour is described as a 'peaceful haven and the town's best kept secret' and it was interesting wandering around the boats at low tide, visiting the fish festival (that fish smell again!!), and clambering up and down the green seaweed steps to the beach on either side. While wandering the headlands we had a competition on 'best wave photo' the winner could cook dinner when we got home - guess who one - I was judging and it was quite a dilemma on my part. Things to remember about Newquay are:

• the house on the island - it looks as though the house was built there after the island was created as the rock looks fairly secure and there doesn't seem to be much erosion around. What a cool place to live on a stormy night with the waves crashing around the island - though walking across the bridge could be fairly hair raising I imagine at times.
• the old life boat house - where the life boat had a very steep descent into the water which was used from the beginning of the 1900's to 1934 and it managed to save 142 people during that time. The waves were beating against the rocks on even a still day so it would have been invigorating and a little bit frightening even for the bravest to launch a life boat in the midst of a storm. Life guards were evident at the beach, and we learnt that black and white checkered flags were for areas you could surf and the red and yellow for swimmers.
• The Huers Hut - which dates back to the 14th century and was used as a look out by a Huer (Hue and Cry I think must come from this) as a call on his horn raised the hue to say that the pilchards were in town (well in the sea in the harbour) and the fisherman would follow the hand signals from the Huer to position their nets.
• We asked at our hotel what the difference between a Cornish breakfast and an English breakfast was and told there was none. Cornish icecream is nothing like the good old kiwi icecream and eating squashed muffins on the beach can get quite messy.
• the beach was wonderful, but the town was right to the hill tops with changing sheds and it does rather spoil the natural beauty of the place. There were steep stairs down from the cliff tops, and at one point we noticed a tunnel which was built for hotel residents to climb presumably with privacy.
• and the war memorial at the top of the hill - now with the first name of a local lad killed in Afghanistan.
  
  

On the way back, we took a little detour to Skern Lodge where Harry had taken his students earlier in the year - but Harry was itching to get back to find out who had won the rugby as we missed the live telecast at the Walkabout Pub (yes another Australian pub) in Newquay.