- 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.
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