Burgh Island and Cotehele

Saturday was one of those rare sunny and calm days and so we headed for the beach.  The one that appealed to us was down Portsmouth way - Bigbury on Sea.  Golden sand, rock pools and the tidal island of Burgh - which by low tide is accessible by a very wide strip of sand and by high tide by a sea tractor. We'd seen this island before, many moons ago in an Agatha Christie Poirot tv programme 'Evil under the Sun'.  Art Deco hotel - sitting in the sun on the balcony drinking wine and eating a nice lunch - what more could we ask for? Isn't it funny how expectations so often don't match reality.  The strip of sand and the sea tractor were there but the hotel (incidentally built on the ruins of an old monastery) looked like a monstrosity with more modern buildings planted right beside it.  Not far away was a 14th century old pub which did look more in keeping with the environment.  We marched over the sand (our expectations still quite high), up the hill to find the pub only served 'hotel guests and local regulars' (later we found round the other side a sign that said 'everyone was welcome') and that the hotel wasn't open to people who just wanted to visit for the day rather than pay £190 a night.  We weren't allowed to picnic on the island and had to keep to paths. The hotel looked rather lonely and 'guestless'). We wandered up the hill munching on our french bread (in defiance not because we were hungry), enjoyed seeing the cliffs, a second world war observation post overlooking the clear water, some interesting rock formations (if you are into that sort of thing) and a few birds before settling down on a slip way (on the islands water edge) to eat our noodles, what was left of the bread and bananas.  Then it was back up to the car to change into our togs (a Mr Bean act in the carpark was called for) and back for a nice walk along the river and to the sea for a swim.  Well Harry did go for a dip, if you can call a 5 second up to the shoulders a dip, but I even chickened out of that when my ankles complained of frost bite before the water went above them.  I settled for sitting in the sand making a pool large enough to be a spa bath for the tide to come in and wash away.  Kids watched this rather mad pool building adult and then decided to join in so by the end of the day there were a little row of 'spa' baths along the sand. After settling into the hotel for the night we drove around and found a little pub to have dinner - which would have been really nice if it wasn't for the faint smell of silage and the flies it attracted.

The sunshine lasted but a day and the next day we visited Cotehele in the cloudy, cooler weather with the constant threat of rain.  Cotehele resulted in us spending about 5 hours on our feet, some of it standing while we admired the indoors of the late 1400's tudor house: lots of tapestries (hung to insulate the house - the result very dark); old furniture (some well restored bed canopies); china and armoury;  a chapel clock installed in 1489 - never been moved - no pendulum and faceless so the only way to tell the time was listen for the chimes. The rest of the day was skipping with our umbrellas in an orchard and cottage garden, down the valley to the river Tamar, along the river to the little cafe, looking at the Shamrock (restored boat that used to carry goods up and down the river) and then up another valley to the mill (provides some hydro power to the national grid when there is enough water in the creek) and then back up the hill back to the car. Cotehele was the first house to be donated to the national trust to avoid death duties and set a precedent for many of the existing national trust estate.