Cornwall, Day 1
A few months ago it was suggested that I had a holiday, for 5 four legged reasons we can’t really holiday together so herself suggested that I went with a sterling chap who will remain nameless, he knows who he is, as do most of the folk that will be reading this drivel.
This is my version of the planning stage of the holiday, there is a strong chance that this version may differ, considerably, from the actual conversation.
Me: Do you fancy coming on holiday with me?
Him, Possibly, where?
Me: Dunno, we should have a think about it.
We had a look at the possibilities, the first choice was the Isle of Wight, there’s some historic buildings, some other interesting places and some good places to find fossils, sound perfect. There is, however, one small problem. First the crossing, we worked out that to get on to the isle would cost about fifty quid, the same to get off. The thought of paying £100 just to sail across a bit of water was very off putting, we then discovered that it takes about three hours to cross. THREE HOURS! It takes a cross channel ferry just over an hour to cover 21 miles, how does it take three hours to cross the Solent? We gave up on the Isle of Wight, one day I’ll get there. Next was Dorset, Lyme Regis, Charmouth, pretty much the Jurassic Coast. Sadly a certain someone wasn’t overly keen on the idea of a fossiling holiday, this led to the following question: “Are there fossils in Cornwall?” the answer to this was “no, the rocks are too old!” this was followed by “Cornwall sounds nice”. Actually this wasn’t a bad choice, I like Cornwall, I’ve been there a few times and really enjoyed it so Cornwall it was. A quick search on the interweb found a nice little caravan type thing a few minutes south of Truro and the break was soon booked. Then the months started to drag. March seemed to last forever, Pluto goes around the Sun quicker than April took to get though and don’t get me started on how the first two weeks of May seemed as though time had stood still.
Eventually the 13th of May ended and I headed to the start of my hols. The plan was that we would leave Folkestone at 2 am, this would have us get to Truro at about 08:30. We ate then showered, not together, then tried to get an early night. I was in bed by quarter to seven, wide awake and unable to sleep. I think I may have dozed for a bit but I didn’t get any good sleep.
Before I knew it the alarm was going bonkers and I leapt out of bed, I say leapt, I mean forced myself. A flask of tea was made and the car was loaded and we were off, almost. We needed a short stop to pick up supplies for the journey so we were on our way at about 02:30. We were travelling under a star filled sky and the M20 was virtually empty. 20 minutes later we had the first cuppa. We passed Stonehenge at 05:25, we ran into rain soon after. We had talked for the whole journey and by about 08:40 we hit the outskirts of Truro, an hour later we were tucking in to a long awaited breakfast.
Since we couldn’t check in to the caravan until 14:00 we decided to have a wander around Truro and visit the cathedral. We manage to waste the hours and headed off to the caravan. Fortunately the rain had stopped and the caravan was perfect. By the time we had settled and faffed around we were knackered and decided that an early night was needed.
So day one of the holiday was mostly spent getting to Cornwall and milling around Truro. Spag Bol was the evening meal and some beer was drank. There may have been some Geocaching, Shhh!