It’s a sign: Cornwall

As well as the collection of pub signs from my Christmas holiday in Cornwall, I also have a selection of miscellaneous signs to share.

St Just Holy Well

Along a little path from the Church of St Just in Roseland there sits a scheduled ancient monument. It may not look like much but this holy well / spring is likely to have been revered as a sacred site for several thousand years, certainly prior to the coming of Christianity to this area. There is an interesting write up about the site on the Historic England website.

St Just church and bar

This one just appealed for its rather odd combination of holy and alcohol, and I do like these old fingerpost signs.

Farrier and blacksmith, St Agnes Head

You don’t see too many signs for farriers and blacksmiths these days, though I’m sure these traditional skills are still much in demand as sports like horseracing, show-jumping and eventing, as well as riding at pony clubs and on hunts, are still very popular here in Britain.

Cameron Camp Sentry Box, St Agnes Head

As the sign explains, this ‘sentry box is all that remains of a training camp for the 10th Light Anti-Aircraft Battery’. It was built in 1939/40 and was ‘also used later by American troops prior to the D-day landings’. Named after a local landowner, this Second World War camp once contained bungalows, Nissen huts, a NAAFI and a theatre and, though the bungalows were occupied by local people after the war, all but the sentry box have since been demolished.

The Golden Maggot, Mevagissey

This was intriguing! 

It seems there used to a television programme of this name, which consisted of a competition to see who could catch the most fish. 

The winner’s prize was a golden maggot. 

As the sign gives a list a people and their associated boat names, I assume the Mevagissey concept is similar.

John Moor & Son Boatbuilders, Mevagissey

As well as mining, fishing has long been an important industry in Cornwall and fishermen obviously need boats, so there is also a long and strong tradition of boat building. Wooden boats, ranging in size from dinghies through racing yachts to ocean-going trawlers, have all been built in Mevagissey, and the traditional skills of the local boatbuilders were known, admired and sought after around the world.

Chip Ahoy, Padstow

Clever!

Cornish ice cream, Perranporth

Cornish ice cream is traditionally made with the clotted cream they also spoon in great dollops on to their scones and raspberry jam. As my visit was in mid winter I didn’t try any ... just one more reason to return in the warmer months!

Cornwall: Life’s a beach

This was our last day in Cornwall and we had a long journey to come the following day, so we decided to take it easy and just head to the beach for a long walk. As it turned out we visited two different beaches, had a longish walk at one and a shortish meander at the other.

On the way to the first beach we passed a pub that I absolutely had to photograph. The Bucket of Blood is in the tiny village of Phillack, near the town of Hayle.

The brewery website says the pub was named ‘after an old well that was present in the grounds which offered red water tainted with tin from the local mines’, but Wikipedia has a much juicier story. It says this Grade II-listed, 18th-century building ‘is thought to be named after an incident where the landlord brought up a bucket of blood from the building's well, as a murdered smuggler had been dropped there’.

I know Wiki is often full of fabrications but I also know which story I prefer. I wonder if there’s a ghost as well.

On to the beach, and what a glorious beach it was! I’m a bit confused about its name, though. To me it looked like one long golden stretch of sand but on the Visit Cornwall website different bits have different names, starting with Upton Towns, passing through Mexico Towans and eventually becoming Gwithian Towans.

We walked, marvelled at the incredible patterns the water had created in the sand, mooched around the rocks looking at lichen and barnacles, were amazed to see a Red admiral butterfly fluttering along near the rocks (this was the 28th of December, after all), and wondered what was causing the air bubbles being released from the sand as the water ebbed and flowed. This beach is a favourite with surfers and we saw a few eyeing up the waves and getting ready to head out to try their luck. Rather them than me in mid winter, wet suit or no wet suit!

From there, we drove north along the coast and ended up in Perranporth, a nice little seaside town that was full of holidaymakers (and their dogs – so many dogs!) enjoying the sunny day. We found the local bakery and indulged in our last Cornish pasties for a while (another day, another variety, and extremely tasty, too), sitting on a bench overlooking the beach. The beady eyes of gulls and jackdaws watched our every mouthful and crumb-fall but none hassled us. Then we went for a wander down to the water’s edge, and back through the town itself.

It was just after 4pm when we decided it was time to head back to our cottage. Although there were no clouds to create a more spectacular sunset, the sky was just beginning to turn a wonderful soft pink that looked beautiful over the breaking waves. And so the sun set on my first holiday (hopefully, of many) in magical Cornwall.

Cornwall: The Eden Project

I’m sure there are many people who will disagree with my opinion but I found the Eden Project rather disappointing.

I know my visit was in mid winter so we weren’t able to enjoy the riot of colour the gardens must display in full summer but you could still see the structure of the planting, walk the paths, read the signs (well, mostly – some had faded into illegibility or were missing).

I also understand that for those people who have not been lucky enough to travel to tropical places the lush growth of the exotic trees in the Rainforest Biome must seem like a verdant paradise but I am fortunate to have travelled and lived in places where such growth is the norm. I certainly admire the project’s achievement in creating such a lush garden in an old clay pit but it’s been over 25 years since that Biome was finished and it is a controlled environment so you would expect the plants to grow well, just as they do in any greenhouse.

Except for the blasts of colour from the after-dark laser light show, the Mediterranean Biome was looking very dull and barren, with a large area cleared for seating and white-flowering plant displays that I suspect are part of the venue being hired out for weddings and other similar events. (I read a review online where someone complained that they had been charged the full entrance price to Eden only to find the Rainforest Biome was closed for a wedding. I would’ve been angry about that too!)

The Mediterranean Biome did contain some very nice sculptural works that I enjoyed seeing, though I’m not sure a sculpture of two followers of Dionysus tearing apart a live animal is something I’d like to explain to the many children visiting this place with their families.

The Core had some interesting exhibits and displays, with the star for me being the giant nut-cracking machine – I could watch things like that for hours, as could others, apparently. But I also found many of the displays quite static and not as interactive or interesting as the website suggests. Some things were not working, panels on exhibits were broken, and this was the same throughout this project – this version of Eden was generally shabby, tatty and poorly maintained.

I could perhaps forgive that shabbiness if the Eden Project didn’t charge adults a £25 entrance fee. That’s steep, especially when compared, for example, to the world-renowned botanic gardens at Kew, which costs £15. I know that Kew is also government funded but then it does have the largest collection of plants and fungi in the world and it supports world-class scientists and scientific research so it should receive government support.

I get the feeling that the Eden Project is trying to be all things to all people. The website describes such things as The Big Lunch neighbourhood get-together’, ‘Hothouse: our creative leadership programme’ and ‘The Crunch: Food and Drink Initiative’ on the same level as the ‘Redwood conservation project’ and the ‘Eden Deep Geothermal Project’. And they have founded or are involved in projects all around the world, ‘’Manchester Peace Park, Kosovo’, ‘Global school gardening’ in Kenya, and ‘Supporting harvesters through baobab’ in Malawi. I’m sure these are all worthy projects but I do wonder if the project shouldn’t pull back a little and ensure that its site is up to scratch and its visitors get value for their money.

Cornwall: Magnificent Mevagissey

I know it’s no longer fashionable to use alliteration when composing a title for a blog / article / whatever but I couldn’t help myself. Mevagissey is another of Cornwall’s magical, captivating, picturesque, charming and quaint old fishing villages, and it really was magnificent.

Mevagissey is named after two saints, St Meva (or Mevan) and St Issey, who were, apparently, Irish saints who brought Christianity to the tribes of Cornwall, but human occupation in this place goes back much further. Bronze age arrows have been found locally, and the Romans had a camp, named Colonia, at nearby Chapel Point.

The traditional industry is, of course, fishing, with large quantities of sardines and pilchards appearing in regular seasonal shoals along much of this coast. Several of the historic buildings around the walled harbour relate to the fishing industry, and would have housed barrel makers, sail makers and boat repairers, as well as net lofts and basket weavers. According to a sign in the village, in its heyday the pilchard fishermen landed between 12 and 15 thousand tonnes per annum – that’s a lot of fish! At that time, there were up to 30 large fishing boats operating out of Mevagissey but nowadays both the number and size of the vessels are much smaller.

The sign also explained why the narrow streets of Cornish fishing villages like Mevagissey meander circuitously around the harbour, rather than being in any kind of grid pattern. In the 18th century Mevagissey was notorious for being a smugglers’ lair, with brandy, gin, tea, silks and fine lace, as well as tobacco, all passing quietly through, and the suggestion is that the town’s streets were deliberately ‘designed to impede the efforts of the enforcement officers’. Sneaky!

We meandered with the streets, walked up the hill for a panoramic view, walked out along both sides of the enclosing harbour walls, had the obligatory Cornish pasties for our lunch (backs to the wall again so as to deter the gull pasty thieves), and mooched around the gifty shops (still hunting for that elusive present for our cottage owners – great excuse, eh?). It was all simply splendid!

I’ll round off our visit with a couple of pub signs. The 16th-century Ship Inn sports a glorious sailing ship and it has a fabulous story of a resident ghost, a former landlady who protects the inn from flooding. And the Fountain Inn is even older – the building dates from the 15th century, though wasn’t always a pub. The interior still contains evidence of its use for pilchard processing in the 18th and 19th centuries. We visited neither of these places but both definitely sound like they’re worth a visit ... or six! Obviously, I’ll need to go back one day.

Cornwall: The signs of Tintagel

After spending time in Newquay and Padstow, we were racing against time on Boxing Day to reach Tintagel before the light failed: I was hoping for a stunning sunset-over-the-ruins photo but you’ll have to settle for this rather uninspiring sunset over the local parish church instead. You see the days are short in Britain in winter and, because of that, tourist attractions often close earlier, so Tintagel Castle was closed by the time we arrived.

Since we were there, we did have a meander around Tintagel village, partly because we wanted to buy a present for the folks who had very kindly lent us their cottage for the week. Unfortunately, the shops had already shut as well. However, there were some mighty fine signs scattered around, so here’s a rather different look at Tintagel.

This place will forever be associated with King Arthur so, of course, there is a pub called King Arthur’s Arms. We didn’t venture in but it seems from their website that the publican has a sense of humour:

Jerome George Dangar is your host and is a native of Tintagel, he was born and brought up in Tintagel.

Jerome's father, Terry Jerome Dangar, was born and brought up in King Arthur’s Arms.

It is interesting to note that the historical notes of Tintagel record that John Dangar (who died in 1578 ) had two grandsons who both had sons called Jerome and from that time to this there has been Jerome Dangar in every generation except one!

Since names such as Zias, Rychabb and Jease were also chosen by previous Dangars, Jerome had a lucky escape.

Not surprisingly given the number of tourists that flock to this place, this small town boasts more than one pub. Just up the road we found the Tintagel Arms Hotel. The building dates from 1750 and was originally a private home. It has a very attractive pub sign, showcasing the ruins we didn’t get to see.

Another of the many hotels was The Wootons. It has a very minimalist website which tells nothing of the hotel’s history, nor does it explain the sign, which appears to show a crow looking over the ruins. Perhaps Wooton was the name of a previous owner. It’s an ancient surname, dating from Anglo-Saxons times, if not earlier. It’s a combination of the old English words wudu meaning wood and tun meaning settlement or enclosure, so the very first Wooton lived in a town by a wood, which I imagine would apply to 90% of the population in Anglo-Saxon times.

What a shame the Tintagel Toy Museum and Collectors Shop wasn't open – I imagine I might have spent rather a lot of time there and perhaps a little money as well. It is, apparently, a family-run business which, as well as being a model and general collectors’ shop, also houses Cornwall only toy museum, including ‘The Geoff Cann Collection’ of toys dating from the 1920s to the 1980s. I was certainly very impressed with the wonderful collection of old signs afixed to the building’s exterior.

We conclude our tour of Tintagel’s signs with these two rather bizarre offerings. I confess to knowing nothing at all about Spriggans until that day in Tintagel. I knew Cornwall was a magical place but I had no idea it was populated with faeries of all different kinds:

The more ill-tempered cousin of the piskie or browney, Spriggans were especially spiteful to those who offended them. Reputed to be the security force of the faerie society, they stood ready to measure out justice to those who would harm their otherworldly brethren. Some of the punishments believed to have been doled out by the Spriggans were storms sent to blight crops, and the leaving of changelings in place of stolen mortal children. They were most often found in old castle ruins and barrows, guarding buried treasure. Spriggans are described in literature as grotesque, with wizened features and crooked skinny bodies. Though small, they were purported to have the defensive ability to expand themselves to gigantic proportions.

Cornwall: Mummers Day in Stein-ville

Padstow is one of the most picturesque fishing villages I’ve ever seen, a delight of old buildings and a charm of meandering lanes clustered around a small walled harbour basin, this day full of colourful fishing boats. I make no apology for including lots of photos!

For those who don’t know, my rather tongue-in-cheek naming of the town as Stein-ville in this post’s title is a reference partly to the fame – and tourist dollars – that have come to Padstow as a result of celebrity chef Rick Stein and wife Jill buying a nightclub-then-restaurant way back in 1974, and partly because he seems to own half the town!

Nowadays, according to Rickstein.com, you can ‘stay in our 40 guest rooms in Padstow’ or ‘visit our deli, gift shop, patisserie and fishmongers in Padstow’ and you have a varied choice of Rick Stein places to eat, from the flagship Seafood Restaurant to Rick Stein’s Cafe, Stein’s Fish and Chips, and St Petroc’s Bistro. Plus, you can learn to cook the Rick Stein way at Rick Stein’s Cookery School. I’m amazed Padstow hasn’t voted Rick Stein for mayor! Oh, and in case you’re wondering whether or not we tried his produce, all the Stein outlets were closed.    

That's because it was Boxing Day and, also because it was Boxing Day, the streets were jam-packed with tourists and holidaymakers but not so many as to be unpleasant – there was a jolly buzz to the atmosphere, and one major contribution to this buzz came from the mummers. We were enjoying the obligatory Cornish pasty lunch in a local cafe when we saw our first sign of them – a young woman with blackened face – followed soon after by a young man, also with blackened face and wearing a colourful waistcoat, who came to draw money from the cash machine across the road.

As we emerged from the cafe and headed towards the harbour, we heard first the drumming, then the piano accordions. People were gathering – there was a parade! Everyone loves a parade!

Here’s the background from the Cornwall Guide website:   

Every year on Boxing Day and New Year's Day the townsfolk take to the streets once more for their corresponding winter festival, traditionally known as Darkie Days.
Darkie Days form part of an ancient tradition of Pagan midwinter festivals that were until quite recently celebrated all over Cornwall between Christmas Day and Twelfth Night. The festivals centred on the practice of guise dancing (also known as goose dancing), which usually involved the performance of a traditional play (known as a Mummer's or Mumming play) whilst wearing a disguise, traditionally a blackened face, which allowed the players to lose their inhibitions and perform outlandishly in return for food or money. The practice of blacking one's face signalled a contrast to the summer festivals, such as the Obby Oss, during which white would be worn to herald the spring.

Due to the current fashion for political correctness, the name Darkie Day has been deemed inappropriate and the days are now known as Mummers Days. The face painting has also been criticised but, as explained above, this has absolutely nothing to do with race. Personally, I love the fact that local people are keeping these wonderful old traditions alive!

The parade was fun to watch – we saw them pass by twice during our wanders around the town, so I got lots of photos and made sure to add a donation to their collection boxes (in aid of local charities). Except for missing out on Rick Stein's fish and chips, we had timed our visit to Padstow just perfectly!

Cornwall: Nosing around Newquay

It’s fair to say that neither Sarah nor I are women who enjoy nosing around the shops so, although we visited a lot of Cornwall’s towns and villages and did venture in to the occasional gallery or craft shop, we mostly avoided the bigger town centres. Newquay is a case in point. We drove straight through the town and headed for the coast to explore.

Newquay war memorial

This impressive war memorial loomed up in front of us when we parked the car. Unveiled by HRH Prince of Wales in 1921, it was erected by Newquay ‘to bear lasting witness to her sons’ supreme sacrifice in the Great War 1914-1918’ and ‘to the lasting memory also of those who gave their lives in the World War 1939 – 1945’. As well as a list of the names of local people who lost their lives during those two wars, there is also a newer plaque inscribed with one name of a soldier lost in conflict in Afghanistan in 2006.

Fistral Beach and the Boxing Day dippers

Fistral Beach looks like a magnificent place for a summertime swim but, if you look closely at the photograph above, you may just be able to make out figures in the water, a couple in the background and a couple closer to where I was standing. They were some of the mad idiots who routinely venture in to the freezing seas around Britain’s coast for the annual Boxing Day Swim. Fistral does not have an organised swim like Charlestown or Poldhu, where swimmers dress up, the swim is done to raise money for charity, and lifeguards are on hand to ensure everyone’s safety. To be honest, I think these Fistral swimmers were extremely foolhardy!

Little Fistral

Beside the large stretch of Fistral Beach sits Little Fistral, a small stretch of sand between great clumps of upthrust rocks. It may look pretty but, judging by the signs, it’s a very dangerous place indeed!

Towan Head

This headland juts out into the sea between Fistral beach and Newquay harbour, and is topped by a small white octagonal building that used to be the Coastguard Lookout Station. According to a nearby sign, it was previously ‘used by preventative men to keep a watchful eye for smugglers and free traders, engaged in illegal pursuits. Holes in the cliffs were used to hide illegal gains of China tea, brandy, wine and silk, although evidence here suggest smuggling wasn’t common.’ The building still offers a good vantage point for views up and down the coastline.

‘Enforced winter closure’

Towan Head had a very impressive toilet block, larger than almost any other public convenience I’ve ever seen and, from a certain angle, shaped a bit like a submarine sitting above the water. However, there was nothing convenient about it. The doors to the Ladies, Gents and Disabled were firmly gated and padlocked with a sign above reading ‘Enforced winter closure’. What does that even mean?

The Huer’s Hut

From the sign: ‘The Huer’s Hut ... thought to date from the 14th century, was used as a look-out by a huer at the time of the year when shoals of pilchards were expected in the bay. A call on his horn raised the hue and cry alerting the townsfolk to the arrival of the fish. By means of hand signals the huer enabled the fishermen to position their boats and encircle the shoals with their nets.’

Harbour signs

There was another fine selection of signs along the wall of Newquay harbour. I had to ask Sarah what tomb-stoning was but my favourites were the two signs about vehicles, which I decided meant: ‘If you bring your unauthorised vehicle on to the harbour wall, we will push it into the sea!’

Newquay harbour

The now-old quay that protects tiny Newquay harbour is the origin of the town’s current name. A fishing village from medieval times, it was known by the Cornish name Towan Blystra until the 15th century (in Cornish, towan means sand hill or dune and blystra means blown) when the Bishop of Exeter provided the funds to build the new quay to shelter the harbour from the blustery north-easterly winds.