Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Get comfy because we’re packing a lot in today! {Which is actually the two last days of the trip.}

After Sennen Cove, my next and final stopover was Boscastle, a small village on the north coast. Because check in time was usually several hours after check out from the previous place, I always had a few hours to play with in between. This time I went to Falmouth.

Clockwise from top left: Falmouth Art Gallery, Falmouth from the Packet Quays, a boat {surprise}

After some getting lost {thanks Millie}, I finally found my way to the Falmouth Art Gallery, and enjoyed looking at the drawings for the Jerwood Drawing Prize that were on display. The rooms looked deceptively dull; it was only when I took the time to get up close to each entry that a little world opened up in front of me. {Life lesson?!} I always find it fascinating to see glimpses like this into other people’s minds. How did they come up with a delicately stitched pelvis, or a drawing of the moon on the base of a frying pan?

Gull and sparkles

Outside it was lovely and sunny, and I ended up at the Packet Quays where I found a bench to eat my lunch looking out at the boats and the buildings lining the water down towards Pendennis Castle.

Driving in Cornwall often looks like this

On the way to Boscastle I wanted to stop at Port Quin and/or Port Isaac, but once again Millie the GPS was a law unto herself and I ended up in the tiny roads of what may or may not have been Port Isaac rather than the car park outside the village. It being Saturday, the narrow streets were full of people milling aimlessly about, and I had to stop and ask some people how the heck to get out of there. In the end I gave up and decided to see them both the next day. Such are the joys {and challenges!} of travelling alone.

The coast path to Boscastle {on the right}

Once I’d settled myself at my new B&B, I followed the coast path down into Boscastle. It’s a short walk and quite stunning the whole way, from the Forrabury Stitches {ancient rectangular fields} and the coastal views, to turning the corner and seeing the village laid out before you in the crease of the valley, with the river running sinuously through it and out to sea.

Boscastle. So pretty it almost feels like a fairytale.

I had dinner {crab! rosé! cheese!} in a lovely old wonky building, and walked back up the hill {with an embarrassing number of pauses} to fall into bed and be ready for the next day, which was my last, and into which I would be packing ALL THE THINGS.

First up, Port Quin. I’d heard it was lovely; I had not heard it consisted of a tiny inlet and about five houses. 🙂 So that was a quick visit.

I felt like a bit of a loser wanting to visit Port Isaac to see Doc Martin’s house, but it was worth it because a} I got to stand outside it which was weird and fun and b} Port Isaac is an actual slice of heaven.

Port Isaac – Doc Martin’s house is the small brown one below the large brown one 🙂

Port Isaac

Port Isaac

I poked around Port Isaac for a while, did a bit of shopping {some unexpected gorgeous little shops to be found in the narrow lanes}, took a bajillion photos, and then was ready to check out Tintagel Castle.

Tintagel Castle – there’s quite a lot of climbing involved

Tintagel Castle is – as you may know – the fabled birthplace of King Arthur. It’s supposed to hold a very strong energy, and certainly the village of Tintagel has capitalised on that and its history, with crystal shops and King Arthur references all over the place. I have to say I didn’t feel the vibes while I was there, but that may have been at least partly because it was fairly busy. What really caught my attention was the views from the castle.

Tintagel views left to right: Merlin’s Cave, the ruins from higher up, the coastline by Merlin’s Cave

Clockwise from left: Lunch in an old castle, ruins, a peep through ruins, steps down from ruins

I also didn’t see the controversial recently carved face of Merlin in the rock near his cave down in the cove, mainly because my legs were like, no dude. Just no. I did climb over both the enormous hills the castle was built on; it used to actually connect the two but has long since fallen away, so you have to climb down one side and up the other. I heard some guy telling his girlfriend he’d counted 116 steps. And that was just one side. Anyway.

Tintagel Church

I also visited the {14th century?} church, which was just lovely, and I even got some time in there by myself.

A moment of peace in Tintagel church

My final stop for the day was Trebarwith Strand. A friend had recommended it to me before I left, and I’d forgotten about it until I saw a signpost, so I thought I’d go and see. I was expecting a nice beach, but it was so much more than that.

Trebarwith Strand

Beaches in north Cornwall tend to only appear at low tide, so I was fortunate to rock up {ha} when I did, as the tide was right out and everything was available in all its glory. It’s clearly popular with families {and the only place on the entire trip where I had to queue to be served}, with its big expanse of sand, gentle waves, and rock pools, some big enough for kids to swim in.

Trebarwith Strand clockwise from left: the clotted cream ice cream that was worth queuing for, a lagoon for the kids {and dogs}, beautiful rock formations, more beautiful rock formations

I spent a good while head and camera pointing down, capturing all the shapes and textures and having visions of paintings flashing through my mind.

Beautiful beach textures

And here are some trip stats, just for fun, and because I like stats if they relate to something not boring. They may or may not all be accurate {apart from the first one, which is}.

Miles driven: 901
Nights away: 14
Cream teas eaten: 3
Ice creams eaten: 1
Airbnbs stayed at: 3
B&Bs stayed at: 2
Hotels stayed at: 1
Historic monuments visited: 3 {+2 seen but not actually gone into}
Natural wonders visited: 7 ish
Approximate miles hiked: 25 {? actually no idea}
Places visited: 20
Days of non sunny weather: 3 {win!}

Trebarwith Strand

And that, my friends, is the end of the trip! The next morning I packed up and left Cornwall with quite a heavy heart. It seems a piece of me is still there even now I’m home, and I’m currently looking into making some changes in my life to reflect the fact that my inner adventurer has reawakened.

The trip showed me a lot about who I am now, which was necessary because in many ways I was still operating as the person I used to be until quite recently {99% hermit}. There is more to me than meets even my own eye! I guess that’s part of the adventure of being human; always more to discover, always more space to expand into.