That afternoon, my group decided to go to Camden. I decided to tag along because it was supposed to have some neat shops.
After a short bus ride, we were dropped off with the warning to keep an eye on our belongings. It indeed looked sketchy. Entering a nearby market, we became lost in a maze of tiny stalls blasting music. Stores advertised atypical clothing and leather outfits. Tiny restaurants serving Chinese food and pizza advertised their wares, while those who bought food could sit on seats made of scooter chairs along a waterway. One place offered mystical Native American charms, from tribes such as the Inka and Azteka (that's how he spelled it.) It wasn't really my type of place but it was kind of neat. Some stores were definitely stranger than others, but I don't want to go into details.
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| Skettcchhhyyyyy. |
After this interesting experience we went home, because we had to pack for Cornwall.
This morning we got up early and took two buses to Cornwall. After about five or so hours of driving, we arrived in the town of Tingatel. Cornwall is way different that London. London is quite flat, but Cornwall is full of rolling hills, that suddenly give way to rocky drops. The entire area seems to be agriculturally based as well; flocks of sheep, cows, and horses regularly passed us by. They also had huge wind turbines all over the place, slicing through the air. The town of Tingatel seems to have been built entirely out of flat slabs of rock stacked like bricks; both walls and buildings are constructed from this. After grabbing a giant Cornish brunch, consisting of a fried egg, sausage, bacon, fried bread, baked beans, mushrooms, and black pudding (which is groooosssss) we walked toward Tingatel Castle.
The castle was originally built by a Earl, who built it in this area as a way of asserting English dominance over Cornwall. Cornwall itself is very much like Scotland and Wales in that they think of themselves as a seperate country. Historically it was conquered by the Romans, but resisted the Anglo-Saxon invasions and kept it's independence. It eventaully became known for several products, like tin mining, and especially for the Cornish Pasty. This is the European equivalent of a hot pocket. It's bread wrapped around meat, potato and other foods; the nice idea behind it is that you can build it depending on the tastes of the recepient. It also typically holds a sweet dessert at one end; effectively becoming a meal in one, an ingenious treat to the miners who used to eat this. But this region might be best known for the legends of King Arthur. Although he was a myth, many of the stories of Arthur, his round table, and Merlin are associated with this area. In fact, Castle Tintagel is crucial to this legend. Supposedly, this is where Uther Pendragon, his father, conceived his son, and for centuries it became a shrine to those who wished to visit the place where King Arthur might have grown up. This is perhaps another reason why the Earl built this castle here; although it holds no significant strategic value, it might have associated himself with Arthur, since he embodied everything a British king should be. It is thought that King Arthur could have been the conglomeration of several heroic acts by real kings, thus creating a more fascinating legend.
Walking into the site was breath taking. Jagged cliffs hung over the ocean, while waves crashed forcefuly against the slabs of rock. After a brief introduction, we were off, and I could feel my Boy Scout instincts rise from their stupor, filling me with endless energy. I bounded up the steps, climbing every slab of rock and peering over every edge. Although one could see evidence of the presence of humans: a rocky wall, the rough foundations of a building, these ruins had been mocked by nature and reclaimed as her own. This was a wild, untamed land. And it was ruggedly beautiful. I spent at least an hour and a half jumping up and down the cliffs, having the time of my life.
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| I swear I have real pictures. I'll get some as soon as people upload their cameras. |
After exhausting my group, we decided to head to the beach below. There was some gritty sand here, but it was better than Brighton. And better yet, there were some nearby caves. Thankful I had my boots on, I scrambled in front of the group, finding footholds through treacherously slippery rocks and past pools of saltwater, avoiding the limpets that clung to their rocky homes.
After reaching the end of one cave, I found myself face to face with the pounding sea, and after a brief moment of rest, climbed back though the cave and decided to tackle the second of the two. This one was much more treacherous. At a certain point getting wet was certain, the low ceiling was impossible to see, and the floor was covered in darkness. I got fairly wet, hit my head and fell down, but had a blast. Unfortuanately all this burned up my couple hours of freetime, so after I dried my boots a little, I headed back up the hill and got onto the bus to Newquay.
Arriving in Newquay we got setup in our hostels. Hostles are kind of like rented dorm rooms for traveling youth on a budget. My room was about as large as my single dorm at Landis, with five other guys crammed in here. But the hostel was right on the beach which was nice; we could look out our window and see a proper sandy beach, with people surfing below.
Apparently this town is the surfing capital of the UK. We had been offered the chance to go surfing in the next morning before traveling, but I declined. Although I would be curious to try my hand at surfing, I don't want to do it in freezing water. It's very cold here, about ten degrees Farenheit below the temperature in London. Tomorrow we should be headed to St. Ives I believe, and the Minack Theatre.
Today we had a glorious day sleeping in in the town of Newquay. After a leisurely brunch, we hopped on the bus again to continue our Cornwall tour. After a few hours we stopped in the town of St. Ives. This town was built along the valleys and peaks of nearby hills next to the ocean.
Walking down into the town entered into tiny roads lined with small buildings and shops. Bakeries advertised sweets and various pasties, and along the waterfront restaurants sold various seafood. We crammed into a seafood restaurant and I ordered my first real traditional Cornish pasty.
It was pretty good but nothing too fabulous, but I think that goes with all food in the UK.
After we ate, we had to pick up food for the Minack theatre. Being outside, it is encouraged to bring food and picnic, so we picked up sandwiches, crisps (chips), drinks, and a treat from one of the nearby bakeries, before continuing our drive.
Before we went to Minack, we had to stop for pictures at Land's End. This spit of land was the most Westerly point in Britain, and a small computer there tells you how far away you are from any city in the world.
We were about 4,300 miles from Tallahassee, which seemed like a lifetime away. After our quick pictures, we got back onto the bus.
Bus drivers here seem to be psychotic. As I type in this bus, we are lurching around corners, narrowly avoiding cars, and the bus seems to groan through the gears as it climbs each hill. It's actually pretty nauseating, I felt myself go a little sick during the drive, and once we arrived at our destination one girl had to vomit behead a shed.
However, we had finally arrived at Minack Theatre. We climbed down stairs to an open-air amphitheatre.It was built in the side of a cliff with the ocean below.
This impressive piece of work was not built by a team of professional stone masons, but Rowena Cade and her gardener, carving it out throughout Cade's entire lifetime. In the background, the ocean splashed against the rocky cliff, and mountains dropped into the sea in the background. Birds plummeted into the ocean in search of fish as the sun slowly dropped. The stage itself was both composed of original stone-carved props like a table, and one small wooden stage, setup with a table and few chairs. Throughout the play these would be rearranged and pieces would add and disappear in order to create various backdrops. The play itself was The Death of Sherlock Holmes.
The idea of this play came from the life of Holme's creator, Arthur C. Doyle himself. After writing many of the adventures of Holmes and Watson, Doyle became more interested in themes of spirituality, mysticism and fairies. Therefore, Holmes and Watson must solve a mysterious case, stop the evil Moriarty, and save their stories from ending, all at the same time. It was a very interesting idea, and the play was pretty good. It was kind of interesting to see five actors play every role though; many would play four or more roles during the course of the play.
As both the day and play came to a close, we got onto the bus to head to our old hostels in Newquay.
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