The Great Cornish Jammy Doughnut Controversy!

(And other stories from Porthcothan Bay)

4am on a Saturday morning is never pleasant, however going on holiday and getting up at that time makes it just about bearable. The car had been packed to the gunnels the previous evening, so it was a simple case of waking the cat up by turning on the lounge lights (always a fun game, she looked really pissed off!), a quick cup of tea and off we went! We were back home 10 minutes later to get Carols coat that she’d forgotten to pack! I was very good, I didn’t swear, well not out loud anyway.

The journey down to Padstow took just over 4 hours, including a quick stop at Taunton services on the M5 as my Lary needed cleaning out. The drive was by far the longest I’ve undertaken in some time, and was probably a bit too far as when we arrived in Padstow to get some breakfast I was totally knackered and was having problems controlling my breathing. The result was four HME filters used before 11am which is the most I’ve used in an age. The problem was that I’d only bought a limited number of filters down with me, so it meant I was going to have to be very careful for the rest of the week and if possible, wash, dry and recycle used filters. (I’ve since tried this, and it does work so long as you ensure the filter is totally dry otherwise you breath water into your lungs which is a great feeling). As well as my breathing being a problem, my shoulder was also agony as it had been in roughly the same position for the whole drive. Breakfast revived us somewhat, eggs, bacon and wonderful coffee.

Padstow was getting pretty packed by the time we left at 11am. We felt quite undressed without a dog in tow, or having children with posh names wearing shabby chic surf wear in town. A quick trip down to the bike hire shop and we were booked to do the Camel Trail on Wednesday. The journey from Padstow to Porthcothan is only about five miles, but being stuck behind a double decker bus on the narrow lanes made for an interesting trip. At least the bus being in front of us meant that we didn’t have to reverse into any of the passing spaces. We were lucky when we arrived at Carnevas in that our mobile home was ready for us, despite the official check in time being 3pm.

The mobile looked brand new and was placed slightly away from the site, in a lovely location with only seagulls and crows to disturb the peace and quiet. Laura had asked at least three times where the sea was when we’d unpacked and made ourselves at home. I pointed out that it was between the land and the sky, but I think that went over her young head. To satisfy her childlike enthusiasm we decamped down to the beach for a bracing pre-lunch walk on the sand. I love Porthcothan Bay, even after 45 years of visiting the place I still get a tingle of excitement when I walk around the corner of the road and get my first view of the beach.  

Since last year the little shop at the entrance to the beach has changed hands and had a major makeover, it looks really smart these days and still does a wonderful cup of coffee and some rather enticing looking pasties and ice creams. The place must make a fortune during the summer months. I sat and had a coffee on their patio area for 30 minutes or so whilst the stalker and the kids paddled, during that time there must have been over 50 people in and out of the shop. There was also an innovation that I’ve not seen before. On the entrance to the beach were litter pickers and waste bags. Visitors were encouraged to do five minutes of litter picking on their visit. A really good idea as there are still far too many people who think that the mythical “They” will pick up the rubbish they’re too lazy to pick up themselves. 

The rest of the day was really just spent relaxing and getting over our early start. A rather nice Spag Bol that I’d cooked the previous day was washed down with a couple of glasses of Caja Roja then the annual games of Ono took place whilst listening to the England cricket team demolishing the Windies. What on earth had happened to West Indian cricket of late. Malcolm Marshall must be turning in his grave.  

There was one fairly amusing incident whilst I was getting ready for bed and changing my base place over to the Lary tube. The tube of lube looked very similar to the tube of tooth paste. I’ll leave it at that as I’m sure you’re ahead of me here.

I know that at the time of writing I’d not been away from home for even one whole day, but I was fairly pleased with how I was handling things. The morning in Padstow had been a challenge. Being in a strange environment and away from the home comforts that I’ve been used to in caring for the stoma. I’ve learnt that I need to be better prepared and without being too graphic I need to be ready with the tissues and sod what anyone else might think. Soon enough I’ll be back at work. There will be meetings up in London when I need to use the train and the tube. There will be long car journeys when I can’t rely on Carol to pull out a fresh tissue for me or a new HME filter. Simple things like not having my medical supplies to hand in the bathroom mean I have to think ahead of how I’m caring for the stoma. I’m also learning to balance what I need to take out with me when I leave home. Extra HME’s and fewer base plates etc. Getting back to some sort of “Normality” away from being at home is actually a bit harder than I first thought it would be.

Sunday morning emerged grey, windy and a tad damp, as had been forecast. Max emerged grey, windy and also a tad damp, having had a rough night with hot and cold flushes. Breakfast of bacon, sausage and eggs just went to prove he was under the weather as half of it went uneaten. The BBC weather forecast was for the day to turn quite nasty from early afternoon, so whilst it was still relatively dry Carol, Laura and I drove over the headland to Constantine Bay and left Max sleeping off his fever. I hadn’t been to Constantine for a number of years, it really is one of the forgotten gems when it comes to North Cornish beaches. Perhaps not looking at its best of a grey and windswept morning, but miles of golden sand and rockpools to explore hold a certain degree of magic that never fades. A lazy afternoon was spent back at base listening to the radio and reading. Sometimes you don’t actually need to “Do” anything, kicking back and relaxing can be just as good as doing a bungee jump over a crocodile infested river. 4G is a bit of a luxury in this part of the world, at the campsite I can get a very intermittent wifi signal via BT Wifi, usually when I’m stood on one leg and right arm at 75 degrees to the ceiling. So, it was with some surprise when I was stood in the middle of the beach at Constantine that my phone went “Ping” and the elusive 4G symbol appeared. One of the messages received via Facebook was from Sidney. Our early evening was arranged with a meeting on Porthcothan  beach (If wet, meet in the pub!).

For the last few years when Carol and I have been going to warmer climes for our holidays I’ve always managed to get away with packing a minimum amount of clothing. A couple of pairs of shorts, t-shirts, one smart shirt, you get the picture. I think when I was packing for this break I must have been in tropical mode. One hoodie, and one pair of long trousers, other than that I’m in “Hot Holiday” wear. Sunday was cold, and when I soaked my only pair of shoes on the beach I had to spend the rest of the day in flip flops whilst my trainers dried out and stank out the bathroom. (I’ll have to rely upon the comments of others as to the whiff of my trainers as whilst smell is slowly coming back, its working on “nice” smells first). I’m trying to save my only pair of long trousers for our booking at Rick’s on Friday, knowing me if I wear them beforehand I’ll probably fall in the sea! It could well come down to raiding Max’s wardrobe and nicking a pair of track pants.

The roads around this part of Cornwall are generally speaking quite narrow with large hedges blocking off a decent view ahead of you. Whilst walking from the campsite to the beach to meet Sidders we always kept to the right hand side of the road so that we’re facing the oncoming traffic, and if safe we’ll pull right into the side of the road to allow larger vehicles to pass by. We’re careful when we’re walking, I’m afraid that the driver of the VW coming up the hill from the bay wasn’t quite as careful, as when he passed by Carol he managed to clip her shoulder bag which was only hanging perhaps 5 inches from her body. She wasn’t hurt but the driver didn’t even acknowledge that he’d clipped her despite me waving at him as he passed very close to me too! We managed to make it down to the beach without further incident at which point the coastal mizzle came down with a vengeance and soaked us all to the skin! Whilst walking back up to the sanctuary of the pub we saw in the flesh, (or should that be fur?) the only and only Sidney Thompson. I’d mistakenly insulted him deeply last week by calling him a Jack Russel, he’s actually a proud and noble Kromfohrlander (Google the name, interesting history to the breed) a quick hello and we retired to the pub whilst his assistant gave him a quick run around the beach. After around 4 years of following each other on Facebook it was really good to put a face to a name whilst chatting over a rather decent pint of Doombar. Sidney keeps his assistants on their toes but was happy enough to relax sitting on the lap of the #Stalker whilst his dutiful assistants stoke his ears, rub his tummy and risk his wrath by wagging his paw! All too soon it was time for Sidders to disappear for his afternoon tea with his new tennis balls and for his four new friends to make the damp trek back up to the campsite and an evening in the Jolly Rogers eating lasagne, fish and chips and chicken burger and chips! Another early night followed, all this fresh air was doing us good. 

Tuesday was a cracking day, with one small but important blip. The day started overcast but warm. Carol and I decamped to the nearest large(ish) supermarket in search of the elusive Jam Doughnut. I’d had a craving since we arrived on Saturday. The current Mrs C. had singularly failed to satisfy my demands, but had promised that a visit to Tesco’s would be the cure. She lied!! Despite a thorough search of the “So Called” supermarket there was no sign of any jam doughnuts, I couldn’t even find my substitute sugar fix of a custard doughnut! This was surely a conspiracy being played out against me? Had Devon banned the import of doughnuts in retaliation to Cornwall refusing to supply pasty’s? Had the minions at Tesco in Padstow heard I was about to deprive them of all their sugar based pastry products!! I left the “Not so” supermarket only slightly consoled by the purchase of a box of rough Spanish red wine which might possibly dim the memory of licking the sugar off my lips.

The day got better after this AWFUL episode.

The sun came out so we walked down to the beach to catch the lowest tide of the month (Monday was a new moon) which meant we could get all the way around the headland to parts of the beach usually not accessible. A very pleasant hour or so as spent splashing around in the rock pools and generally enjoying the delights of the Cornish summer. I decided I was in need of a refreshing fruit based beverage so left Carol and the star crossed lovers to the beach and made my way up to the Tredrea Inn at the top of the bay. This is the only proper pub in the bay and over the years it’s gone from a really good eatery to a down at the heel dive, or at least that what it had become last year. I’m glad to report that whoever now owns the place has spent a bob or two on it to make it look half decent again. The choice of ale was pretty good, with St Austell’s and Betty’s on tap. When Carol eventually joined me on the decking

 we ordered some lunch, again with a degree of trepidation following the fare we’d been served last year. And again, I’m pleased to say that the food has gone up a couple of notches too. I ordered a tuna and mayo jacket, which was really good, and I can now add tinned tuna to the foods I’ve eaten since Lary came out to play. My only slight moan, and it is slight, is that as well as the jacket spud, the meal also came with potato salad, perhaps an overdose of carbs on a plate. The other real bonus with the pub is that it’s about the only place in the area I’ve found with free WiFi, hence this blog being published from there! The final thing to recommend was the service. Now I know I’m probably fairly easy to recognise these days, I doubt if many customers come in with a Lary. But both the Tredrea and the Portcothan Bay Stores have been really friendly the second time I’ve been in this year. No false “Ah it’s the bloke who’s been ill” bollox, just genuine friendly service that I’m sure comes as second nature to the guys working in the establishments. Max and Laura were daft enough, young enough, brave enough (Take your pick) to go and have a swim prior to joining us at the pub. Whilst it was a lovely, sunny day, I still reckon the sea would have been bloody cold. One of the advantages of having a Lary is that my days as a swimmer are well and truly over, oh dear, what a shame!

The remainder of the afternoon was spent with me proving that I’m the best golfer in the family, including guests, by stuffing Carol, Max and Laura on the pitch and put course, with a rather respectable score of 32 for the 9 holes (Including playing one hole with only my left hand as my right shoulder was by then killing me!). There’s only one thing to do after a game of pitch and putt, that of course is to sit down and stuff your face with a cream tea from Berryfields. This is the sort of place that does exactly what it says on the tin. The A board outside says “One of best cream teas in Cornwall” and who am I to disagree. The service is friendly and quick, and the scones or scones depending on how you pronounce it, are lovely, warm and crumbly. (Not as good as a JAMMY DOUGHNUT!)

As the weather was much, much better that forecast we decided to take an early evening trip up to Trevose Head, this is where the lighthouse is based and views across the Atlantic are truly wonderful on a clear evening

 For once it wasn’t blowing a gale and was pretty pleasant walking up to the top of the headland if you discounted the flying ants that were attempting to bite me to buggery! An added bonus was the availability of 4G 😊 so I took the chance to send a couple of email and update a few status’ It really was a spectacular evening, the sunset had to be seen to be believed, we couldn’t quite see any evidence of the eclipse that seemed to have stopped the USA in it tracks, but by this time stomachs were rumbling so it was time to head back to the campsite and get the pizzas in the oven. An evening spent playing Ono, drinking red wine and lamenting the total LACK OF JAM DOUGHNUTS followed before another early night, punctuated with screams from the shower as sunburnt shoulders and faces met the hot jets of water! I was fairly sensible and only my arms really caught the sun. I did think how amusing it would be if I got a nice sun tan on my face / neck only to have a round white spot where my base plate sticks over the stoma hole.

I’d forgotten how noisy a tin roofed caravan can be when it rains. At some ungodly hour when it was still dark the heavens opened and it threw it down for 10 minutes or so, but by the time we woke around 8am the sun was shining brightly, albeit with a strong wind blowing. It was truly a lovely day. A cooling breeze, bright sunshine and temperatures in the mid 20s, so another day on the beach was in order. When I first started to come down to Porthcothan with my parents some 48 years ago one of the games of choice was for my father to make me run around the beach chasing a tennis ball when we were playing beach cricket. When I was in my teens it was my turn to make my father run around, and then when Max was old enough, it was his turn to chase the balls over the beach. I seemed to have forgotten that I’d recently had fairly major surgery and that my shoulder was shagged when we set up the stumps on the beach. Batting was ok, and it took a charge down the wicket for Laura to bowl me behind my legs, then it was my turn to bowl. What a twat I am at times, I can’t get my shoulder up beyond about 125 degrees at the moment, so why on earth would I think I could bowl a tennis ball? I tried, I failed and it hurt like heck! I spent the rest of the first beach test behind the stumps nursing my shoulder and eventually had to retire hurt to the sanctuary of the pub for an invigorating pint of Betty’s. Lesson learnt, don’t think you’re still 23 and vaguely fit. You’re now pushing 55 and falling apart at the seams!

The rest of the day I felt pretty rough. I’ve probably pushed things a bit far over the first three days of our break. Lots of walking, running around on the beach and probably not enough resting up. We went into Padstow early in the evening with a plan to walk up past the War Memorial and down to the beaches on the estuary. Well I managed to get up beyond the memorial but was flagging big time by the time we reached the beach and needed to turn back and rest up whilst Carol, Max and Laura continued on for a bit further. They went for a walk along the cliffs at Porthcothan after dinner as it was such a mild and clear night, but I bottled out of it and stayed in the caravan to write this blog and rest up.

Originally, before I’d had the operation, I’d planned that Carol and I would go abroad for this break. I’m now glad, with the benefit of hindsight, that we stayed in the UK. Tuesday was really warm and I struggled, I can only imagine what I’d have felt like if we’d been in the heat of the Med or the Canaries.

So, having decided that I’d take things easy, on Wednesday we’d hired bikes to cycle the Camel Trail, will I ever learn!

Luckily Wednesday started overcast and a bit cooler as we arrived in Padstow to pick up our bikes and head down the Camel Trail in search of the legendary, and so far, well hidden Cornish Jammy Doughnut! The plan was to cycle all the way to Bodmin, about 12 miles from Padstow. Whilst the trail was almost pancake flat it was busy with walkers and families cycling when perhaps the children were a tad young to be on their own bikes. The rules of the road prevail, keep left and give way to walkers. Some people needed to be reminded with a quick ring of the bell to get out of the way. The scenery along the way was very picturesque, with the estuary on the left hand side and wooded hillside on the right. Our first port of call labout 5 miles from Padstow was Wadebridge where we stopped off at the Mad Hatters Coffee Shop (No relation to the one I drink at in Reading) for a refreshing cup of coffee and sadly no JAMMY DOUGHNUTS!!! But they did have the best “Art” on top of a coffee I’ve seen in a long while.

 By this point of the ride Carol’s knee was playing up a bit and whilst no doubt she’d have made it the next 6 miles to Bodmin, it was debatable if she’d make the 12 miles back to Padstow. So, we decided that Max and Laura would continue on as far as they whished, whilst Carol and I cycled at a leisurely pace back to Padstow, had a bit of lunch and waited their return. It was whilst lamenting the continued lack of sugar and jam based confectionary that I received a FB message from Sidney advising us to try the Co-op in Wadebridge, so I sent in the #stalker and sure enough for the princely sum of £2.00 she emerged with 5 JAMMY Doughnuts and 5 custard versions! I was a happy boy.

Back in Padstow, with the bikes safely returned our thoughts and our stomachs turned to lunch. Padstow has, unfairly in my view, earnt the nickname Padstein after all the eateries that Rick has opened in the town. However, there are numerous other great places to eat too, which have all probably benefitted from the famous chefs involvement with the town. A new place to us at least is the seafood bar he’s opened up next to his fish and chip shop. It’s very much set out like the champagne and oyster bars you see at airports, with stools set along the counter of the bar and in this case the prep area for the fish. Two stools were dragged up, menu’s perused, and lips smacked. We settled for the seafood platter and a bottle of Muscadet. The platter included crab, oysters, mussels, scallops and prawns, all served with walnut bread and dips.

 Whilst not cheap, it was very tasty. The service from the Irish waitress was just the right side of familiar, and helped add to the ambience of the place. It was good to see families also enjoying the fresh fish, some of the kids can’t have been aged more than five or six, but were tucking in with gusto. 

By the time Max and Laura made it back from Bodmin Padstow was overflowing with people. I think the rest of Cornwall must have been empty, there wasn’t room to swing even a Corn Bunting. I felt quite sorry for the poor delivery drivers who had to drive round to the far side of the quay. It seemed that people were oblivious to the fact that a van was trying to pass them. I didn’t feel quite so sorry for the twat on a mountain bike who was trying to ride through the crowds, I don’t think he was overly impressed when I gave his back tyre a shove when he stopped dead in front of me. Maybe next time he’ll have a bit of courtesy, but as he was dressed in the full, matching lycra outfit, I suspect he’s a born again knobhead who just thinks he has the right to ride where he wants to regardless of other people.

I was really proud of Carol today. I don’t think she’s been on a bike for some considerable time, but she managed the return trip to Wadebridge today with only a sore knee and sore backside! On the way back I left her to it for a couple of miles whilst I sped ahead leaving small children and tandem riders in my wake. I think I said the same when we came back from the Canaries in May, but if Berkshire had a system of car free cycleways I’d be on the bike every day. It feels safe, it’s fun and its damn good exercise.

Needless to say, by the time we got back to the campsite we were all feeling the effects of the day. The young ‘uns disappeared for a “Sleep”, Carol sat on the sofa quaffing a large G ‘n T, whilst I prep’d the sauce for our meatballs and pasta dinner. So much for being on holiday……

This has been the first time we’ve had a whole week in Cornwall for probably over 10 years, normally we’ll just come down for three or four days. We were lucky this year in that we only had the one day of rain, the rest of the time was shorts and sweatshirt weather. It’s good to holiday in the UK, but by god it’s expensive compared to say Spain or Greece. For once I’m not going to moan too much about the cost of the holiday, if it hadn’t been for the staff at RBH I probably wouldn’t have got to get away this year, or for any years in the future. It was quite interesting whilst buying the ingredients for the dinner on Wednesday evening. We went into the Tesco just on the outskirts of Padstow and after fighting our way past the people trying to find the organic humous whilst keeping Hugo and Petunia under control, we made our way to the checkout. The woman who served us was wearing a headscarf to cover the effects of her chemo, she looked at my Lary and a knowing smile was exchanged. The cancer club knows no boundaries, be them geographic, social or economic, Blimey, that sounds so “Up my own arse”, but hopefully you know what I mean.

Thursday wasn’t a great day I’m afraid. I’d had two poor night’s sleep with the Lary tube causing a few pain problems for the first time in ages. As it was our last full day together we’d already pre-planned to go to Boscastle for the morning. Some of you may remember the name Boscastle from the news on 16^th August 2004 when the tow was hit by a cloudburst which had a devastating effect on the river that runs through the village. The river burst its banks and flooded the whole of the lower town leading towards the harbour. At its height the flood waters reached over 8 feet. Cars were washed into the harbour, never to be seen again. Houses were ruined, livelihoods vanished overnight, but somehow or another there were no fatalities, thanks largely to the efforts of the Coastguard Helicopter crews who worked tirelessly through the late afternoon and evening.

The journey from Porthcothan to Boscastle took nearly an hour thanks to being stuck behind a wide and slow moving caravan all the way until the Wadebridge bridge where I could blast past it. I was feeling pretty well jiggered by the time we parked up and had to spend five minutes getting Lary cleared out before we could wander into town.  By the time we’d been through the NT Shop and sat down for a coffee I was beginning to feel rough as a badger’s backside. I was struggling to clear my throat and could hardly talk at all. So, I decided that the only sensible option was to let the others explore up towards the headland beyond the harbour walls whilst I returned to the town to rest up. Luckily there was a pub which had a pleasant beer garden and was serving a pint of local cider, it would have been rude not to partake.

An hour or so later Carol returned and joined me in a pint of fermented apple juice. I was now at the stage where for the first time in about 6 weeks I had to rely upon pen and paper to communicate, I was getting a tad upset with myself too. A quick text to Max and Laura who were touring the Witches Museum asking them to come back and our day out was I’m afraid over. I felt bad about curtailing the fun of everyone else, but I really was feeling rough. By the time we got back to the caravan all I was fit for was a quick bite of lunch and then some much needed sleep whilst the others went for a walk along the cliffs and to the beach.

My mood wasn’t much better in the evening, despite having watched the 20 / 20 TMS 60^th anniversary special. We were walking down to the Tredrea Inn when two lycra clad cyclists came around a bend, heads down and not looking where they were going. They just missed Laura and Carol and took exception when I remonstrated with them. They continued to cycle away which was probably just as well as I was in the mood to knock the block off the particularly gooby shoite if he’d had the balls to back up his stupid attire. Cyclists deserve to be respected on the roads, but they also need to understand that respect will be withdrawn if they act like arrogant cocks. We arrived at the Tredrea with me in a by now steaming mood. A queue of at least 10 people were waiting at the bar with one bar staff serving. A second member arrived, and asked “Who’s waiting?” my croaked  reply of “All of us are waiting” got a giggle from the queue, but she then disappeared into the back of the pub again without bothering to serve anyone. By this point I’d had enough, turned tail, told the others that I was off and walked out of the place. It was back to the Jolly Roger for a lovely lasagne and pint of Padstow bitter. The Tredrea needs to up its game again I’m afraid.

The day really finished on a high as I even managed to get into a stupid row on Facebook on a travel page I follow. I responded to a post that I thought was a bit daft. Instead of turning my phone off I responded and replied and responded and replied. Eventually bed won the battle and a full stop could be put at the end of a shoite day.

Friday was the day that Laura was going back home, she had another holiday to get back for so we dropped her off at Newquay station for the 5 hour trip back to Reading. That left Max and I to help Carol celebrate her 55^th birthday at Rick Steins Bistro for lunch. We’ve been three of four times over the last few years and always had a good meal. This year was no exception, despite a screaming 6 month old baby who’s parents luckily decided that there was no way she was going to stop crying, so the departed without lunch from what I could gather. Carol has discovered a new favourite drink prior to having lunch, it was a Hendricks Martini, a tad dry for my tastes but the #Stalker could have probably downed a pint of the stuff.  All three of us went for fish and shellfish soup as a started, god it was tasty. Max had whole plaice, Carol devilled mackerel and I choose hake with a beure blanc sauce with samphire. Three very different dishes, but all with the same end result, clean plates! A really nice touch was when the puddings came out, Carol had ordered Cornish Cheese and the waitress had put a candle into half a grape as a birthday cake! I declined to sing Happy Birthday I’m afraid 

Reflections –

It’s been a good week. Plenty of exercise, plenty of food, plenty of sunshine. Plenty of hints that I’m far, far, far away from being anywhere near 100%. Being 4 hours away from home by car is probably a better idea than being in a sunshine holiday and having to rely on an E-HIC card to get the treatment that I might need. It’s been great to get back to the Cornwall that Carol and I have loved for as long as we’ve known each other. Our first visit was I think in 1982, we’ll keep coming back until one or the other can’t push the other down to the beach in a wheel chair, hopefully a fair few more years yet.

The next stage of recovery is around the corner. I’ll soon be going back to work and seeing how I manage to cope on a day to day basis.

Finally, I thought I’d give my Trip Advisor reviews of the various eateries we’ve been to in the week :

·         The Basement (Padstow)                                            4* - Great breakfast, good coffee, friendly service.

·         Porthcothan Bay Stores (Porthcothan)                       3* - Good coffee, very friendly service, let down by very expensive pasty’s!

·         Tredrea Inn (Porthcothan)                                          3* (Increased from 1* last year) Much improved, but let down by lack of staff.

·         Jolly Roger (Porthcothan)                                           4* Good quality pub grub at decent prices.

·         Mad Hatters (Wadebridge)                                        5* The BEST coffee I’ve tasted in an age, really friendly staff, very clean.

·         Steins Fishery and Seafood Bar (Padstow)     5* Superb food, great service, lovely location. Not cheap, but you get what you pay for.

·         Farmers Arms (St Merryn)                                          4* Good quality food served in a decent atmosphere with decent staff.

·         St Petocs Bistro (Padstow)                                          5* Love this place. The food was superb as always, staff attentive but not OTT. Not cheap.

As always, thanks for reading.

To Carol, Anna and Max, thank you for making it worth while having holidays. 

To be continued……….

#Shoulder2Shoulder

 NB – All photo’s in this update are from my iPhone as I haven’t had a chance to download from my DSLR yet! They will appear on my s2s Photography page over the coming weekend.