Month: October 2014

My Birthday! And so what…

So we left Padstow in the morning after breakfast and failing to buy a painting, and sped off to Port Issac, which is supposedly famous for something Martin Clunes does, it’s quite nice, and I bought some “fresh crab”, which I saw he was preparing into shells from a massive Tupperware container with the words “Costco” written on it.

It;’s quite a nice place, and we were very lucky we managed to park in the town, rather than in the “main” carpark, right on the edge. Again though, it was too busy.

After that we came home, got stuck in a traffic jam, opened some great presents and had a ruby murry.

And that was Padstow.

If I ever did go back, which is doubtful it was be in the complete off season. But all in all, I am glad I went, and it is a nice place overall…

Off down to Riksville, which is on the East side of the harbour – where Rik Stein had created his own wood covered community to sell his wares. He has a deli, a fish and chip shop, a fish sellers, and I think a something else which I can’t recall. We wanted breakfast, but there was nothing to be seen.

Back into Padstow proper and we called into the bakery, and I got a Giant Steak Pasty – which like all pasties in the world was far too hot to eat, so I carried it.

Our intention was to travel across the River Camel, and has a little look around Rock – famous for being named after a large stone, so we boarded the ferry and set off to the town of Rock. It wasn’t a town, it was a road, and quite a long one at that, but there was NOTHING there. So disappointing. We expected something, as the online mention had been about great restaurants, and fantastic deli’s and fish shops and … Well its just a road, with some crappy shops along it. Its small.

So after moaning about it for an hour, we headed off West towards somewhere, we started on roads, which got narrow, so we followed a sign stating Public Footpath into a field. With no more signs. They are lying bastards, these people in cagools who put up these signs, deliberately pointing them to muddy, in-escapable fields, where farmers, or wildlife are going to kill you. We followed the edge, saw a stle, followed the edge – then came to a sodding locked gate. So we had no choice put to jump it, expecting the farmer with this gun and condescending attitude to appear at any moment – what we did find was another style. It said, in very clear red and white letters – PRIVATE PROPERTY – no access allowed. Ha! we said, and we nervously climbed over, and spend the next 20 mins in a Mission Impossible style crouch, hiding from golfers and groundsmen. So we were out of the fields, but in a golf course with no idea which was was out, and no Golf club, ball, tee or hat – we were going to be found out unless we took immediate action. So we went to the highest point on the golf course and sat on a bench. Then we ran like baby turtles to the safety of the dunes and sea.

Walking for some more time we got to a place, which had nothing, not even an open toilet, then continued on to Polzeath – where we actually found some pubs, so sat and boozed it up, whilst Kate had cheesy chips and the most expensive brownie in the world.

We walked back along the beach which only took around 45 mins – which was 3hrs 15 less than it took to get out there, we boarded the ferry, quite happy to have left the North Side of the RIver Camel for good (well until tomorrow when we went back).

Back into Padstow, and we had a couple of beers, then went to look at the Italian, and ended up in Old Ship Inn, which I sat sourfaced and drinking coke, with a dry burger.

Another day, another headache.. Nah – actually I felt pretty good in the morning, in was “fall back” weekend, so we got an extra hour lie in for free, which was nice. I almost went down the harbour early to take some photos, but dossed in the house until breakfast in the end.

The harbour was quite quiet by the time we got down, found a little cafe place, and got some meat and bread and tea down our greedy necks, and then it was time for the headland walk…

We walked.

For ages.

Around the coast.

And got to a place with a really crappy hotel/pub.

Then we walked back.

Along the road.

In all the walk was pretty good, the coastline is so similar to Pembrokeshire (and probably all other coastlines in Britain , if not the world), but there were a few neat features, and it was a little blustery, although surprisingly warm. At Trevone we expected to find a great little pub, tucked away in the cliffs, with a roaring fire, and great food – but we didn’t. So we had a quick pint in a real crappy hotel, and then walked the three miles back along the road into Padstow.

Once arrived we found a decent table in the crap side of the Customer House, and spend the rest of the day reading the papers, watching football, eating nuts and scones, and drinking huge amounts of alcohol – good day all round really.

After having too much to drink we went and ordered a take out, and had a final pint. By 8:30 we were stuffing into a Chinese feast for six – even the woman taking our order suggested we had bought way too much. It was really good I thought, but sooo much of it ;o)

So we finally booked into Padstow. We have been talking about this for years, but finally we found a “cottage” and booked up in October Half Term.

On the Saturday morning, we set off around 10, with a slight hangover about the car – and headed off down the M4, M5 and then out into the wilds of Cornwall. Sian had been trying for an hour to get her fantasy football complete on her phone in the car. Unfortunately every time she thought she was complete, the reception disappeared, or the screen went blank. It is a little annoying that connection is so patchy – still first world problem and all that…

As we got to the edge of Exeter, I realised I had run out of road, so desperately got the old Sat Nav on and just before the turning it sprung to life with a “Next Exit you plank”…

After some time, and not a huge amount of traffic we found our selves close by, we decided to detour to St Merryn, as the Times has announced that Rik’s place our there was in the top 25 pubs for something or other – so we tried it, it wasn’t even in the top 25 of pubs I’ve been in, just in Wales, in towns beginning with D, with bar staff called Owen. But actually it was okay, we had mussels for Sian, Sausage and mash for Kate me, and a burger for me Kate. Too many onions in the gravy, meant that my burger moved to Kate, who then found it had too much cheese on it – which it blumming well did – a smallish burger, quite probably really meaty tasting, with a massive dollop of melted strong cheese – mental man.

As I was driving we didn’t stay long, and before we knew it we were slowly driving through Padstow, marveling at the number of people, and tiny streets and looking for the car park. We parked up, and then had a couple of hours to spend, so we thought we would have a look around and see what was what in Padstow. 10 minutes later we were bored, so decided to go for a pint in the first pub on the list the – The Harbour Inn, it didn’t allow children in the bar bit, which was fine because there were some nice comfy sofa’s free, they served San Miguel and the toilets were outside…

After shooting back to the car, then moving it to a longer stay car-park, we loaded ourselves up and walked across the to the new house…

It was pretty good, a litle small, but there wasn’t many of us – you access the place by putting a number in a little “safe” just outside the door, which open’s up to reveal the key, the combination for Malt Cottage incase you are nearby is: 0788.. There are so many rental places, nearly every door way has one of these little key safes. So anyway, now we got comfy in the house, it was difficult to drag our sorry asses out, but strictly came on, so that was an excuse.

Down to the harbour and it was packed, completely autumnully packed, I just cannot imagine how rubbish it must be in the Summer. People everywhere, and dogs, my oh my, dogs everywhere – and I do mean canines. We looked into two pubs – packed, so we wondered over to the other side of the harbour, and managed to secure a table in the Shipwrights for the first of very many Korev beers. We had a couple and um’d and arr’d about food, but in the end had a look into The Old Custom House around 9:00 and managed to nab a table by the door. Straight in with the beer and grub, and as quick as a flash it was fish pie time – yummy.

Back to the ranch pretty early, and to bed – which was surprisingly comfortable.

Today we went somewhere new – to Wenchford in the Forest of Dean.

You head up past Lydney and just after the Cock Inn you turn left. Its a small spot which has a river. We mucked about crossing the stream, and Kate nearly got stuck – luckily Ma, was on hand to create a survival route. We swang and walked. I cannot believe its so hard to swing on a rope after 43 years and an extra 2 stone.

It was pretty quiet except for the obligatory dog walkers, some folk were having a short sleeved picnic as we were leaving.

It was okay. We had a quick pint in the Cock Inn, as it was rude not to.

Woke in the morning, feeling okay considering the previous day, and Phils alarm going off dead early like and dead loud like too.

I went to shower and get sorted, and when I came out of the bathroom, Phil was looking paler than usual (quite a feat) – he pointed a wobbly finger above the exit door. And there was a spider the size of a cat! Arrggghhh.

I must admit I did a little scared dance, hoping up and down and waving my hands about. It was enormous, and it was staring at us. Phil ran away to get showered and I watched the beast walk across the top of the door, in that spidery way they do, the down the other side, then straight at me. I was sweating.

Next thing a shrill scream came from the bathroom “I’m trapped” it pierced, “It’s on the door, I’m stuck”. OMG OMFG OMFMFG I found myself hoping and waving again, and I had lost sight of the first beasty they were attacking us in a pincer movement – I shrank away from the bathroom door, expecting a spider the size of a Rhino to come bursting out at any moment, but also wary of the floor where his mate was stalking me. I heard some scraping and slapping, and courageous Phil came tumbling out “Ah AH AH” he explained.

Anyway, we managed to get out, have some breakfast (which was very tasty, but Phil had a Kilo of free oats and a vegetarian breakfast) and into the car for the next adventure.

First up was BroadWay – the place we didn’t get to the previous evening where we saw a jogger jump up and high five a street sign – what a man. Broadway is nice, especially early when no one is around apart from Mr Sunshine – we even found some toilets next to the cleanest, tidiest play park in the world. After a little wander we decided to head on, it was too early for a beer.

Next stop was Sunny Stratford, last time I was here I ran (well slowly jogged) twenty six miles, and that was the whole reason for this blog. We had a mooch around, almost went up the new tower in the Shakespeare place, but it cost so we didn’t. We were very relieved to see that very sparing use of a cartoon Shakespeare was had around the town. NOT! We listen to a guy talk to a group of people about the town, nearly bought a martmite flavored sausage roll (that will haunt me for ever) and a actually did buy a newspaper. We sat down and had a beer. The we left.

We almost stopped somewhere else, but it didn’t look so good, and Phil was gasping for a beverage, so we headed over ot he sleepy hamlet of Chipping Norton. It looks better when you drive through it.

We arrived and I had a quick look into the dive that was to be our hotel for the night, what a place, scary bar woman/owner and drunks in the bar – drinking beer, at this time. So we went for a pint. Then we went for another and sat outside with a tasty baguette for me, and a crappy ploughmans for Phil – (the spellcheck wanted to change ploughmans to manslaughter, which has a certain ring to it) he actually moaned about it. After beers we took the plunge and checked in, the woman knew what we were about, “the quiors” were shown to their room, and the bar had a giggle. Although they were happy talking about how f&*kin happy they were that Ian Pasley was dead, as we left.

We had a wander around, and its not a fab place, so we sat on a sort of balcony and drank until supper time. When we got in the pub with the with the sort of balcony, they gave us a loyalty card thing which meant we had a free pint after we had 9 or 10 I think. We didn’t really think it was worth while, but Phil knows his onions, and as it happened we filled it by bed time. After some time we set off for the Thai, which looked a bit alright – it was (so she said) packed – but I just think she didn’t like the cut of our jib – so we found another Chinese place, which looked a little iffy. It was iffy, but it used chop sticks, and natty old fashioned 1`960’s chinese chop stick holders and a little bowl to eat your nosh with. I had something sizzly, Phil didn’t. It was quite a find – very good and it was enjoyed.

Back to the balcony in the dark and the free pint, which I was too rich to get, so Phil got it along with another girly coffee, or was it hot chocolate?

Back home, no spiders, and an okay sleep.

Next morning was a breakfast in a 1950’s dining room, which hadn’t been cleaned since then, with a very dodgy looking woman doing some very dodgy cooking and a cat. The food was meaty and greasy – so went down a treat. Phil had a fondant.

Over to Gloucester to be dropped off and picked up.

Massive thanks to Joey the Lips who cared for me so much during the couple of days – it wouldn’t have been the same without him, but then, I wouldn’t have gone on my own.

Good times.