Who would have thought that getting no sleep, leaving the house at 5am, traipsing around a field for ten hours, then packing bags and driving to Cornwall would be tiring?
First task was shopping. A bit of advice for you: Stay away from Truro. Last year we got stuck in roads and roads of traffic, no matter which direction we turned in. This year, we headed to Truro and got there with no trouble, but there was nowhere to park. Plenty of carparks but not enough spaces.
I took Mr C to Dobwalls Adventure Park where we found some small trains and lots of play equipment for the children.
We rode some trains.
We played on some of the equipment.
I don’t remember roundabouts going quite so fast. I came away from the play park feeling more than a little bit queasy. I’m beginning to think that I should stop trying to play on kids equipment and realise that I’m actually an adult.
Mr C spotted some karts and persuaded me to have a go on them, only because they were child friendly and therefore only went about six miles an hour. I still managed to get bumped by the guy behind me though. Everyone else had a great time, I’m the one who climbs out of the kart and gets an apology.
The racing had given Mr C the taste, and he decided he wanted to go and find some proper karts. Cornwall is a pretty good place to do this, and we found a track almost instantly.
A woman came and stood near me in the spectator area and we shared our tales of having to watch our loved ones throw themselves around a track for no apparent good reason. She was particularly worried about her eight-year-old daughter, whereas I thought it was quite a laugh.
Whilst avoiding traffic, we stumbled across the King Harry Ferry, which is a seemingly useless chain ferry that crosses a puddle of water. It was great fun, but I do not understand why it is necessary to be there.
This led us to Falmouth and we decided to use the Park and Float. Mr C has always claimed that he doesn’t like boats and yet now he wanted to ride two in one day. And as we floated (or sped) down the river towards the town, he was pointing out all the speedboats that he would buy if he had the cash. Apparently we are now wanting to buy a boat?
I’ve been trying to get to St Michael’s Mount for a couple of years now. During our last holiday, we saw it from a distance but the tide was out and I wanted to actually go across the causeway and see the castle closer up. This year, despite my lack of ability to read tide tables, and thanks to a little help from my dear dad, we actually managed to get there in time to cross to the island.
Mr C did question why they didn’t just raise the road, and I convinced him that although I didn’t know, wasn’t it cool that we were walking somewhere where the sea had just been?
Next we journeyed to St Ives, where you have to walk down a ridiculously steep hill but it’s worth it if you want the waves at the bottom.
The final few activities included the Model Railway at Mevagissey. It’s enormous, going all the way round a huge room, and so much to look at. Then some crazy golf that wasn’t that crazy. It was actually quite posh with polished rocks and greenery, and plenty of flowers.
I won. He sulked all the way around Newquay Zoo.
This little fella was making his way down the tree, backwards. He looked a little bit precarious, and just as I pointed it out, the raccoon fell out of the tree. He slipped off the branch and landed on the ground. Interestingly, he didn’t land on his feet like a cat would have. He seemed a bit shaken up by it, and I was worried about the poor thing. But when he got up and sniffed around and seemed okay, then I started to laugh.
That was the week. And of course, now I feel like I need a holiday to get over the holiday.