'It's all about making do' says DH - That's camping! the difficulty is in the packing (something He, of course, doesn't get involved with..) i.e. how do you pack the minimum amount of stuff for the maximum amount of comfort (or rather perhaps the minimum amount of inconvenience)??!! ? The trick is to think in sections of the day/night: e.g. the air-bed is a must for getting a decent night's sleep (as are my ear plugs - I'm a very light sleeper)! Tea bags and a kettle (that means (at the very minimum) a small gas canister, a lighter and a pint of milk for breakfast (!). The list goes on... and your car boot very soon fills up; with stuff that you never imagined you would need - but find yourself thinking 'but I can't possibly do without THAT' (e.g. iPod and speakers, (and maybe a bear ...))!!!
We stayed for the first time at the excellent South Penquite camp site which is probably the most unusual of all the campsites we've stayed at all over the world. Briefly - they are a working Organic (officially registered) livestock farm, near to the site of Brown Willy - no really that really is the name of the highest hill in Cornwall, and home to a number of ancient sites of standing stones and stone circles nearby to the legendary Athurian Tintagel. The farmer, Dominic Fairman (very dashing) and his large family are obviously not in it for the money -the camp site is not even half used and then declared 'fully booked' on the sign outside (!) Situated on a glorious southwest facing hill overlooking the unspoilt scenery of Bodmin Moor - you couldn't hope for a better location. No caravans or campers allowed - which also adds to the sense of 'making do': no serious campers here - only proper tents and hikers allowed. On the lower field is the 'Yurts' - the ready-made teepees with integral stoves and camp-beds (the added luxury comes at a price!) The facillities here were OK - nothing special. The showers are solar-powered (so best to get there at the end of the day rather than in the (luke warm, very busy) mornings). No tiles, only (apparently) recycled yoghurt pots as an interior plastic covering to the wooden buldings - maybe more of a gimmick than a worthwhile investment (?). Funnily enough, the new shower block doesn't include a loo block and the although it's lovely to have a large shower cubicle all to yourself (even if it is a coldish dribble of water on offer), it's rather frustrating to have to walk more than 50 feet away to the loo block to find the 3 (cold only) sinks to brush your teeth at (!). The only warm water available is at the washing-up sinks outside the shower-block (strange). Overall - rather an ill-thought-out arrangement - but hey, maybe stage 2 of their investment will include fitting sinks and loos in each cubicle too (!??)
What made up for this (let's be honest, nothing more than...) inconvenience was the excellent location, and general ambience of the place, which was summed-up by the drifting smell of evening smoke from everyone's old-fashioned camp fires (£4 for logs from the farmhouse): something you are rarely allowed on regular camp sites in the UK. Also the daily visits from the groups of ducks and geese and turkeys which went on 'hoovering-up' sessions round the whole campsite, in search of remnants from each group's BBQ. Not sure whether J would have been happy with this lot on top of MY car....
But the quiet sunsets were something very special....
Importantly, there are two pubs nearby (i.e. within biking distance) (nothing fancy you understand, this is a bit of a food-desert as far as restaurant guides are concerned, unless you're self-sufficient): The Blisland Inn and the Old Inn at St Breward - both good in their own way: the Blisland better for friendly service and proper beer - it's not often you see a bar like this any more - low old beams full of old beer mats and glasses, where the locals still have their own designated pewter beer jugs (and the sign behind the bar advertises snuff available at £2) - whereas the Old Inn is a bit more commercialised and situated very high above sea level with marvellous views of the surrounding area and specialises in proper pub grub with a good value carvery on offer on Sundays. Maybe we were slightly biased towards the Old Inn, as we reached it after a long, hot and sun-burnt 25 mile bike-ride (via Bodmin) along the last bit of the Camel Trial that we needed to cover from a previous trip. It was a real effort to climb - in 'top-top' gear (I admit to having to get off and walk a few yards) up the final big hill to the top of St Breward - but well-worth it. The views were amazing! And everyone we met said hello on the way - it was a bit strange at first - but that's the way of these Cornish people. We were glad that the local shop was open too.
Maybe we shouldn't have stopped at Bodmin for quite so long - but J had to see the Lewis sadly lose the F1 at the Weavers Inn . (We were glad to see it's now got new mangement since our last visit and has had a re-furb). Bored, I escaped for a while to have a walk around and visited the Thomas a Becket chapel at nearby St Petroc's church where the gargoyles mark the ancient water spring that once serviced the whole of Bodmin until quite recently. I had a chance there to say a prayer for my poor guilt-ridden Catholic soul and also to have a nice conversation with a local old lady who was busy collecting blackberries from the graveyard hedgerows. She was very enthusiastic in telling me how she had felt so guilty about taking the blackberries to make into useful and delicious jams and pies, so much so, that last week she had taken two made-up jam-jars round to the Old Rectory nextdoor to give to the vicar. Predictably, he had thanked her for her trouble and assured her that she should help herself to as many berries as necessary (and apparently hastily took the jams, mumbling something about the forthcoming Harvest Festival). By the time I had returned to the Weavers the skies had turned cloudy, Lewis had finished 5th, and it was time to set off on the long journey home to South Penquite via Tressaret and the old quarry.
We found some lovely places to buy good quality local food along the way. The best was St Kew Farm shop at St Maybyn, which stocks the famous Blue Mango bakery products - the best organic bread in the UK (OK, maybe I've said that before, but the hot food here is fantastic). The fresh veg selection is also amazing and I didn't find it difficult to quickly spend £30 before our return home on everything from runner beans to fresh coffee (and the chilli chocolate was very tempting too).
The only disappointing aspect of the trip was the fishing. Coarse fisherman probably would be quite happy here, but J's fly fishing was spoilt by the lack of maintenance of the beats and the hot weather. Fish were few and far between and even the ones we saw were tiddlers. I've emailed Angling 2000 with some feeback as we had to pay them to fish these beats in advance. Luckily, I'd brought my sketch-pad and pencils to while-away the many hours in the sunshine while J struggled with trying (unsuccessful) different flies...but later he did manage some success when his kite got into the air a few times over the campsite (much to wonderment of the other campers)...
What I like about this place is everything is very understated...the footpaths and villages are barely signposted and even the excellent nearby East Rose cottage (fishing lakes) have no real clue as their true purpose. The moor ponies at the side of the road (and even the occasional cow) add to the atmosphere to make this place a really desolate but mysterious place. Very peaceful and relaxing. Next time we will try the nearby Temple Fishery which apparently (we found out too late) is the best place to catch yourself a decent brown trout...Although 'next time' now will probably be in the Springtime I guess.......
We stayed for the first time at the excellent South Penquite camp site which is probably the most unusual of all the campsites we've stayed at all over the world. Briefly - they are a working Organic (officially registered) livestock farm, near to the site of Brown Willy - no really that really is the name of the highest hill in Cornwall, and home to a number of ancient sites of standing stones and stone circles nearby to the legendary Athurian Tintagel. The farmer, Dominic Fairman (very dashing) and his large family are obviously not in it for the money -the camp site is not even half used and then declared 'fully booked' on the sign outside (!) Situated on a glorious southwest facing hill overlooking the unspoilt scenery of Bodmin Moor - you couldn't hope for a better location. No caravans or campers allowed - which also adds to the sense of 'making do': no serious campers here - only proper tents and hikers allowed. On the lower field is the 'Yurts' - the ready-made teepees with integral stoves and camp-beds (the added luxury comes at a price!) The facillities here were OK - nothing special. The showers are solar-powered (so best to get there at the end of the day rather than in the (luke warm, very busy) mornings). No tiles, only (apparently) recycled yoghurt pots as an interior plastic covering to the wooden buldings - maybe more of a gimmick than a worthwhile investment (?). Funnily enough, the new shower block doesn't include a loo block and the although it's lovely to have a large shower cubicle all to yourself (even if it is a coldish dribble of water on offer), it's rather frustrating to have to walk more than 50 feet away to the loo block to find the 3 (cold only) sinks to brush your teeth at (!). The only warm water available is at the washing-up sinks outside the shower-block (strange). Overall - rather an ill-thought-out arrangement - but hey, maybe stage 2 of their investment will include fitting sinks and loos in each cubicle too (!??)
What made up for this (let's be honest, nothing more than...) inconvenience was the excellent location, and general ambience of the place, which was summed-up by the drifting smell of evening smoke from everyone's old-fashioned camp fires (£4 for logs from the farmhouse): something you are rarely allowed on regular camp sites in the UK. Also the daily visits from the groups of ducks and geese and turkeys which went on 'hoovering-up' sessions round the whole campsite, in search of remnants from each group's BBQ. Not sure whether J would have been happy with this lot on top of MY car....
But the quiet sunsets were something very special....
Importantly, there are two pubs nearby (i.e. within biking distance) (nothing fancy you understand, this is a bit of a food-desert as far as restaurant guides are concerned, unless you're self-sufficient): The Blisland Inn and the Old Inn at St Breward - both good in their own way: the Blisland better for friendly service and proper beer - it's not often you see a bar like this any more - low old beams full of old beer mats and glasses, where the locals still have their own designated pewter beer jugs (and the sign behind the bar advertises snuff available at £2) - whereas the Old Inn is a bit more commercialised and situated very high above sea level with marvellous views of the surrounding area and specialises in proper pub grub with a good value carvery on offer on Sundays. Maybe we were slightly biased towards the Old Inn, as we reached it after a long, hot and sun-burnt 25 mile bike-ride (via Bodmin) along the last bit of the Camel Trial that we needed to cover from a previous trip. It was a real effort to climb - in 'top-top' gear (I admit to having to get off and walk a few yards) up the final big hill to the top of St Breward - but well-worth it. The views were amazing! And everyone we met said hello on the way - it was a bit strange at first - but that's the way of these Cornish people. We were glad that the local shop was open too.
Maybe we shouldn't have stopped at Bodmin for quite so long - but J had to see the Lewis sadly lose the F1 at the Weavers Inn . (We were glad to see it's now got new mangement since our last visit and has had a re-furb). Bored, I escaped for a while to have a walk around and visited the Thomas a Becket chapel at nearby St Petroc's church where the gargoyles mark the ancient water spring that once serviced the whole of Bodmin until quite recently. I had a chance there to say a prayer for my poor guilt-ridden Catholic soul and also to have a nice conversation with a local old lady who was busy collecting blackberries from the graveyard hedgerows. She was very enthusiastic in telling me how she had felt so guilty about taking the blackberries to make into useful and delicious jams and pies, so much so, that last week she had taken two made-up jam-jars round to the Old Rectory nextdoor to give to the vicar. Predictably, he had thanked her for her trouble and assured her that she should help herself to as many berries as necessary (and apparently hastily took the jams, mumbling something about the forthcoming Harvest Festival). By the time I had returned to the Weavers the skies had turned cloudy, Lewis had finished 5th, and it was time to set off on the long journey home to South Penquite via Tressaret and the old quarry.
We found some lovely places to buy good quality local food along the way. The best was St Kew Farm shop at St Maybyn, which stocks the famous Blue Mango bakery products - the best organic bread in the UK (OK, maybe I've said that before, but the hot food here is fantastic). The fresh veg selection is also amazing and I didn't find it difficult to quickly spend £30 before our return home on everything from runner beans to fresh coffee (and the chilli chocolate was very tempting too).
The only disappointing aspect of the trip was the fishing. Coarse fisherman probably would be quite happy here, but J's fly fishing was spoilt by the lack of maintenance of the beats and the hot weather. Fish were few and far between and even the ones we saw were tiddlers. I've emailed Angling 2000 with some feeback as we had to pay them to fish these beats in advance. Luckily, I'd brought my sketch-pad and pencils to while-away the many hours in the sunshine while J struggled with trying (unsuccessful) different flies...but later he did manage some success when his kite got into the air a few times over the campsite (much to wonderment of the other campers)...
What I like about this place is everything is very understated...the footpaths and villages are barely signposted and even the excellent nearby East Rose cottage (fishing lakes) have no real clue as their true purpose. The moor ponies at the side of the road (and even the occasional cow) add to the atmosphere to make this place a really desolate but mysterious place. Very peaceful and relaxing. Next time we will try the nearby Temple Fishery which apparently (we found out too late) is the best place to catch yourself a decent brown trout...Although 'next time' now will probably be in the Springtime I guess.......