Off to Fowey (“Foy”) on the ferry this morning. I had thought it was just like a bus on the water but it turned out to be more like a trip through a wildlife park, what with seagulls, dolphins and seals all over the place. But it was a pleasure to have their company, even if they didn’t quite fancy having their photographs taken.

Our carriage awaits

None of the dolphins responded to the clicking of cameras from us travellers. They would occasionally break the surface of the water to stick two fins up at us, but not one of them presented their best side. Hence my photo of three of them with their backsides in the air.

Dolphins refusing to be papped properly

There was a regatta at Fowey, an annual event which, unlike so many others, hadn’t fallen foul of the COVID limitations. All the sails were brightly coloured and stood out against the green of the coastline.

Fowey regatta

Fowey is an attractive little town, full of quaint shops selling things like fridge magnets, genuine Cornish pasties, outdoor clothing, more genuine Cornish pasties, souvenirs such as prints and mugs, and did I mention genuine Cornish pasties?

It also has a tiny bookshop that I would have loved to go in but it was too small to get around for a guy of my stature under the current restrictions. I thought I’d leave it and go back later, not realising that it closed at 12.30. So I didn’t actually get my hands on a first edition of the local author’s novel, “Rebecca.” And I was prepared to spend big.

Tiny bookshop

Fowey is home to Richard and Judy, of Richard and Judy fame. We managed to get round without seeing them though, unlike the last time I was here, some years ago.

Back across the bay to Mevagissey, where our ferry detoured slightly to ask a couple in a stationary boat if they needed any help. They didn’t, but it’s nice to know that the seafaring community look after each other like that.

Back to Mevagissey, after the dolphins had gone wherever they go later in the day

In the evening we ended up at a lovely little restaurant on the quayside, called Sharkfin. I had a chicken shwarma flatbread which took me back to the backstreets of Damascus, 35 years ago, where they were all the rage and probably still are.

Then an ice cream on the jetty where we watched the sun go down, turning the clouds on the horizon pink and orange. I wish I’d had my camera at that point. I’ll try again tomorrow.