Boscastle, 2023

One of the first shops that you come to when you arrive in Boscastle, even before you start on the long and winding path that eventually leads you to the harbour wall, is a pottery. If, as we did, you get out of your car in the main carpark to be greeted with a light drizzle which has you reaching for the umbrella that you forgot to bring with you, you are very likely to make the Boscastle pottery your first port of call – if only to use it as an alternative to that non-existent umbrella.

But I would urge you on any potential future trips to this tiny village to go into the shop anyway. It’s a family run business and has been for years, meaning that it must’ve recovered from the devastating effects of the flood in 2004, when half the village was washed away in images that were shown around the world.

The people running now the shop now are obviously master Potters and we were persuaded to buy salt and pepper pots by a man with wild white hair and the characteristics of the more eccentric members of Dibley Parish Council. They were all very friendly and it was apparent that they love doing what they do for a living. Gone are the days when the west country shop assistant treats you with contempt as a pesky tourist. (A woman in Padstow openly told me once that she hated tourists. This was many years ago. My only crime was to try buying ice cream from her shop.)

Further along the harbour path was the “Good Stuff” tea room in a rebuilt 16th century chapel/harbour office. No prizes for guessing why it had to be rebuilt in 2006. Again, friendly staff, good food (toasted banana bread!) and an altogether pleasurable experience.

The coffee shops of North London, Manchester and even Newcastle are often frequented by studious professional types who sit on their laptops, writing furiously as if there is a deadline to meet, giving off the air of being important. They usually have headphones clamped to their ears while their Frappuccino goes cold in front of them and their rocky roads are left to the wasps. The Good Stuff was no exception this morning as a woman with a very serious expression, sat at a table and typed as if her life depended on it. It may have done, who knows? But she didn’t fit the profile of every other person in the café, who all gave off a wet but contented tourist vibe.

The harbour is tiny in Boscastle. But the four of us, who were there this morning, really enjoyed the experience. Rio, who was somewhere else with Daniel and Joseph this morning, would have managed to get very wet indeed, as there were a lot of dogs in the water. It’s in a dogs job description to run into water at every available opportunity.

I had a couple of hours to myself this afternoon, as the other members of our party went to sample the wares at the Tintagel Brewery. I watched Jaws, which means I probably won’t be going into the sea when we all go to the beach on Friday as anticipated.

We played games in the evening, sat around the table and testing each other’s abilities, knowledge and ultimately, patience with Blockbuster and Pictionary. Once again, I will tell you that my team won each time safe in the knowledge that no one else will read this blog.

Well, Rachel will, but she won’t drop me in it. She was on my team.

Tomorrow we are going to see how the other half lived at Lanhydrock. You’re welcome to come along too.