Holiday Heaven

For anyone who has ever (had the extremely good fortune to have) met me, one of the first things you might notice is that I look like an iron deficient anaemic vegetarian. This is largely because I am. Or at least, I was: my doctor reckons I’m cured – of the anaemia, not of the vegetarianism, much to the disappointment of my omnivorous family. So the vampiric paleness is nothing to do with blood or red blood cells. It is perhaps more to do with the fact that most of my summer holidays have been spent in Cornwall.

Which will probably leave you thinking something along the lines of So why not holiday somewhere other than Cornwall? Jump on a plane, travel somewhere exotic, get a nice tan, and stop your friends making jokes about only being able to look at you with sunglasses on! 

Well, you have a point. (And seriously guys, stop it with the sunglasses jokes). But my answer is a pretty great one. As often as we can, my family like to spend our holidays in a cottage not far from the beautifully sleepy Cornish seaside town of Fowey: to be precise, here.

My favourite place in the world: Polridmouth Cottage, Menabilly.

My favourite place in the world: Polridmouth Cottage, Menabilly Estate, Cornwall.

If fishermen’s cottages, lakes, beaches, woods, hills and meadows aren’t your thing then I don’t think you should read the rest of this post let alone book a holiday here. But for me, this place is an English Shangri-La.

This is where the idyllic summer holidays of my childhood were set, and where I spent a wonderful ten days with my family after my graduation at the end of July. This is the ‘home’ that I ran back to at the end of the sorry tale of the dead sheep. This is where I would live if money and power were no object.

So let me explain (if one picture was not quite enough for you) exactly why I am so in love with this place.

Firstly, for anyone not lucky enough to be staying in ‘our’ cottage, the beach is quite a long way from the car park which means that it is never very busy and for most of the day we have it to ourselves.

Boyfriend and a lot of sand.

Boyfriend and a lot of sand.

And with all that sand, there’s no excuse not to build some awesome sandcastles.

This kid thought our sandcastle was so awesome he helped dig the moat.

That’s right, my sandcastles come with moats.

The lake runs down onto the beach which means a tiny waterfall and lots of fun for dads making dams with the stream.

See? Waterfall.

See? Waterfall.

There are ducks that live on the lake who you really, absolutely, should not feed.

No really, don't feed them.

Boyfriend and I are rule breakers at heart.

There are beautiful cliffs to clamber over and rock pools to be found.

I found this particular one in 2005.

Here is me, age 13, finding a rock pool.

And there are cliff paths with stunning views of ‘your’ beach.

My favourite spot.

My favourite spot.

But remember, no matter how beautiful the scenery, always keep an eye on where you’re putting your feet. One summer an unfortunate walker had to be rescued with an air ambulance after breaking his ankle on the cliff path.

We felt sorry for Dennis but enjoyed the air ambulance landing on our lawn.

We felt sorry for Dennis but very much enjoyed the air ambulance landing on our lawn.

And if you get peckish, my favourite restaurant in the world is just a few miles away. Sam’s On The Beach serves the biggest and best pizza I’ve ever had in England and is, as you might expect, right on the beach front at Polkerris. Spectacular views and an intimate atmosphere make the food taste even better – not that it needs any help.

The pizzas are so big they barely fit on the table let alone the plates.

The pizzas are so big they barely fit on the table let alone the plates.

Order the olives as a starter if you are ever there. There is something magical in the marinade.

To be honest I think there might be something magical in the water off the Cornish coastline as well.

It's (cheese alert) where my heart is.

It’s (cheese alert) where my heart is.

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One response to “Holiday Heaven

  1. Ditto (a number of times).

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