Trip pix
We went to Cornwall for a half-term break, sharing a house with other local twin-rearers about 10 miles inland from Padstow and Newquay. The chat wasn't racey and never overstepped the mark, the fellow residents on the site generally Rags (though colours were much less evident after Barca's victory) and i could only rely on a sparse smartphone connection for people willing to talk about issues. As you would expect with four four-year olds chasing stimulation, nothing much cultural was done but still we enjoyed ourselves as the week got hotter, and the beaches nicer.
The 'Henge looking moody as we drove west on the A303 last Friday night.
After a twatty, highly-avoidable scrape of the car while trying to find our overnighter stop in Wookey Hole (clue: the only hotel in the village looks as if it's a hotel), part deux of our arguably much needed spiritual realignment involved dragging the kids up Glstnbry Tor on Saturday morning, which to be fair they achieved with a commendable lack of moan.
There were a couple of great ruins on the B3274 to St Austell, which we used to get to the Eden Project. I speculated whether they were related to the local tin mining industry, traces of which could be seen in closed off sites and hills all around this area.
At the end of that road and a few more was the Eden Project, where I bottled the canopy walk atop the tropical biome but enjoyed the WEEE mutant creation of old electrical and electronic goods and the Dionysian sculptures of the Med biome. The last pic signals when the children 'became' the lifecycle of their shit as it heads down the toilet and through the sewerage system. That was some educational activity centre they would experience, after a 20-minute queue.
But it was the coast that coaxed us here, and left the greatest impression. Favourites included Crantock's huge bay and caves (though our family pleaded fatigue as our counterparts battled on round the tricky coastal walk), Constantine Bay and the Castle Beach nook round the back of Falmouth. Here you'll see the Bedruthan Steps, Crantock's facilities failing to fend off the impact of the cuts and Polly Joker beach.
The 'Henge again. We stopped off on our way back and peeked at it behind the line, beyond the paying tourists trudging round with the guided tour pumped in through headsets.
The 'Henge looking moody as we drove west on the A303 last Friday night.
After a twatty, highly-avoidable scrape of the car while trying to find our overnighter stop in Wookey Hole (clue: the only hotel in the village looks as if it's a hotel), part deux of our arguably much needed spiritual realignment involved dragging the kids up Glstnbry Tor on Saturday morning, which to be fair they achieved with a commendable lack of moan.
There were a couple of great ruins on the B3274 to St Austell, which we used to get to the Eden Project. I speculated whether they were related to the local tin mining industry, traces of which could be seen in closed off sites and hills all around this area.
At the end of that road and a few more was the Eden Project, where I bottled the canopy walk atop the tropical biome but enjoyed the WEEE mutant creation of old electrical and electronic goods and the Dionysian sculptures of the Med biome. The last pic signals when the children 'became' the lifecycle of their shit as it heads down the toilet and through the sewerage system. That was some educational activity centre they would experience, after a 20-minute queue.
But it was the coast that coaxed us here, and left the greatest impression. Favourites included Crantock's huge bay and caves (though our family pleaded fatigue as our counterparts battled on round the tricky coastal walk), Constantine Bay and the Castle Beach nook round the back of Falmouth. Here you'll see the Bedruthan Steps, Crantock's facilities failing to fend off the impact of the cuts and Polly Joker beach.
The 'Henge again. We stopped off on our way back and peeked at it behind the line, beyond the paying tourists trudging round with the guided tour pumped in through headsets.
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