Can you believe I’ve been all round Asia and yet have never been further south in England than Somerset?! Actually, I was taken to a caravan in Cornwall when I was a baba, which obviously I don’t remember, although my poor mother does. Quite vividly. Apparently it wasn’t the best of holidays. My Grandad had to build a trench around the caravan due to the Biblical proportion floods and then sleep in the car as the caravan was only big enough for two skinny ladies and a baby.
But I decided to try my luck again a few weeks ago when entertaining DK’s cousin from Alaska. Everyone should have a cousin in Alaska. They’re the best. So off we took in our little hire car, with no plans and no accommodation booked. And all I can say is, wow! Why do I not come here all the time?!?! The rambling Devonshire moors with their funny mammoth cow things, the rolling fog and the need to put my head through the sunroof and shout “Heathcliiiiiiife!” St Ives was a high point and Newquay a low, low, LOW point. I can definitely recommend going off season. Whilst the weather was bleak, it was England at it’s finest. And we had, what felt like, the counties to ourselves. Superb.