The lord of the estate, whose name I don’t remember, established a hospital for tin miners. In gratitude, they designed and crafted this rather exotic fruit stand of tin, which must be a very high grade because it does look like silver. It is a palm tree, a camel underneath, seemingly on an oasis, and quite beautiful:

Shoes waiting to be polished:

When summoned, you come:

What, you are wondering is this? I will tell you! You see the back of the red chair? That is the seat of the lord (or lady) and the gap between the door and the frame is so that the butler could watch, without being seen, to know when service was required:

Now into the kitchens. On that steam-driven spit, a whole sheep could be roasted! And there were several other rods on to which other animals could be roasted a the same time:

Then, of course, one has to do the dishes in this lead-lined sink:

Sugar was bought is large hunks (two are shown here) and the iron contrivance in front chops off a chunk:

There were a few kitchen items you might not think existed in the late 19th century such as a kind of slow cooker, which was a pot buried in straw, no doubt heated from underneath, a huge ice chest that had a drain in the bottom, and even a primitive pressure cooker.

Now on to recreation:

or perhaps a nice fireside chat:

One feature of the estate that may or may not have been common was a strict separation of men from women, adults from children and servants—also so strictly separated by sex that the male and female servants had separate staircases—and their employers. This was called moral segregation.

In this set-up, the nursery was an extensive suite. There was a large play room, a school room, bedrooms, and quarters for the nanny.

Stella would like these dolls:

I don’t know how much Ellie or Megan would enjoy working with this treadle sewing machine:

Although the children were confined to the nursery, they had a lot of freedom outdoors.

And finally, his lordship’s bath:

Her ladyship had her own.

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Location:Fowey

After equivocating, I did take the excursion to Lanhydrock, the National Trust’s flagship site. Winnie the Pooh lived in the 100 Acre Wood (didn’t he?) Well, Lanhydrock is ten times a hundred acres. It is a l a r g e estate. The exterior of the house may be imposing, but gorgeous might not be the most precise adjective:

Looking at the fifty-two room residence from the upper garden does not improve the assessment:

The growing things were lovely:

Some gardens were formal (shots of the less geometric gardens vanished):

Ivy trained in the form of a cross:

Shots of life inside the manse in the next post. But now, Back to Fowey and its more modest rooftops:

I visited two interesting shops. One had a variety of hand-made items; the other was that of the photographer Ian McCarthy, with whom I spent a while talking. He has photographed animals, mostly birds all over the world, from deserts to Antartica, and has had quite some scary adventures like being charged by hippos. How do you escape? You outrun them!

He displays large prints of his work accompanied by handwritten narratives that tell the circumstances of his taking the shot. It made viewing the photos, spectacular by themselves, a moving and rich experience. I took a few photos of some of the prints. My pictures are not very good and there is reflection from the lights, but you need to see just a couple:

Do visit his website and look at the narratives and view the images….my favorite section was wild birds of Britain and I also enjoyed the few entries in the blog.

A stop at a “deli,” where I witnessed this conversation:

Woman: I’d like a pastie
Salesperson puts pastie in a bag.
Woman: No, not that one. A large one.
Salesperson puts large pastie in bag.
Woman: I also want one of the other ones.
Salesperson puts one like the original one in a bag.
Woman: What do you have for my dog?
Salesperson: I don’t know. What does your dog like?
Woman gives salesperson look of annoyance and looks at olives, peppers, couscous, coleslaw, and finally says, “Give me a piece of that ham.”

She is going to have one thirsty pup!

And finally, a stop in a garden called the quiet garden, which it was.

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Location:Fowey

Fowey is not pronounced “phooey;” it rhymes with “boy” and “joy.” It has a lively harbour:

But first there was the departure from Charleston:

If one goes off the path, up the few stone steps and a little way beyond, one will find a bench, not quite obscured, on which that very one can sit and enjoy the view:

A guy, at least half naked, sleeping in field inside TENT:

In the house, cobwebs not so nice. Outside, another story (sort of like bats):

There were a lot of directional challenges today. It is such a stroke of luck when someone shows up to point out the way, and people tend to be very helpful…when they can. These ducks were a delight to behold among moments of frustration:

After arriving, I had to sort out plans for tomorrow, yet another rest day! I had originally wanted to stop here so that I could walk around the Fowey Estuary, a four mile walk involving two little ferries. However, I changed my mind and will go, yes, by taxi again, to Lanhydrock, a huge estate with gardens and victorian house, and walk around there instead.

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Location:Fowey

First the walk—only eight miles—then the Shipwreck and Heritage Center, and finally, the Eden Project.

The walk was described as very difficult, but it wasn’t. A few big climbs, which are steeper in real life than they are in photos:

Then the museum where I did not linger because it was dark, there were lots of people talking over the recordings, so you could not hear well, it just wasn’t curated all that well, and I did want to get to the Eden Project. Nevertheless, there was much of interest, like this picture of the first underwater diving outfit:

And the first container into which collected specimens were put:

The connection between this lady and the first gas lamps is unclear:

There were a lot of firsts!

On to The Eden Project, a taxi ride away. Inter alia, Eden has these biomes, housing for many growing things according to region:

IMHO There is something of a clash between those domes and the many growing things inside them.

There was art, too:

And a big bee busy as can be:

And a bacchanal:

And kale:

Fleurs:

And a sculpture that is made of things we throw away and is meant to make us feel guilty:

Of a truth, a lot goes on at this project, and there is a huge amount you can learn. One simply has to remember that it is not a garden; it is a project and it is unique.

I would have walked back, a walk of about an hour, only I could not follow the instructions, so I gave in and took a taxi. I must be getting old!

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Location:Charleston

What every garden needs:

Another Animal Farm:

They are really very industrious little critters.

Mother and child:

Portrait of mother:

Portrait of child:

Oh! Those pesky flies:

Oh, Goosie Lucy, you seem to know your fate:

There have been a lot of informative signs along the way, por ejemplo:

but this is the first signless sign. It would have been helpful had it said, “Left to Mevagissey.” At moments such as this, the GPS track-back feature is really a lifesaver!

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Location:Mevagissey

A rest day in order to visit the Lost Gardens of Helligan, an easy two mile walk there and another two back plus many miles on site! The Lost Gardens are, like, well think the size of Central Park only not quite that big, but BIG. Even though I deleted a ton of photos, there may be too many for a post, so there will be an A section for plants and a B section for animals—pretty much.

I hope the information is big enough to read or that clicking on any photo enlarges it. In terms of the process for making the Mud Maid, the use of yogurt was really interesting!

Isn’t she a beauty:

She deserves two shots so that you can see more of her lovely self:

I loved this best!

Sheering your hedges to expose a view:

You MUST read this. You will never think of Douglas Firs again without a tear in your eye:

And here is the Broom, which might better be called a Necklace:

Thisilus giganticus:

Tree with lumps and whatnot:

A charcoal sculpture called Growth and Decay:

Trees before they are charcoal!

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Location:Megavissey

On the way down to the beach in Portloe to start today’s walk:

Oh, I must say that the GPS, loaded with the topo map, even though it is not a high quality map, has been invaluable. The route has not been well-marked for some days, and there have been lots of sections, especially through fields, that are invitations to straying. Occasionally there is signage that is dead wrong….very vexing!

Pregnant Shetland ponies:

Rocks in perspective:

Old and young enjoying the beach:

The harbour at Megavissey:

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Location:Megavissey

To begin the walk from Falmouth, you have to get to a place called Place (honest)! Before you can get to Place, you have to take a ferry twenty minutes to St. Mawes whence you take another very little ferry for about five minutes to the place called Place. Then you begin to walk to St. Anthony’s Head, which is not the same St. Anthony’s where there was the church that lined you up with crossing Gillan Stream. Well, yes, the same saint, but not the same location. Anyway, looking at some web site the night prior, I read that for the next four days there would be no ferry to Place due to the vagaries of the tides—don’t ask—that is what it said.

A choice: 1) Walk at least two hours on muddy, unmarked paths around the estuary or 2) arrange for a taxi to pick you up in St. Mawes to drive you to Place. Out of desperation, I did the latter. The day without the extra two-hours-at-least was already 14 miles (15 according to my calculations).

Couldn’t sleep, of course, worrying about ferries, taxis, and getting to Place, so up at 5:30, which was ridiculous because the one ferry that was running didn’t leave until 8:30. Go down to the pier, which seemed remarkably deserted only to discover that the ferry to St. Mawes had been cancelled, as well.

Not a choice: phone ferry taxi service. “Can you take me from Falmouth to Place?”. “Yes, but it will take an hour to get to Falmouth. And it is an open boat so you will get wet” “OK.” (I am prepared with rain gear that the marines would envy.)

The guy showed up in this cute, little, orange and black inflated raft kind of boat 40 minutes later and whisked me to the place called Place for an agreed upon fee only he did not have change, so he got a nice tip!

Started walking in the rain just before 10:00 (so not my M.O.) and staggered into Portloe at 5:00, quite worn out.

Hung out to dry:

On the way were fields on one side:

BIG beach on the other:

Sheep….from a distance:

You go UP. And it is higher than it looks:

Right near the end of the walk, was the one splash of colour for the day:

Sometimes you need to have your ducks lined up in a row:

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Location:Portloe

Last night’s accommodations were about a mile and a half from the path. Long story short, as it is said (far too often) I did err. I had not realized that I had to go down to and then cross a beach, so I waked in a huge V almost back to the B and B before encountering a dog walker who got me sorted. Of a truth, there was no sign, but I should have studied the map more thoroughly. Once on track, I was rewarded with some gorgeous scenery:

Rain, at times heavy, was promised for today, and wrong the forecast was not. Oh, I was happy to have bought that poncho that doubles as a tent, but the attempted boot repair did not hold up, so I am going to walk in wet boots every time it rains and that’s it. ¡Qué pena!

The beach version of a Zamboni:

Thieves lurk everywhere:

And knavery knows no limits:

Falmouth on the way into town:

In the RAIN, I shlepped to Pendenis Castle, where there are many displays of historical note. The castle was used during the Great Wars, as they are called here, for housing and training troops. There was such a large contingent of US soldiers there that they called it the 49th state!

Here is where a group of…..wait, the table is set for 8, but the hammocks are for six. Maybe two always had to be on watch?

Of course, you want to see a close-up of the meat and taters that was in those soup plates! Lots more gravy in the bowls. Bowls and bowls of gravy!

If you were a high ranking military person, you had your own bedroom:

and en-suite toilet:

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Location:Falmouth

It is good to get an early start:

because it assures that you will escape danger!

The route today was complicated with a number of hard to find turns and such, and these very naughty cows did not help. They were blocking a sign and a gate I needed to see. But you can’t just say, “Look here, Bossie, you may be in my way!”

I was walking like a mad woman in order to reach Gillan stream, which can only be waded at low tide, and the ferry would not be beginning its runs until 12:30….much too late for moi. But make it I did. Took off the boots and put on the little Jambus, and through the water I went:

Here is the little ferry for a different crossing. Cute, isn’t it!

I was glad I hurried because it gave me time to visit the Trebah Gardens, famous for their hydrangeas

It also has a marvelous sub-tropical area. These plants were huge! I was walking amidst them:

The base of a trunk:

This area was called the Bamboozle:

Fact: Some bamboo can grow eight inches a day and reach full height in ninety days.

Oh, Nessie, is that you? Are you visiting from yon bonnie banks?

A giant tulip tree in Glendurgan Gardens, quarantined because its roots had been trampled just too many times. Poor tree!

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Location:Mawnan Smith