Macross--Thanks, as always, for the kind comments. I promise to post about the laundry soon!

Honiton and Ottery St Mary's--Part Two
 

I totally forgot to share what Honiton lace is! And I should have done so because I myself was totally ignorant of it all until I started researching my Honiton ancestors. And by the way, I was also totally ignorant of all the troop movements in the area during the Napoleonic Wars. You would think as a person who has read and re-read Jane Austen novels (Sense and Sensibility was set just outside of town) and who inhaled Patrick O'Brien's Master and Commander series over the course of one summer, I would have done more relating my past reading to current research. Not!

So here goes about the lace...
You know the Royal Christening Gown worn most recently by Prince Louis? It's a replica of the 178-year-old gown first used by Queen Victoria for her children. Prince William and Prince Harry got to wear the original, which was pretty much in tatters by the time Lady Louise Windsor got her shot at wearing it. The gown itself was made of Spitalfields silk overlaid with handmade Honiton lace by Janet Sutherland who was NOT from Honiton. So why call it Honiton lace? Because of the style.

There are many different styles of handmade lace that evolved over time. And although much of the lace during the early 1800s was actually made in Beers, Devon, the type of lace produced was Honiton.

Queen Victoria probably has not been known as being "progressive", but she pointedly gave a HUGE boost to the struggling economy of Devon by commissioning homemade Honiton lace for her wedding gown, more or less indicating that machine-made lace in the same pattern would not be suitable.

Here's a brief common question link.

Ironically, I made made my own wedding dress in 1979 without ever knowing the dressmaking and probably lace-making in my family history. I used illusion to bridge the high-necked collar and the silk bodice and sleeves, appliqueing carefully trimmed Alençon lace throughout.

thank you so much for taking us with you to Exeter and all the wonderful detail about Honiton Lace, AlessandraZoe. We always used to stop in Honiton on our way to Sidmouth for our fortnight by the sea when I was a child but I never knew anything about the lace, though I've heard about it vaguely since. I love the story about the Evangelical Church and you being proved right - of course. And how amazing that you included lace in your own wedding dress. It must be in the genes somewhere.

I found some on ebay. Just beautiful.

Thanks, Annhig. Ebay, Macross! Fabulous idea.

Honiton and Ottery St Mary's--Part Two
 

So the rain had lessened just a tad. We ran out the door and crossed the street a bit further down to the Honiton Evangelical Congregational Church. The doors were locked and trees covered most of the front, but we were indeed standing in the place where my 3rd great grandmother and her "tallow chandler" husband from Ottery St Mary's were married in 1839.

I could not figure out how my 3rd great grandfather supported his family not only by being a tallow chandler in Honiton but also one for the rest of his life in Bridgwater, Somerset. I read a delightful Wikipedia snippet on the Worshipful Company of Tallow Chandlers and that gave me a better grasp of the situation. England's First Industrial Age destroyed much of the economy of all of Devon, including cities like Exeter and farming in places in Devon, by 1840. And sure enough it was by 1841, the time of the first nationwide census, this young couple and their first child had set up household in Bridgwater, Somserset. I'm going to assume that the building of the Bridgwater and Taunton Canal provided the jobs that had disappeared in the River Otter valley.

Onwards. The rain redoubled in force, and we were running out of time. I had contacted a taxi company before we left to see if they could take me three other churches in the Honiton/Ittery St Mary's area. "No problem" they indicated, "As long as it's before our school runs." Well, we had run too close to the deadline for that. The other nearby family church I thought I'd get to see from the outside, the decaying St Michaels and All Angels church in the Awliscombe, Devon would not be open and it was not walkable from our location. It would require a taxi, and even then, exploring its graveyard in this rain would be impossible.

Off to Ottery St Mary's then to the home of the ancestral "tallow chandler". We drank quick Proper Jobs at a local pub and caught the 4a bus to Ottery. The sun had come out, and we enjoyed the scenery of this very pretty river area. Within a half hour, our time of arrival, the deluge returned. Grrr. Oh well, it was an excuse to duck into another pub, The Volunteer, situated right across from the bus stop. It looked pretty dingy outside, and the front part looked pretty dingy too, but the back area was very clean and bright, and the restrooms were marvelous. I called first dibs on the restroom hike, and by the time I returned to the grungy front, my husband was handing me an Otter Bitter, made by the local Otter Brewery. It had very low alcohol but a truly nice depth of flavor.

The rain had stopped and we quickly walked up the hill to the simply delightful St Mary's Church. Whoever had referred to this as a "mini Exeter Cathedral" was right. It had a glorious hilltop setting, wonderful little gardens, and an amazing history. Because Bishop John de Grandisson had a lot of say about both the cathedral and this church, both edifices contained astromical clocks. St Mary's was still working! There is a plaque dedicated to Samuel Taylor Coleridge because this was his family church. Wow, what a great stop.

Well, the remaining plans for the day were a bust, but we did not feel that bad. We caught the next bus to Exeter, and happily settled in. By the time we got to Exeter City Centre, it was about time for an early dinner. I checked and thought we were near enough to and early enough to try Harry's Restaurant, the place we had to forego two nights before. On our way, I dipped into a organic foods store to pick up nuts and dried fruit, and we got to see another area of bustling Exeter we had missed the previous day.

Yes, Harry's would let us in if we could eat quickly. My husband said "I guarantee we can eat it as fast as you can serve it." Our food came quickly and it was so good! I highly recommend it.

We walked over and down the hill to the Headweir, and started repacking for the next day's jaunt to Falmouth. In the meantime, I checked the few items of clothing I had washed the night before to dry in our very toasty bathroom. They were super dry.

With that in mind, my next blurb will be:
New Laundry Tools!

to be followed by
The Falmouth International Sea Shanty Festival

New Laundry Tools!
 

A general review:
Part of traveling light is learning to make use of hotel sinks for bits of laundry. Because most of our travel for decades was on hiking and cycling trips where heavy socks and biking shorts add weight to the suitcase, there was no way to bring enough athletic clothing for the entire trip without a sherpa. One always learned to do the wash on the first night of 3-night stays to give heavy things time to dry and use the 2nd night of the stay could work for quick dry shirts and underwear, etc.

Well, we were no longer cycling but our packing habits are ingrained. I use labeled Lucite drawers in our apartment to store all our travel items. A month before the trip, I had pulled out the drawer with "Laundry", and dug out the needed blow-up hangers, stretchy clothesline, and mini packets of powdered Tide. Then I hesitated. I'm going to weigh all this, I thought. Well, not that good.

My worry about luggage weight is new. My husband isn't particularly tall--he's 5' 11''--and I'm not "model tall"--I'm 5' 8"--but we both are rather naturally strong. He was the gifted athlete; I was the "workhorse" oldest daughter. For example, it was nothing for me to have a pick-up's worth of gravel dumped into the driveway and for me to to shovel it all within a few hours. Age, though, has been telling us slowly yet loudly, "YOU CAN'T DO THESE THINGS ANYMORE OR YOU'LL PAY". So it's no longer how much I can stuff inside a suitcase; it's "how much can you lift without your body parts falling out of you"?

So I weighed all the laundry stuff and said, "I'm finding a lighter way." Here are my new substitutions for the blow-up hangers and travel clothesline:

(I brought six with me for the trip, and that's just about right; my husband only brought four and realized later that two more would have been useful for one or two of our stays) and
(I think I brought 10 with me)

There are limitations--one has to have the right diameter of hanging bar to make either work, and I do worry about melting plastic with the peg clip pins--but they both served their purpose brilliantly, took up little space (could fit in little gaps in the suitcase), and weighed almost nothing. The unforeseen benefit of the folding clothes hangers was that they were always in use when the hotel did not provide enough hangers. Yep, my daughters, who constantly have to travel for business, are sure getting these puppies, and I'm not waiting for Christmas!

As far as detergent, I left my little packets of powdered Tide (needed in the past to get around the liquids ban in carry-on luggage in the US) at home, carried those purse size liquid ones, and supplemented those with hotel bathroom shampoo/bath gel when needed. My powered Tide is still the very best for getting grimy white socks clean in the sink with a bit of a soak, but since I wasn't carrying white socks, I could have cared less.

It's a fact: now that we're not hiking or cycling, the potential loss of luggage in transit has little power to destroy our entire trip, and thus we're much more willing to give airlines the responsibility. Interestingly enough, though, our daughters still refuse to hand over their suitcases. My youngest was just on a trip to India where her fellow co-workers ended up without their business clothing for two work days; she herself was just fine and dandy. When queried where she learned to pack that way, she laughed, "I had a mother whom I thought was a little off the deep end about packing rules. Who knew she'd eventually make sense to me?"

Next: Sea Shanty Here We Come

Goodness me I want to get in my car now and hie me to Honiton. So many places I've never seen and only on my doorstep!

And while we are waiting agog for your Falmouth section, [well I am anyway] can I share my laundry tip with you? I never bother with special laundry power etc, but simply put the clothes I want to wash in the bottom of the shower and stamp on them as I am having my shower and hair wash. If necessary I can give them a bit more of a rinse once I've finished but usually there's no need. But I like your portable clothes hangers and peg clips and will be ordering some pronto.

Falmouth International Sea Shanty Festival--Here We Come!
 

Yep, it had started pouring once again by the time we exited the Headweir Mill House Hotel. The weather predictions for Falmouth were not great, but they would be better than this muck. We crossed the road this time to make our way back to the station because the sidewalk there, we had learned, was a bit broader. Rain and all, we had enjoyed the rushing waters of the River Exe, and we wished that the weather and our jetlag had not prevented us from exploring further points in and around the city.

After a quick Starbucks at the station, we made our way onto the train, which was rather empty, we thought, for a Friday. The conductors were rather social, and they laughed at my rigged-up luggage solution for what was essentially meant to be a backpack (I guess our luggage needs to be a separate entry). Both guys were interested, though, why we were not the typical elderly Americans renting a car, and they liked it. A couple of the passengers joined in, remarking, "We don't need more of you on the road texting". Isn't that the truth! All were pleased that we had loved Cornwall so much we wanted to come back.

At Truro, one of the conductors helped us off with some of the luggage--we really must have appeared to be feeble--and we invited him to join us on the rest of our journey. He declined, but said he'd see us soon enough (he would!).

Unlike our exit at Exeter St David's, which was EXCRUCIATING not only for us but for other much older and much less able passengers because of a broken lift (my dear husband had ended up transferring luggage for two elderly souls up and down, up and down), the platform south to Falmouth was just a roll-down to the other end. We waited just a few minutes and off we went for the short trip to the Falmouth Town stop. We knew no taxis would automatically be waiting there, but I had pre-entered several companies on my phone before we left Exeter. Abacus and Falmouth Taxis answered right away, and within minutes we were on our way to the Greenbank Hotel.

So we're not renting a car, right? Why did I book a hotel so very far away from the station? Well, we had stayed near the station last year at the Oceanic. It was lovely. We loved the owners. We had a great stay. But when we took our bus from The Moor area down to Helford Passage last year, we realized we had limited by our hotel decision an exploration of the rest of Falmouth, and we were determined to correct that. The Greenbank is at the very opposite end of Falmouth, enjoying a view of the harbor, Flushing and in the far distance, St Mawes.

As our female driver was dropping us off, three people were fighting over parking spots at the Greenbank. And as the festival progressed, we would witness this over and over and over again. While we felt for everyone's true distress, we were grateful that this would not be our worry. We checked in within minutes, were shown to our room, and quickly settled in.

Our room had a balcony with two chairs, although it was still a bit too cold to enjoy it, but the sun was shining and the view was stunning. I quickly took a pic, and sent an email to my sister, who with her husband, had owned a boat and sailed for years on the Chesapeake, with the quip, "Why aren't you here?"

We went downstairs to the Working Boat Bar outside area, and we had two beers sheltered from the wind but with some warmth from the sun. The soundchecks for the first performances of the late afternoon/evening at the Greenbank venue (the real parking area for the hotel) had begun. We chatted with a few dog owners nearby, and they told us, "I've never met an American at this festival." My husband responded, "Surely you met us last year" and they laughed.

We retired to the room to shower for our meal reservation at the Star and Garter. In the meantime, the first groups started performing, and we left our sliding door wide open to hear it. What a way to begin!

Here is the link to the online 2019 Falmouth International Sea Shanty Festival programme.

Annhig,
You are absolutely right about the shower/foot method you have described. It certainly was my husband's preferred method for biking shorts, that's for sure because he would use his for TWO days as opposed to my one. There was always so much sweat (among other crud) gathered in the seams, and I'm sure the "stomping on grapes" method got them much cleaner than some of the modern machines can.

About the Falmouth International Sea Shanty Festival
 

OK, if anyone is reading not from Cornwall, you must be wondering, "Why are you THERE?" A mere year ago, we would have been wondering the same. And yet not only did we book to return for this year but also have made a hotel reservation for 2020.

Last year we had no idea what a "shanty" was. Our lodging owners did their best to explain, and after five minutes, we got it. "Sea CHANTY!" It made sense to me as a bad French linguist: "chanson" means song; the UK translated that to "shanty" and we Americans corrupted the French word to "chanty". We sang them all the time in elementary school, and my father played the less PG versions on his violin and his guitar throughout my childhood. Once we understood what sea shanties were, we were "in" for the experience last year and had hotel reservations made for a return by November 2018.

The festival is designed to benefit the RNLI--the Royal International Lifeboat Association--and the proceeds purchase more than boats. Just think of the cost of boots! Lest you think it's not important to contribute to something like this, think about the role two RNLI ships played at Dunkirk. Now tell me that's not a noble excuse to surround oneself in song and gorgeous scenery while downing endless brews!

The admission, except for one concert gala, is entirely free throughout the three days. The entertainers themselves (I'll have to count how many groups on the program) donate their time to perform at least twice in so many different venues throughout the town. Tom Lewis, who is famous for writing so many of the shanties one would hear throughout the festival, came in. This year, in just a month or two before the festival, the famous Fisherman's Friends announced that they would appear. Groups not only from the UK but also from the Republic of Ireland and Brittany, France appeared.

The festival has greatly exponentially expanded. It was not long ago that the word "international" was not part of the title. And the number of venues likewise have expanded. The Greenbank's stage area was much smaller last year; this year, unbeknownst to us when we made our reservations, the marquee took up the entire docking area's parking lot.

Next: More about our Falmouth Adventures

Thursdays--I came to the same conclusion re most of my wash with the bath gels. If I was lucky enough to get a bathtub anywhere, I'd take a soak and do my wash at the same time. We once had biking guides who told us that if they were lucky enough to get a tub, they'd just climb in it without taking off their duds first, do a scrub, then peel off, drain the tub, and then take a real bath.

As to socks, as a result of our trip to New Zealand, I now wear Smartwool ankle socks with my sneakers. They look dreadful with shorts, but believe me, there was never a call for shorts on this trip. The Smartwool keeps feet cool in hot weather and warm in wet but doesn't retain odor like other "smart" fabrics, and I use lightweight ones that dry very, very easily.

This trip, though, we handed over our wash our first morning in Falmouth. My husband's unwashed duds had added up, we were starting to distrust our rain-soaked items from our day in Honiton, and 15 pounds for a stuffed-to-the-max bag that would allow us to enjoy everything about our Falmouth stay seemed to be a wise use of our time.

The admission, except for one concert gala, is entirely free throughout the three days. The entertainers themselves (I'll have to count how many groups on the program) donate their time to perform at least twice in so many different venues throughout the town. T>>

There were well over 50 groups this year, AlessandraZoe, and they generally do 3 sets a day. DS and his group the Falmouth Fish Sea Shanty Collective or "the Fish" for short performed in such venues as a dive bar down hear Events Square, [actually they were allowed to perform in the garden as it was quite hot and gloomy downstairs], a pub right up at the top of Jacob's Ladder in the centre of Falmouth, and a pub opposite the Prince of Wales pier which is where DD and I caught up with them. If you'd stayed down at the Greenbank, you might have heard the DH of a good friend of mine, who sings with a group called "Rum and Shrub" which is the name of a very old fashioned Cornish drink, "shrub" being an alcoholic fruit cordial used by smugglers to cover up the taste of any sea water that might have found its way into their precious cargo. Allegedly.

Nice choice of hotel, BTW. DH and i held our 30th wedding anniversary party there and several of us stayed overnight afterwards. We were pretty impressed and still go back quite often for drinks and meals though I wouldn't dream of doing so during the Shanty Festival, Interesting how you worked out what Shanty meant!

Did you come across "Betty" on your travels? "She" is a chap who dresses up as the infamous Betty Stogs to raise money for a local Children's Hospice and the RNLI [stands for Royal National Lifeboat Institute] and has raised an amazing amount for local charities over the years.

This trip report has really caught my interest. My DH hates driving so I have to do all of the driving when we travel. I have driven on the left a few times and I can do it but I find traveling to be far more relaxing when I'm not driving, regardless of which side of the road I'm on. This has made me re-think the idea that we must drive to get to out of the way places.

More Sea Shanty Festival in Falmouth
 

Thanks for adding the additional information, Annhig. We saw "Betty" often all over town.

The Star and Garter where we had dinner Friday night was darn near The Greenbank. If you go to that link, the table and view seen on the home page was ours! The meal was OK. I'd say the menu was not "us" but the food was prepared very well and we loved our servers at this place. Even better, they served us the West Coast Session IPA from the local Firebrand Brewing House. Excellent!

We returned to the hotel and the festival venue outside was in full swing. We opened our windows and "audited" the night's concert as we drifted off to sleep.

The next day we had a wonderful breakfast and mapped out our day. I had studied the online festival program the weeks before the trip and made notes of "the vitals". Today's mission was to see The Fisherman's Friends at the Skinner's Stage area near the Maritime Museum at 1 pm, hear them again back at the other end of town at our hotel at 4:45 pm, and attend The Gala at the Poly at 7 pm. In between, I wanted to check out the local art museum and if possible, take the ferry to St Mawes and hike a little.

We were off! We headed toward The Moor area for the Falmouth Art Gallery. While many visitors have rated this place highly, the temporary exhibits in the small space meant we could not see any of their permanent collection. DARN--I had so looked forward to some of that work. Disappointed, we headed down to the Prince of Wales dock to check out ferry times to St. Mawes. We had just missed a sailing by 5 minutes. I was starting to feel like those people in Disney World who arrive without a plan of action.

We decided we had to commit to the next trip and bought two return tickets. The ferry boat kiosk manager said, "Can you run? If you can, you can make the next sailing down at the Customs Wharf", which is at the other end of town. And again, we were off. We made it just in time to watch passengers disembark. And to our delight, it became "Westies on Parade". A total of 8 Westies had made their way up to the dock! One of the owners explained he did not know the other people and could not believe that all of them were on the same boat. We told him we had just lost our Westie at age 16 in January and were still grieving. We would see many, many more in Falmouth over the weekend, so we would get our Westie fix.

The St Mawe's Ferry was a pretty trip, especially because so many boats and ships had come into the harbor area for the festival and the sun was peaking through. But as soon as we landed, a bit of rain started once again. Oh well, back to the layers out of the backpack. We dipped into the pub/cafe part of the St Mawes Hotel, where the staff kept us in stitches. The heck with the hiking. The heck with the rain. We had a couple of pints in good company.

The ferry ride back was miserable in weather but also very fun in company. And we arrived back in the dock just in time to get to the Skinner's Stage for the Fisherman's Friends. The crowd was packed in tighter than sardines, but we found an area from which we could listen. They were so good. At the end, we quickly left, darting our way through the people fighting again over parking spaces in the lot. As we made our way back towards the Greenbank, we'd stop in at various venues for quick listens. Once we reached the Star and Garter, our dear servers poured us our Firebrand drafts and got us a Ploughman's Lunch. That hit the spot.

As we climbed to our hotel, we were stunned by the number of people gathering on the hillside. Once again, the Fisherman's Friends would be drawing an amazing crowd. We went straight to our room, although in doing so, we were skirting the cocktail hour of a wedding. In our room, we pulled our chairs to the edge of the balcony where we got to hear loudly and clearly most of the performance of Nordet, a group from Brittany. They were MARVELOUS. The mass of people below increased even more. Then the Fisherman's Friends came on, and we could hear them even better than we had at the Skinner's Stage. Wonderful. We kept saying to each other how lucky we were--we had no idea any of this would happen when we made these hotel reservations months ago.

We quickly showered and changed our clothes, getting to hear the following groups as we did so. And then off to the Gala, the only paid event of the festival. I think I may have been among the first to purchase online tickets for this concert. The event was sold out, even though I'd say many of the groups performing at other places/times in the festival were better than a couple of the ones on this night's programme. But it was so nice to a) have a seat and b) be able to listen without hearing conversation.

I was seated next to a couple from Germany who like us had accidentally attended last year's festival and decided to return. She told me I was the first American she had seen so far in Cornwall; I laughed and told her she was my first German. One of the group's performers had come from Brittany; another had come from Cobh, Ireland. The standout performance was Tom Lewis, and now I understand why he is famous among the sea shanty cognoscenti. All throughout the festival, one could hear the groups and the crowd singing some of the songs he himself had written. I found a good link to much of his work here. Unfortunately, because he was the last to perform, his set was cut a bit short. We hoped we could see him perform the next day.

I hugged my new German friend goodbye, and we climbed up the hill to the Greenbank, stopping in at The Star and Garter again because we were "parched". Our bartender started pouring the moment he saw us.

At the Greenbank, the outside concert was finishing up; unfortunately, as I had feared once I had spotted the cocktail hour before, the wedding reception at the end of our room's hall had not. There's nothing quite like a vibrating bed due to bass percussion. After punching my pillows in frustration for a bit--note that my husband did not notice a thing!--I gave up, took my Kindle and went down to the hotel's main bar area near reception. I snuggled into a deep fluffy chair and happily read until 12:15 am, the time when the staff told me the guests had to leave. Indeed, by 12:25 there were a few stragglers still in the area upstairs, but the bass throbbing had certainly stopped and I would blissfully sleep uninterrupted.

Next: An Apology; The Last of the Sea Shanty Festival

An Apology to Those Seeking Info on Falmouth
 

I must tell everyone that this year, we did not do half the exploration of the Falmouth area that we had done last year, so my trip report might provide great info on the Sea Shanty Festival, but provides very little information about touring Falmouth itself. Here are a few things we did last year, all without a car...

• Hiked up to Pendennis Castle for an amazing view over the South Coast
• Visited the National Maritime Museum (the view of the harbor inside is worth the price of admission)
• Took a bus to Trebah Garden and then
• Took the Helford Ferry (just a small motor boat) across the Helford Passage to the Helford/Frenchman's Creek area (yep, Daphne du Maurier stuff)
• Hiked our return up the South West Coast Path from Helford to Swanpool Beach, and from there, took the only taxi of last year's stay

For more specifics, you can consult last year's trip report.

Why did we not do more this time? We had actually planned to explore more on the Roseland Peninsula using ferries, a perfect plan given our Greenbank Hotel location. But the festival truly had expanded so much and had become so delightful, that we stayed put.

Next: The End of the Festival

The End of the Festival
 

We woke up ready to go. We had groups to hear! During our tasty breakfast at the Greenbank (it really is lovely), we outlined our "musts" --the group from Brittany, Nordet and Tom Lewis. We figured our best bet was to get to the Skinner's Stage near the Maritime Museum to hear Nordet at 2 pm and then do a quick run to the Pennycomequick Pub to hear Tom Lewis at 3 pm. We could then return to the Skinner's Stage for the Grand Finale.

First, though, we could sit on our hotel room balcony and listen to the first group scheduled for The Greenbank stage, Mariners Away. They were quite good! We soon departed the hotel, working our way in and out of venues all the way to the Skinner's Stage at the opposite end of the town.

We were able to establish a sort of "beachhead" at one of the restaurants ringing the performance area, and we invited a man, who was soon joined by this wife, with a very unreliable dog to sit down with us. Oh, the dog was fine with us; it just was not happy with other dogs and people. We figured if we could lower the owner's stress the dog would feel better. We got to hear about its sad life--it was born in Romania where dogs are abandoned everywhere, and even when it was adopted, the owners were not willing to work out its issues.

I don't blame those former owners--there are plenty of dogs for adoption out there who do not have issues--but we did like how this owner and his wife handled the dog and we give them a lot of credit. I'm a big fan of a show in the US called Dr Jeff: Rocky Mountain Vet who is fighting the fight for spaying and neutering all over the planet. Dr Jeff had an episode on Romanian street dogs that particularly resonated, so I had an inkling what these owners were about, too.

Nordet came on stage, and if they had been good the day before, they were breathtaking this time. We'd travel to see them again. Near the end of the set, bad weather came in, whipping canvas and chairs and whatever around. The lead singer said, "We're from Brittany. We're used to this!" My husband and I laughed because most of our cycling days in Brittany had been in this type of weather. As my youngest remarked just a few months ago, "All I remember of Brittany is those amazing Ker-y Poms (baked apple pastries), rain with headwind, and a constant uphill. I don't remember one single downhill!"

Luckily, we were armed with our ever-present one-dollar ponchos in our backpacks, and we stayed to the wet end of their set. Then we were off. We did not drift in and out of any other venues this time--we hustled straight to the Pennycomequick. The previous group was running a bit late, so we made it in time. And fans of the previous group then left their seats, so we were able to sit up front near Tom with a fresh brew. And amazingly enough, I got to chitchat with his 2nd wife Lynn before the set!

Facts: Tom was born in Belfast but raised in Gloucester, England. He joined the Royal Navy as a teenager, and learned the welding trade in the process. When stationed in Scotland, he became enchanted by sea shanties. He not only collected them but also wrote new ones. He and Lynn, though, lived off of his metal skills in inland Canada for years before they realized that the demand for his musical creativity was huge. And now they've returned to England for their home base but tour constantly. They are both lovely people. Heck, maybe he'll be performing near you soon--here's his current tour schedule.

Tom did not repeat one song from his set the night before at The Gala. He is such a presence, and we felt lucky to see this artist. Yes, we shall travel to see him again, too.

We were off! The finale was at the Skinner Stage. We found a table at the opposite side from where we were before, got two brews and...our dog friends were there! We all laughed. The rain had stopped, the 5 PM finale was wonderful, and we were so very grateful we had gotten to be a part of this wonderful event and wonderful cause.

I had made reservations long ago at the nearby Rick Stein's, but that time was an hour away. We decided to chance it that they've let us take an early table. Success! We had a good meal and great service.

On our walk back (and I swear, most of it WAS uphill) to the Greenbank, we did one last visit with our Star & Garter. My husband said, "You don't think we'd leave without saying goodbye, did you?" and we tried a different brew. Not as good as that Firestone, though.

The Greenbank was quiet. And so were we. Tomorrow we would be on our way to St Austell.

Next: St Austell/Charlestown Beckons

St Austell/Charlestown Beckons
 

We took our last breakfast view of Falmouth Harbor, packed up, and made our way to check-out. I decided we should reserve a room for next year's festival if at all possible. I was unsure if I wanted the room we had so near the wedding area. I asked the desk manager about the situation. She looked up the available rooms, telling me that she probably could book us a room inside the main building, away from all of that. I was torn, but then she remarked, "And your room is booked for next year anyway!" Decision done!

I called a cab, and soon we were at the Falmouth Town stop, rolling our belongings up the ramp to take the short leg to Truro. At Truro, we swtiched lines to go on the Penzance-Paddington line to St Austell. We had the same train conductors who had helped us before! Both asked all about the festival. The both said now they were determined to go. We determined that the train was rather empty. They said that in just a week or two, there would be standing room only because schools would be letting out.

Our St. Austell/Charlestown B&B owner had informed us there was a taxi rank at the station, and soon we were on our way to The Seaways B&B. We knew our room would not be ready until 3 pm, but we planned to drop off our luggage and make our way down the South West Coast Path to explore Charlestown. When there was no answer at the door, I called the owner, who told us the key code for the lockbox. We let ourselves in, found our room, and changed out for a bit of hiking. And looking at the view from our room, I just had to take a picture and zap an email to my sister to say, "Why aren't you HERE?"

It took us a bit to find the path--we did not want to go tramping through backyards--and soon we were on this poorly maintained and not very scenic section of the path. We kept remarking how lucky we were that we had not hiked this during the rain we had endured in Honiton. While neither of us was sporting hiking boots, my husband was wearing his knee compression sleeves and I was wearing my Powerlix Achilles Compression Sleeves. I had also pulled out my REI Black Diamond Trekking Poles for the first time of the trip.

Once we could see Charletown, the descent paid off, and we immediately reported for beer to the Pier House Hotel for two pints of Proper Job IPA and some sandwiches. We got a "Westie fix" when we spotted owner and dog frolicking nearby, The owner said he was having a tough time training him, and we roared with laughter. "You are really going to have to double down, " we remarked, "because a Westie always feels its HIS mission to train YOU! You have to make sure you come out on top or it's all over." We had always felt that in our training of our little guy, we had only arrived at a more or less negotiated peace.

We explored the nearby Shipwreck & Heritage Center, where our options were to include a bit of the masted ships outside plus tour the museum or just tour the museum. My husband has not interest in rigging, historical or not, and I had had my fill of it in my travels with my parents, so we opted just for the inside. The museum was worth it IF one paid close attention to detail. We got to see an exhibit on the history of shipwreck exploration and then viewed many artifacts from wrecks both near and far. Some of the stories behind sinkings were so very tragic and moving.

We made our way out to daylight and walked around town. My husband has yet to see one episode of Poldark; indeed, I only saw the series after we had visited Cornwall last year--and even then, I had read the entire book series first. But I explained to him that Charlestown was the filming substitute for Falmouth in the series, and I brought up pictures on my phone to show how the location was used. He was impressed.

We climbed our way out of Charlestown up the path (thank you, trekking poles) and finally got to meet both the B&B owner, Jules, who is simply delightful, and her dog, Leila, who is so sweet. Originally a hairdresser from Plymouth, she and her contractor husband lived in a caravan for a year while he built/rebuilt houses on the B&B's hill. They immediately sold the first one they did, moved into the second house while renting the ground floor out, and they've purchased another in front of it. They plan to LOWER the roof on the one in front. She was charming and simply fascinating. We assured her we had made dinner reservations ahead of time, and she made sure she approved those choices!

After a few hours of lounging around, we called a taxi instead of hiking down to Charletown's The Longstore restaurant. The food was good, although one irritating thing was trying to remember a list of specials briefly shown us on a chalkboard. Then we saw a customer go up and snap a picture of it to take back to the table. Yep, should have done that! We ended up drinking a local IPA, Ellensberg, from Harbour Brewing in the Bodmin, Cornwall area.

We returned to the Pier House Hotel pub, and played with all the dogs inside while chatting with their owners. Soon it was time to call a taxi again. We got the same driver who had dropped us off at the Longstore, who was on my case because he knew I was upset about having a certain leader back home, and he continued to state his admiration of the guy (not--it was a joke) all the way home. My husband just roared with laughter.

Next:
Why All the Taxis--Thought You Were Going Without a Car?
Heligan Gardens and Mevagissy