The following day we hit the road to explore Cornwall. Our initial stop was Carvedras, the first house Danny ever lived in. It was a large farm estate, situated on a hill down a long, bumpy road that was definitely not hire car-friendly. The owner unexpectedly came out to meet us as we pulled in, and after learning who we were she happily showed us around. Other than a couple of new barns and a few small additions here and there, the place apparently hadn’t changed much over the decades. It was still a working farm, but it was now stocked with beef cattle instead of dairy cattle. A long-time neighbour, Owen, happened to stop by, and remarkably he remembered Danny and his family very well, even though they moved away over 30 years ago. He had an extraordinary memory, knowing exactly how old Danny was, everyone’s name, and even the month Danny’s brother was born in. Danny was only five years old when he left so I don’t think he remembered much of the property, but I’m sure his family back in Australia appreciated the photos.

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Next, we drove down to Penzance, a coastal town offering little action in winter. Local Christmas shoppers made the place seem busy, but there were no real sights to see other than St Michael's Mount (a tiny island only accessible during low tide) way off in the distance. Cornish pasties were plentiful, so of course we both grabbed one for lunch. They were just as flavourful as I remembered. Not far away was Land’s End, a towering cliff that marked the most south-westerly point of England. The view was spectacular, but a nearby children's amusement park disturbed the serenity. We wandered along the rocky shoreline until the cold numbed our bodies, forcing us to return to the warmth of the car. Hopefully we can return in the future, when the weather is more accommodating, to explore the area further. 

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Truro, the capital of Cornwall, was where we dropped off the hire car and checked into a B&B. We then spent the afternoon with another cousin, Fran, and her family. After several wines and hours of catching up we finally left them in peace and headed out for dinner. On Fran’s recommendation, we resisted the Cornish pasties and dined at an Italian restaurant, which served us gigantic but superb pizzas.

 

Rolling ourselves outside, Danny insisted we then make a visit to the library. This was no ordinary library, but instead it was a venue that is a recurring joke with Danny's relatives. The library was actually a pub, and it was common to say, “I’m just off to the library” when you were actually going out for a few drinks. When we arrived the pub was hosting an open mic night, so we kicked back and listened to a young woman playing the guitar and singing her own original songs, which were surprisingly good. After a couple of drinks we stumbled back to our B&B, where Danny was overly excited about being able to watch TV in bed (a creature comfort we have gone without for some time). It had been a jam-packed day, and I think I was asleep before my head had even hit the pillow.