St Ives
St. Ives was packed with tourists, as feared, but we soon found the older, quieter, lovelier section of town near the Barbara Hepworth Museum, that was charming — narrow, largely car-free streets lined with slate and stone cottages, some with good craft and art galleries or other little enterprises. We bought some Leech Pottery (the inexpensive stuff, not the pricey collectors stuff by master potter Bernard Leech) at St. Ives Ceramics and shared a cream tea at a sweet place called Olive’s Cafe, which also had amazing cakes including a tall chocolate and yellow cake lined with Jaffa Cakes biscuits.
View from Port Isaac airbnb
The drive south and west along the coast from St. Ives was breathtaking, again on impossibly narrow streets past stone cottage built right along the road that also goes along a cliff. Most drivers shared the road calmly, backing up or scrunching over when need be but we did have a showdown with an older couple who didn’t want to back up (when they could — and we couldn’t) so that was awkward and a few other Brits weren’t impressed with our halting style of driving, especially at round abouts. DIrck did a great job, considering all the challenges (including my constant backseat driving “you’re too close to the left…slow down, move to the right…you could go faster here…”)
HIghlights included fish and chips, sitting at a picnic tables with British holiday makers in Sennon Cove, dipping into the woods to visit another hidden cove (this one tiny and secluded) in Lamorna, and standing along the sea at Marazion, gazing out at St. Michael by the Sea — and thinking our son will soon be visiting the French version, Mont. St. Michelle. Sad to leave this beautiful house by the sea but feel so lucky to have had the opportunity to come here.
TakeBetsywithyou 