26 December | Our Final Photo

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We made the trek across this moor and all the way to the west end of England, to Cape Cornwall, where the Irish Sea meets the Atlantic Ocean. 

A most remarkable and wonderful place.

From the left above:

The Cape and Priests' Cove sit above the ocean | Yes, that rock formation off the coast does look like Charle DeGaulle on his back  |  Wild ponies on the moor  |  Jim Hind, a volunteer staffing the all-volunteer Coastal Watch on the top of the Cape regaled us with tales of ships upon the shoals  |  We five: Jim, Ron, Mark, Scott, and Bill—ready to venture into the windy and seafoam-swept Cape

And, of course, as is always our plan, this adventure ended in a pub out on the moor, a yellow-

orange and ancient pub, glowing with a log fire, serving a fantastic gourmet Christmas Eve lunch.

See the pics below!

We spent a thoroughly sublime and wonderful evening together at this remarkable place with remarkable music and readings—9 lessons and carols. Often associated with Kings College in Cambridge, it was originally composed for this cathedral. 

From the left above:

The Cathedral in the city of Truro (stock pic) |  The facade  |  Jim, Ron, and Scott—seated in the choir stalls  |  Mark and Bill |  Speaking with the Canon Chancellor |  The Cathedral itself | Traditional British phone booths

From the left above:

Sunrise over the Sea | Our group of friends | Men an Tol — Ancient belief was that to pass through the hole was to obtain good health, so we all gave it a try—more or less—first Mark, then Jim, Ron, Scott and Bill | Our group of 5 again | Tin mining shafts and old farm buildings dot the moor | The Merry Maidens stone circle | Ancient stone walls | Our group of 5 once again | And finally, the Lanyon Quoit, an ancient altar-like structure of remarkable size—how did they get that huge stone up on its pillars?

 The area has had a long mystical tradition and these sacred sites and stones have been important to the people of Cornwall since ancient times. We wandered 4 miles across these wild moors, through bracken, gorse, and heather, between mine shafts, down ancient paths, from megalith to megalith.

The five of us set out to hike on the moor at Zennor. We left Zennor, crossed a small creek, and headed toward the sea. The moor was wild and wooly! Strong winds blew against us and the sea spray filled the air. The creek rushed toward the sea. The path wound up and down the coast, winding between long-closed tin mines, rock formations, and the sea itself. 

Fortunately, our journey ended at a local pub, the Tinners Arms (see the pics below). A toasty log fire awaited us. There were pints all around. A hearty lunch followed before we headed home for long winter naps.

The cemetery of the village | The beach | A doorway in the village | The bakery around the corner from our cottage | The beach | The Tate art gallery | The town rescue boat