I think it’s fair to say that we know of no site with a better view than the Caravan Club site at St. Agnes Beacon. I think it is also fair to say that we know of no windier site than the Caravan Club site at St. Agnes Beacon. Today was the start of our third week and time to roll on to Rock. We were sad to be leaving the view but, perhaps, not so sad to be moving on to somewhere a little more sheltered, having been relatively frequently battered by the winds for the last week.

The morning was fair with broken cloud and, there being no rush, we had a final wander up to the top of St. Agnes Beacon to take in the 360 degree panorama before going over to say our farewells to Wheal Coates. On the right day, this stretch of coastline is breathtaking; we’d never tire of it. However, ‘t was time to tear ourselves away and pack up to head up to Rock; well, St. Minver Lowlands, to be precise.

We’ve had almost every direction wind that it’s possible to have over the past two weeks. Today it was relatively light and in the southerly quarter again which helped us slightly on our mere 35 mile trip to Rock. We got Billy settled into his new home with ease, aided by our traditional "installation" beer or two, then had a spot of grilled asparagus with Parma ham and shaved pecorino cheese for lunch before finally using the bicycles to zip off into Rock to investigate the fish supply.

Enter the indispensable WD40; our bikes had been frequently saturated and completely unused over the past two weeks so that the chains were almost rusted to the cogs. (Memo to self: don’t bother with bikes in Cornwall again.) Fortunately, the WD40 worked its magic and freed things up sufficiently for us to arrive at Rock’s wonderful wet fish shop at about 4:00 PM just as the lady was cleaning up and trying to close early. Mercifully, she took pity on us and retrieved and filleted a couple of bright-eyed and glistening Gurnard which are destined to join a stinging nettle butter sauce, probably with a hint of garlic. Whatever I did for this gastronomic delight the first time (last year) was very successful, even if it did cause the fish shop lady’s eyebrows to fly up (subtext: stinging nettles – are you mad?). If I can somehow drag it out of the memory banks and make it work again, Gastroblog will need updating.

It’s windy again.

Attending May Day in Padstow is becoming something of a habit. We started last year, just because we were in the area. This year, we made the effort to plan our excursion. The excitement is all about welcoming summer on May 1st. Last year the weather was astonishing. This year, the weather hadn’t quite got the message but it was, at least, sunny and dry, which went against the general flow this week.

Having decorated all the streets with colourful flags, the Padstonians’ celebrations centre around processions following two "’obby ‘osses": the blue ‘oss, which is the young pretender and hits the streets at 10:00 AM, and the red ‘oss which is the old original ‘oss and emerges at 11:00 AM. (There are actually also two childrens’ ‘osses which come out far too early in the morning.) In a display of considerable stamina and encouraged by its "teaser", each ‘oss continuously whirls and dances its way around a tortuous circuit of the streets of Padstow. Each ‘osses procession consists of throngs of supporters dressed all in white trimmed with ribbons of the appropriate colour, blue or red, together with a band of musicians continuously playing The May Song. Spring flower decorations abound and are worn on clothing, especially hats, as well as adorning the musicians’ instruments. If you’re especially lucky, you’ll hear encouraging chants of "’oss, ‘oss, wee ‘oss" above strains of the incessant music.

There is reportedly strong rivalry between the red and blue supporters but everything appears to be very good natured with mixed groups of supporters, those not in the actual processions, chatting on the streets – fraternizing with the enemy, as it were. A very few folks actually appear to be completely impartial wearing mixed ribbons of red and blue. Good for them.

We arrived just in time to see the blue ‘oss procession passing the harbour area. Later, we also managed to see it emerging from an alley on our way out of town. We completely failed to get a good view of the red ‘oss for the second year running so, as complete outsiders, I think we are verging towards supporting the seemingly more accessible blue ‘oss. We also like that chap with the wonderfully floral hat (above right).

Other centres of attraction on May Day include a very colourful May Pole and, of course, drinking. (Lord knows when the pubs actually open – sun up, I think.) One must, of course, have a pasty for lunch but it must be carefully protected against raids by marauding seagulls which lie in wait for the unsuspecting tourist. This can only be washed down with a pint of something local, such as Tribute. The atmosphere is wonderful and completely addictive. Odd, given the amount of accordions. 🙂

Being unable to drink continuously and also being in need of a shopping trip and a McDonalds wi-fi for three days worth of blogging, we left Padstow to its ongoing celebrations soon after midday before finding our way back to St. Agnes via a roadside McDonalds, Lemon Quay in Truro and Sainsburys.

Bizarre planners that we are, having driven from St. Agnes to Padstow and back, tomorrow we move Billy on to Rock opposite Padstow across the Camel estuary. (Rock and its surrounds appear to be something of a McDonalds desert so Lord knows where we will find a wi-fi network to post this.)