Anna and I flew back to Bristol Airport and made it as far as Bristol Temple Meads station, at which point I looked at the departures board and tacked an impromptu vacation onto the end of my impromptu vacation.
Okay, it wasn’t quite as spontaneous as that, but pretty close. As in, planned about 48 hours before we left Malta. I’ve fallen so head-over-heels in love with the Cornish coast that I decided I couldn’t leave the UK without seeing it again. Specifically, I wanted to see the Museum of Witchcraft and Magic in Boscastle.
As it turns out, Boscastle is about two miles up the coast from Tintagel—making it every bit as difficult to get to.
So I made plans to take the train from Bristol to Penzance and spend a day poking around Penzance before battling my way up the coast via the Cornish bus system to Boscastle.
The added bonus of this trip was that I got to see Penzance—which I picked mainly because other than Tintagel it’s the only Cornish town I knew off the top of my head. My affection for Penzance dates back to Ms. Simrell’s fourth grade class and our production of The Pirates of Penzance, where I had (after some initial sour grapes over casting) a rollicking good time in the chorus.
Poor wandering one
Though thou hast surely strayed
Take heart of grace
Thy steps retrace
Poor wandering one…