I meant to write up a pile of stuff last week, but have failed to do so, and thus will try and get it all down, now.

As I compose this, today is (still) Thursday. This day last week, I switched off the ADSL (gods! only had it one day and am switching it off!) and jumped in the car at 0630 to hurtle to the southwesternmost tip of Britain, Land’s End.

This was due to Joep and his wife Judith being in the country for three week’s holiday, and since the schools have/had not finished yet, it struck me as an ideal time to visit the county of Cornwall. an 0730 start proved wise, and I broke my journey first for elevenses – tea and scones at the Ravenshead Tea Rooms in Moretonhampstead. Run by a flirty and charming woman of alas too advanced years, it was a pleasant place to take a break, not unlike diving into a chintz and doileyed linen cabinet, with waitress service.

It was in this town that I almost managed to end my holiday by punching the wrong number into an ATM three times, and locking my current account. Oops. Fortunately I had 100 quid in my backup account (Security and H/A – paranoia is a wonderful thing) and withdrew almost the entire amount, reasoning that cash and credit card could get me through.

Driving: next was to follow the cross-dartmoor road, stopping at Bennets Cross, Dartmoor to enjoy the views:

image c/o [www.clickable.co.uk]

…and to pause, and ponder. Someone there had left a plastic-wrapped letter to a dead aunt – faded damp and slightly tragic, restrained under a stone. That’s one way to deal with tragedy, and an odd way to share your loss, but probably no weirder than blogging.

Erm, let’s see: car, drive, drive, south coast, go past Goonhilly Earth Satellite Station, then towards Leedstown to the campground where I arranged to meet Joep and Judith.

Canned highlights: beer, cider and perry; a two mile hike on a warm, sunny evening to a pub in Praze an Beeble (yes, really) and a lift back to the campsite by the boyfriend of the girl who was waitressing for us. Justin (for it was he) was a nice lad, and we talked about the locals being priced-out of the local properties, as we hurtled through the back roads.

I can’t quite remember when I explained to Joep the concept of the Radio 4 Shipping Forecast. If you’re British, or have been a long-time resident, you’ll know what it is. If not, listen to and check out [www.bbc.co.uk] – and more importantly (for explanation) [www.sciencenet.org.uk] – including a map of the deceased Finisterre.

I listen to the shipping forecast. It helps me fall asleep. Even structurally I prefer the late-night shipping forecast – usually read by one of the interchangable female received pronunciation BBC Radio 4 announcers, followed by the inshore waters forecast; the whole supplies a sonorous, meditative, sedative bedtime story that has generally been lacking since childhood, with visions of heroic fishermen being battered by unforgiving, elemental seas.

Anyway – lacking the shipping forecast and after the disruption, I didn’t sleep very well, but then I hadn’t much to do in the morning, so that was OK.

Friday we rose, and drove around – we visited and photographed the merry maidens stone circle and continued down to Land’s End – finding it occupied by a tourist-trap car-park and theme-park, we drove a few miles up the coast to Sennen [www.streetmap.co.uk] had a nice cream tea, and then walked the cliff path back to the point.

The walk took us past the wreck of the RMS Mulheim [news.bbc.co.uk] – a cargo ship that foundered on the local rocks in March. It’s still intact, and evidently there have been some attempts at salvage because the deck was partially raised, as shown on [news.bbc.co.uk] ; we took some photos of the wreck and of the countryside, and forged on towards the point.

A bit of geekery: we read that Wolf Rock lighthouse was 14km away, and by comparing it against the width of different coins held at arm’s length determined that it looked about 2mm high at a length of 850mm-ish. From this, we computed an estimated height of 33m for the helicopter platform above sea level, and I was pleasantly suprised to find the actual height is about 36m. Personally, I have to admit I felt 33 was a bit short, and was expecting something closer to 40m, so maybe we just got a bit lucky.

Trundle back in the setting sun, chase round for dinner, back to the campground, suffer the campsite bar and bingo calling for one pint’s worth, and crash out.

Next morning I pack, say goodbyes, drive north to Padstow and thence Morwenstow to swing past the NSA listening base; it’s easy to find if you apply a little lateral thinking.

Most of the unclassified roads in Cornwall are barely wider than a single car’s width, so when you head north of the town of Bude and find one that enters the village of Stibb and is approximately 33% wider than normal, and better-paved – you think:

Aha! That’s the route for the delivery trucks and HGVs for site building!

…and you’re right. The widened road feed to/from the main road, and goes nowhere else. 😎

It’s not well-labelled on maps, but you can see it on [www.streetmap.co.uk] if you want a look, or wish to visit.

Sunday was recovery day, notable events including the flyover of a Supermarine Spitfire [www.richard-seaman.com] over the house at lunchtime; I tend to get two or three flyovers per year – living on an airshow circuit flightpath – but I couldn’t tell you which model this was.

It’s always easy to spot Spitfires – the engine noise is distinctive [www.scotsounds.com] and it was one with fully rounded wingtips, in camoflage, with invasion/zebra stripes under each wing, a bit like this: [www.vflintham.demon.co.uk]

Anyway –

Work, work, work, ADSL, rebuild computer room work… life’s back to normal for a bit, but much more pleasant with the prospect of real home working. conference call here, trip into London to meet up with Gilles there… it all adds up.

And this evening, a phone message from Joep – after a wet night resulting in them/their tent nearly being blown across Exmoor, he’s been into a secondhand bookshop and picked up a copy of someting like the Royal Yachting Association Handbook of Navigation around the British Isles, explaining all the sea areas and inshore waters, as a companion to the shipping forecast.

Sweet!