The Sunny Hours

Yet another day of beautiful sunshine here in the North of the county. Find a sunny corner, sheltered from the cool Easterly, and you could almost imagine the Summertime. I'm savouring every sweet moment, as this Winter has felt much longer than most. I'm going to make the most of every sunny second I can get involved in, from now until November. Pact made. Here's a couple of shots I took when a milder wind was blowing, a few days back. C

When Mizzle Parts...

It was mizzly yesterday at home. I'd sat around waiting for it to clear and it didn't and it came time to walk the dog or I'd miss the last light, so I decided to head to the beach. At least there I could watch the grand swell that had arrived, watch it tearing up a secret little bay I like to head to when I need to clear my head. I left my SLR at home, assuming it'd be wet at the beach too. Frustratingly, not only did the rain and cloud stop within metres of the beach, revealing a certain amount of blue sky, but the light was also fantastic: perfect photographic conditions even. It was annoying, but with my trusty iPhone and one of the little cheater apps, I got this nice shot from the shore. The original itself is pretty special. The clouds were dramatic right up until the dark set in and we headed up the hill to home. Goes to show though, I need to be carrying that camera everywhere. Lesson learnt. C

Guest Blog # ??

We're all done stock checking. It's been.... emotional.
So we haven't bigged up a guest blog for ages - it's high time we rectified that little aberration, straight away.
My friend Lee has taken it upon himself to troll the North Cornish countryside in search of Holy Wells and Celtic Crosses in his low-slung Merc. It's a lovely way to explore this area, just as the colours are so chromatic. He even found the Holy Grail the other day. C
Keep watch on his adventures here:

Lee Robertsons Blog

Roots suits me

Here's a few pictures from the day of the mini surf contest mentioned below (no shots, you'll be sad to hear, of my very exaggerated soul arch that I think secured my win. I'm kind of glad - it was more like an accidental pelvic pump.)
I guess what stood out most from this contest were the people who attended. Some are already my very close friends, some I barely met before but got to know better. Good people, all. Just imagine participating in an event like this with strangers who had no interest in talking to each other or hooting as another caught a choppy sloppy wave or just laughing and smiling and putting the good vibe out there. It wouldn't work would it?
Events like these - small, familiar, fun. They're all about the person you're paddling out with, or watching it with from the cliff tops.
Long live homegrown surf contests.
C

The Merits of a Small World

Here's a few shots I took within 12 hours and 1 mile. The beach is the beach that I've been playing on as long as I can remember. The maize field has a wooden gate that's seen better days (I park my derrier on it often) but as far back as I can recall, it was always that way. I've lived in this area nearly my whole life. And although I've left it many times, I've always returned.

I said to my girlfriend last night that, as I get older, I seem to appreciate the merits of my small world more. I never used to. At least not so much. I couldn't get far enough away sometimes, for fear of an insular life not led - Australia was beautiful, New Zealand dramatic, Sri Lanka hot, Los Angeles exciting. And they still are and probably always will be. But with each walk deep through the local woods; each and every bewitching sunset over my wedge of the North Atlantic - I see something slightly different to it. And I'm not just saying that for philosophical effect - I genuinely do. It's a different hue, a persepctive that's new to me - an angle that brings an object out of my periphery and into a clearer focus. Maybe it's just that, with a smaller area to zoom in upon, I'm forced to notice more. But if beauty lies therein, small worlds aren't so bad (until you start marrying family members. Then it's definitely time to leave.) C

Conjuring up trouble

Ever been to Tintagel?

It's an odd place. Oh, it's very enticing, don't get me wrong. The dramatic cliffs that fall away to an often torrid sea, seagulls circling on the breeze between. The foothills to Bodmin Moor that rise gently up behind the town. The castle, or that which remains, on the steep, craggy sides of the island that sits proud of the mainland, a bullet point to the chaotic Cornish coastline.

It's also got more than its fair share of Wizards.

As a result, oddness prevails. You'll be walking down the street in Tintagel, black cats running everywhere, and then some poor sod gets turned into a toad for no apparent reason. The waft from a dozen cauldrons pervades the sea air (cauldrons would traditionally be considered a Witches kitchen implement of choice. Wizards in Tintagel pride themselves on their gender equality.) Shops are awash with pointy hats and baggy sleeved cloaks. An advert in the Tintagel post office window that says 'STAFF WANTED' means something far different to quite what you'd expect...
Day to day, odd though it may be, generally Tintagel does very well off the back of King Arthurian myth and legend, and the Wizards tend to keep themselves to themselves (save for popping up at the odd car boot sale). Issues arise, however, when less professional Wizards start messing around with weather spells. Invariably, being only a few miles North as the crow flies, Bude is affected by any meddlesome apprentice Wizards who are a little over-confident in their wand-waving abilities when it comes to elemental incantations. Luckily for the rest of the residents of North Cornwall, the Tornado that I witnessed over the cliffs of Tintagel this morning came and went fairly quickly, lasting about half an hour. I don't think it caused much damage - perhaps a few shellshocked mackerel. Still, it was an impressive sight at 7am on an otherwise mundane morning so, dear beardy neighbours, I'll let this little mishap slide. This time. Next time though, I'm calling Cornwall Council - Harry Potter may very well be popular but that's no excuse for this irresponsible, wayward behaviour. C

Wednesday Guest Blog # 5

We promise not to use Emma's face transplant app for some time now.
This weeks blog of the week is the sumptuous Kernow Kalling. It's a bit art, a bit surf, a bit design, a good deal Cornwall and a lot lovely.

www.kernowkalling.blogspot.com

The Camper Van Man

A good friend of the shop and contributor to our recent photo competition, Mr Martin Dorey has just released his first book. It's called The Camper Van Cookbook, and it's really very very good. (I'll be honest, I don't have a copy yet, although I did see a small sample copy. But off the back of this blatant plug I'm hoping a free one will mysteriously turn up on the doorstep... You know where I am Martin.)

Of course, it's full of tasty recipes that are easy to make and although aimed at those cooking on 4 wheels, there is no reason the same recipes can't be knocked up when back at base. It's also got plenty in there on beach life and beach concerns, and photography that will bring a warm Summer back to mind throughout the deepest Winter.

Keep your eyes on the TV too - the BBC have commissioned a series based on the book. Martin starts filming next month.

You can purchase a copy of the book here, read Martins frequently updated blog here, or join him on twitter here.

You can also watch him out worrying mussels on local North Cornish beaches, just here.