A bit of a late start as Mirinda was busy finishing up some work stuff well into the early hours and she needed the sleep in. Eventually the poodles went up to the kennel – though I feel I should mention that Mirinda was so busy chatting to herself that she drove straight by the road and ended up almost at Haslemere – while I mowed the lawn and generally left the house in a state I’d be happy to return to. We managed to leave by 1:30.
The drive is becoming somewhat automatic these days as we head south west. M3 – A303 – A30 etc etc blah blah blah. All endless and for about 200 miles. Actually, the Gary route is shorter than the preferred route suggested by Google Maps. Even more actually, the Google journey would have taken a lot longer as the A30 was closed after Launceston! Anyway, we went via Tavistock. Naturally we had to stop and visit the original Cornish Pasty shop – still yum and still in the same place – for a short break before ending up in the lovely little town of Lostwithiel.
Apparently, Lostwithiel was the medieval capitol of Cornwall. It’s very lovely but not what you’d call huge. Lots of narrow little streets and lovely granite blocked houses. It sits on the river Fowey (pronounced ‘Foy’) and has an interesting looking museum that I will have to visit. But this evening we just raided the Londis for supplies before driving on to Castle.
What a lovely, quiet, secluded place! Down a massive single lane hill, banked up on either side by ancient hedges. We went down a long way before coming across the driveway into the house. It’s like a little chateau. Originally there was a mill here. Well, in 1086, anyway. The existing house was built in the 1800s and the garden is quite famous. It obviously fell into some sort of disrepair as the present owners are renovating it and try to bring it back to the splendour it once, no doubt, had.
Our residence for the week is half the top floor. It’s nice and big! The entrance is up and around the side of the house so we’re quite secluded although the owner lives just downstairs and next door. He is a very nice chap. Introduced himself – we were shown into the apartment by a French fellow – and told us all about Cornwell. He arrived from London 10 years ago and loves the silence although it gave him nightmares at first.
Only one sad note…there appears to be no shower. Just a big bath. Although I have yet to spend any length of time in the bathroom. Maybe it’s hiding. Fingers crossed then.