Last night we had a splendid dinner at the Lemon Arms pub in Mylor Bridge and, just as we were leaving, two holidaying ladies told us we just HAD to visit Trebah garden. They claimed it was better than the Eden Project, though they hadn’t actually been to the Eden Project but knew someone who had. They also raved about the steak and ale pie at the Lemon Arms. I have to admit, I agree with them on that. It was pretty damn good.
Anyway, first thing today we didn’t go to Trebah. Instead, we popped up to the Mylor Cafe for breakfast where we were treated to the sight of a man hosing down his boat’s bottom.
Following a delicious breakfast consisting mostly of eggs and coffee, we headed along the shingles for a bit of a walk. Bob and I were a bit concerned that Mirinda was going to head for Flushing again but she managed to stop herself in time.
Bob took the time to check out a gun emplacement. This is for his forthcoming PhD into WWI & WW2 British gun defence structures scattered throughout the countryside, not always logically.
We then headed back to the harbour and managed to hire a vessel in order to spend a lovely (half) day of mucking about in a boat along the Fal River.
Mirinda made an excellent pilot as we putted all the way up to the Smuggler’s Inn (sadly closed for the season). There was a very handy pontoon for us to tie up to and have lunch on, a lunch lovingly prepared by the ladies at the Mylor Cafe, I might add.
Ages ago, Nick (at work) told me about the big ships that often moored up the Fal, beyond King Harry’s Ferry. They go up at high tide and stay there if they’ve nothing better to do. Today we were treated to the sight of the Windsor Castle and the Dona Amelia tied up mid-channel ahead of us.
In fact, as we sat and ate (and entertained a swan) the Windsor Castle jolly boat came over and tied off at the pontoon. (It’s the first jolly boat I’ve ever seen with its own banister.) Two chaps leapt ashore and went in search of a chaplain, who they found, and, subsequently, took back to the Windsor Castle. Possibly for last rites, possibly a marriage, a hurried christening, exorcism…we will probably never know.
Having taken our little boat all the way up river, we headed back after lunch, making sure we pulled into Mylor Creek in order to get a photo of the house from the water.
And so, after the hectic schedule of the last couple of days, we settled back at the house in the early afternoon for a long, needed rest. Ah, a life on the ocean waves…
Around about 5, I decided to wander into the village for some essential cow juice and because I hadn’t actually walked into the village yet. Given we’re off home tomorrow, I realised it was ‘now or never’. And a very pleasant walk it was, too. On the way back, I couldn’t resist taking a photo of this sign. It just about sums up Church Road.
Not only did I get milk but I also discovered why there are so many references to lemons in Mylor Bridge. It’s nothing to do with the yellow, sour fruit (and can I just say how disappointed I am with Victorian lemonade? It’s disgusting!). Rather, it’s because of a village benefactor called Sir Charles Lemon of Carclew who, in 1845, gave the parishioners of Mylor a clock and tower to put it in.
I don’t know anything else about Sir Chuck but will endeavour to research him when I am once more in the civilised world where the Internet exists.