No Alpacas, Lots of Tall Ships, Stormy Weather

Well it is a bit odd not to think about alpacas all day. We hear news from Joshua of the latest birth at six in the evening. The stockman had gone so we were lucky to have a son in the house to see to the cria. The mother must have had trouble getting her out but the cria was big and strong and all seems to be well.

At breakfast yesterday we saw a green Tall Ship coming in. The pilot boats were out waiting for her and she was closely followed by the big white Russian job Mir which is huge. By the time we got to Falmouth on the ferry there were six docked including one from Oman where all the sailors were wearing fetching blue and white turbans, a Mexican vessel, a Uruguyan, a German and a Brit. We decided to get the ferry to Truro which goes through the Carrick Roads – what a fantastic name for a piece of water – and up the Fal. We could only go as far as Malplas as the tide was too low so we were decanted on to a double decker bus. This was an old bus with silver metal things on the back of the seats with STUBBER written on them. To be honest Truro was not that interesting. I wanted to see the cathedral, a relatively new one started in 1880 and that was splendid apart from a disgusting brutalist concrete addition housing the cafe, loos and shop. They had built in the cathedral nave itself a Christmas shop that was truly horrendous – I cannot imagine why a bishop would want a shop in his cathedral. I lit candles for my mother and father and admired the splendid stained glass windows. There are still some very fine terraces left in the city but the centre has been taken over by shopping blandness. There is even a brand new M&S which is ugly too. Who are these planners? We had passed a mussel farm on the Fal so at lunchtime I had Fal mussels and very good they were too.

The tide was up so the ferry collected us from the city centre. I saw little egrets, swans, herons, cormorants and shags on the way down the river. The weather got steadily worse. I met a man who had had an angioplasty on Tuesday who was very pleased to be on a boat rather than in hospital. He was still smoking and said plaintively ‘but I don’t drink’. We saw the storm gates that are supposed to protect Truro from flooding – apparently they don’t work. By the time we got to the Carrick Roads again we had driving drizzle, big waves and plenty of spray to lick off one’s face. Once at Falmouth we changed on to the little ferry to St Mawes. This really was frightening as we fought our way out into the sea. The boat was all over the place, the wind was howling, the skipper started telling jokes and a toddler started to wail. At that point the crew, the parents and grandparents broke in to song ‘ the wheels on the bus’ etc to try to calm the little mite. Chas remained calm although one side of him was soaked as the spray came over the upper deck. The nice crewman announced that things might get worse as we turned broadside into the waves to go into St Mawes. Actually it was blissful, the wind was much less and yes, we were nearly there.

During the evening we say another Tall Ship coming in. It kept disappearing in and out of the mist and then vanished. It could have been a ghost ship aimlessly wandering the world…

I have finished my book ‘Things Fall Apart’ and yes, things turned out bad and sad. I have moved on to three books now. A ripping yarn from John Buchan,The Three Hostages; Mass Observation: Britain in the Second World War and Sun-tzu The Art of War.