Queuing, or the Kew Inn?

One thing I forgot to mention yesterday when talking about The Old Inn near St Breward was beef dripping chips. The liberal, vegetarian, bleeding hearts brigade have pretty much outlawed the use of beef dripping, claiming that it contributes towards heart attacks, and to be fair, the pub offered the option of having them cooked in vegetable oil, but being a traditionalist, and suspicious of new fangled dietary guidance, I took advantage of the dripping option. Nurse, where are by blood pressure tablets?

Another early start commenced with a walk around the waterfall at Tintagel in more sunshine, albeit slightly less in evidence than the past few days. Beforehand, we had motored into Bodmin itself for a look around. This did not take long, and I wish I could say something positive about the town, but alas, there is nothing to say. The waterfall at Tintagel is open to visitors, and, thinking that the charming Cornish girl on the till was being very nice, petting the dogs, even the devil dog, and calling us all “my lovelies”, we agreed to go in, expecting to pay, maybe £1. “That will be £9” she said with that winning smile. I knew who was winning alright. The water feature itself was quite spectacular, but it was still just a load of rain water falling down a hill for Christ’s sake. Nine quid? I would want it to be a hot shower followed by a blow job for it to be worth that kind of money,

Anyway, we continued onto Boscastle where I settled my nerves with a pint of Tribute at the delightful old Napoleon Inn, which advertised a sea view. This was an extreme interpretation of the Trades Description Act. What it should have added was “if you are wonderfully long sighted, it is a clear day, 6ft 10″ tall and the tide is in”. Lovely pub though and a nice pint.

Boscastle Harbour

Boscastle Harbour was breathtakingly beautiful as shown by my picture today. Quintessentially Cornish, and looking delightful in the sun, all that was missing was a pub on the quay. So, with the heat (yes, heat in Cornwall!) building, it was time for lunch so we headed to the Red Lion at St Kews Highway, eschewing a pub at St Teath, where many a dentist must had cursed the local spelling. A less accomplished writer than myself may have come up with a terrible pun along the lines of denture worry, there will be another pub soon, but luckily you are reading this column and will be spared such dreadful wordplay. Very good tapas for That Nice Lady Decorator and a delightful lemon sole for me.

On the way home, That Nice Lady Queueing Person decided that she wanted to replicate the long wait she had at the tills of the garden centre the day before by going to the aptly named The Kew Inn, which is exactly what she was doing the day before at roughly the same time. It is set in wonderful gardens in a dip in the valley close to St Kew and is a fabulous old pub, with a very nice line in warning signs designed to make parents wary of bringing their kids “warning, deep water”, “children must be supervised at all times” etc. They stopped short of warning about snakes and trolls in the woods, but I got their drift, as it seems, have many parents, and I was totally in favour, as kids ruin many a lovely pub garden. As I think WC Fields once said “I like children, but I couldn’t eat a whole one”.

So that is it, this morning we shall leave the splendid mill cottage in which we have been staying for the last few days, courtesy of Currencies Direct client, Peter Blue Water Bennett and the impossibly beautiful Julie, and head back towards the New Forest (although I think I would prefer something older) for a couple of nights to take advantage of this ridiculously good weather before it inevitably breaks in the next few days.

Chris France
@Valbonne_News