Musical Pitches in North Cornwall

Sunday 29 July

Having witnessed some of the tail backs in the lanes to the A38 this week we wanted to get away nice and early from our site in South Hams.  We hitched up in bright sunshine and were on the road by 8.30am en route to our next site In North Cornwall.

We towed down the A38, over the Tamar Bridge and into Cornwall in bright sunshine.  On emerging from the tunnels and heading North West is was a different world.  It started to cloud over, and as we climbed we could see the rain in the distance coming towards us.  It lashed down, and Mandy's wipers were working overtime.  As we neared the coast and drove through Boscastle it cleared up and we arrived at Trewethett Farm,some 56 miles later, in sunshine.

We were VERY early and are informed that they cannot book me in until after 11am.  I go off for a wander around the site and am frustrated to note there are many pitches available that we could now be starting to set up on but are locked out, not yet within the circle of trust.

I can understand why they do not let new comers in until 11am though, because inside the barriers  it's like musical pitches without the music!

Everyone is running all over the place bagging a recently vacated pitch that has a better view of the sea than the one they are currently on.  I have no such plans to move, once we are set up we will stay set up.  As I'm wandering around sussing out the vacant pitches, someone shouts to me "You can't have that one, I'm going there now!"

I had no interest in the pitch because it was directly opposite the entrance to the dog walk, and with our two barking at every passing mutt we'd have had no peace.  A little cheesed off with his attitude, and never one to miss the opportunity to wind someone up I replied "Not if I get booked in and bag it first you won't!"

With that he waddles off to get his car, screams across the site and virtually handbrake turns into the space.  He smugly smiled at me, but I still had an ace up my sleeve.  Pointing at my watch I say "It's 11am, I'm just going to check in."  He then twigged that he had not been to see the wardens to tell them of the change and  to get a pitch card from her.

Breathlessly he bursts into reception to see me picking up the card for another pitch as he tries to barge through to the front. His Mrs is now moving their caravan half way across the site using the motor mover (a few hundred meters) and the battery runs flat blocking off the main access to the site.

I'm tempted to lean on the horn, but herself gives me the look and I think better of it, just smiling as he attempts to manhandle the van the last 30m onto the pitch.
We've chosen a pitch 1 row back from the front, we can see the sea but also have some protection from the winds.

After setting up we remember that we have no food in the van.  The information leaflet promises a Londis no less in Tingadel.  Bugger that, so herself interrogates the neighbours who inform her that there is a Tesco in Launceston some 20 miles away (back in the direction we just came from).  At that sort of distance we did enough shopping to see us through until Thursday.

Tea was a curry provided by Mr Tesco and was washed down with a bottle of Martini Rose.  Herself wants to curl up and doze in the van but I talk her into going for a walk along the adjacent coastal path. "Come on" I say, "It'll be nice" I say, "A stroll along the path to see the sunset." I say.

Walking boots donned we make our way along the path.  It soon becomes apparent that we should have turned left instead of right as we are engulfed bt stingy nettles.  herself is wearing 3/4 trousers and I am in shorts!  Not good.

I get the look that says "I could be curled up watching the Olympics now you moron!"

Undeterred we turn round and go left instead.  The path is narrow and although the views of the coastline are spectacular, and gentle evening stroll it is not.  The wind is strong and some parts of the path require the agility of a mountain goat.