We arrived in Cornwall having made the necessary transition through the time/space barrier that is long-haul flying. I have decided that the discomfort, tedium, relentlessness and leg-aching sleeplessness really ought to be embraced as a necessary per-cursor to all that is wonderful about international travel. No more to be said here, other than we made it.
No mucking around on Heathrow-arrival, we collected our bags in record time (there they were, swirling around on the whirligig as we approached - well, almost). STRAIGHT onto the Paddington Express. Then STRAIGHT onto the 5-hour train to Penzance, hopping off at the penultimate station to hop on a teeny little link-line train to St Ives. Now I hear you saying, "But Groombles, surely that much train travel ON TOP of the long-haul flight was way too much for a koala to bear!" "Not a bit of it, I say, because I LOVE TRAINS!" Not sure about DJ though. Rolling and clattering across the landscape, calling at stations here and there letting passengers on and off, stations with half-familiar names like Swindon, Taunton, Newton-Abbot and finally St Erth is mind-blowing.
On arrival at St Ives, we found ourselves plonked in the middle of holiday-by-the-seaside territory. Sunny, but by no means hot, day. Holiday MAKERS with their buckets and spades, sunnies and very warm coats all down on the beach brushing the cobwebs out of their work-torn everyday lives. No rest for the Ramblers, though, because we had to haul our suitcases up, up, up the hill to the Chy-an-Albany Hotel. We had arrived! After many thousands of miles/km and of hours of travel. We were there! Phewww!
Don't go concerning yourself about the bags now, because it has all been planned. Three of them will be transferred to our last hotel in Penzance and one will be transported each day to our walking destination. We Ramblers are only carrying the BARE MINIMUM!
Let's see what happens NEXT!
Love the "must not look" report and the piccies tell a story dont they!
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