Covid Journal, Day 30: Going Back to England and St. Michael's Mount

63 this morning, overcast and wild winds yet again. I am so sorry for those in the South affected by the terrible storms last night. This has been a Spring we will not forget.

I realized the other day that I never did finish my posts about my trip to England with two of my sisters last August. So today, let's go to England--virtually anyway, since that country is as locked down as we are, or perhaps more so.

One of the places I did not write about was St. Michael's Mount. Out in the middle of Mount's Bay in southern Cornwall is a tidal island. The only way to the island is a stone path that is open at low tide; otherwise the island must be accessed by boat. Originally the site was a monastery, then a convent. The oldest building on the island, including the castle or at least parts of it, dates to about the 12th century. A terrible tsunami struck the coast of Cornwall in 1755 following an earthquake in Lisbon, Portugal and caused great damage and loss of life as the sea rose and fell 6 feet over and over for several hours. The island, the castle and the village surrounding it have belonged to Colonel John St Aubyn since 1659, and is still owned and inhabited by his descendants.

We got an early start to get to Marazion, the town on the shore just across from the island, and where the stone path begins. We had to wait about 20 minutes for the tide to go our and the path to be passable.

We also knew we had to return before 4:00 pm or the incoming tide would cover the path and we'd have to find passage on one of the several boats there--enterprising fellows probably make a good living ferrying tourists back and forth.

There were a surprising number of people making their way to the island the day we were there.

It was Bank Holidays, so that probably explains the crowds.

Once on the island, we walked up the steep stone lane that wound up and up and up to the castle. I stopped as we started up, just to listen to an energetic young storyteller telling a Jack tale to families lounging on blankets on the grass. Part of her story concerns the giant's stone heart, which was supposedly embedded in the stone lane.

All around the base of the hill on which the castle sits arethe medieval stone buildings of the castle village.

As we ascended we kept a sharp eye out for that giant's heart. We stopped to talk with others on the same quest, and eventually, success! It was a nice diversion and allowed some time to catch our breath.

At the castle we were met by tour guides. We were free to wander at will if we wanted, but chose to join a tour for a while.

Later I found myself separated from my sisters somehow, as the place is a regular rabbit warren of doors, rooms, and corridors.

This one particular corridor entranced me. I later learned that this is one of the haunted places in the castle. According to the story we heard, a grey lady has been seen to rush down the corridor and throw herself out a window at one end. There was certainly an eerie feeling there.

But for me the very best part of the castle wasn't all the rich furnishings, old armor

and all that. It was the view.

Far below I could see a gardener hard at work on the terraced gardens. These gardens were designed to be viewed from above, and they're spectacular.

I spent a lot of time just gazing out over the scene, thinking of how it might have been in earlier times.

Before long it was time to trek back down the hill to find lunch. Everyplace was crowded but eventually we succeeded. Then we wandered the craft shops for a while before noticing that the tide was coming in quickly, and it was time to make our way back to the beautiful drive into the village of Boscastle and our b&b.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.