11 Home from home
Our seaside bolthole has restored our strength and given us the will to move on. We have been enjoying Cornish sea air and sunshine for over a month, but in another week we shall leave, exchanging sea gulls for starlings and sea pinks for bramble hedges.
When we first arrived, we were tired and ill, drained by the physical and mental challenge of moving house. It wasn’t just the final four weeks after exchanging contracts, but the effort required for months beforehand, preparing and maintaining the house and gardens to ensure they were at their best. And the final days were utterly exhausting with little rest, starting at 6 and often 5am and ending only when we couldn’t find the energy to visit yet another charity shop or take another box to self storage.
So we have been glad of this enforced rest, although when we first arrived we could not be certain where our next home would be and were prepared for long distance house hunting and Christmas by the sea. But this little cottage, just one street back from the harbour, has been our haven even in the height of the summer season. Its courtyard garden is tiny, but catches the sun all day long. An hour of pruning and weeding in our first week and fifteen minutes now and then, is no challenge compared to the long hours of gardening in our previous home.
And although August has seen many visitors in the village, our cottage has been quiet. The day trippers come to snap themselves alongside the Doc Martin locations, eat pasties and drink pints, crowd the car parks then leave. Every couple of days we allow ourselves an ice-cream and sit on the beach to watch holidaymakers picnic, swim and dig in the sand. But mostly we have rested and read fat novels.
And now we are itching to leave. We heard the last sea shanties of the season on the beach at the end of last week, we’ve eaten enough dressed crab, mussels and grilled lobster, we don’t need another honeycomb crunch ice-cream or a further slice of nettle-wrapped Yarg, we want to go. Our little seaside cottage is a home from home and always will be, but we are longing to pick up the keys for our thatched cottage in the countryside, unlock the door and make ourselves at home.
11 Home from home