After Monday’s review post about The Rosevine (verdict: love), I thought I’d do a picture heavy post on the various beaches we frequented during our 48-hour trip to Cornwall.
The Rosevine itself is on the Roseland Peninsula, above the National Trust-owned Porthcurnick beach (of which more later), and 5 miles across the headland to St. Mawes.
After a leisurely breakfast on our first morning, we jumped in the (already baking) car and zipped the mercifully short distance over to St. Mawes for a/ some reminiscing b/ some pasty-purchasing.
The to-ing and fro-ing of the passenger ferry was hypnotic to Country Bebe, who stood glued to the railings whilst we nipped in to the harbour-side St. Mawes Bakery for some of their renowned, warm-from-the-oven, pasties.
With our baked goods safely stowed under the buggy we headed off down memory lane…
As a family in the 80s, my parents used to rent a teeny fisherman’s cottage here and we’d spend a happy week shlepping up and down the hills to the beach. There has been some superficial refinery over the last 30 years, namely triggered by the arrival of interiors doyenne Olga Polizzi and her super smart Tresanton hotel (it must be in the genes as her brother, Rocco Forte is the founder of my favourite hotel group EVER – Browns in London, the Hotel de Russie in Rome, The Augustine in Prague…. anyway, I digress). But while the hostelry offerings have upped their game, this view most certainly hasn’t changed, and drew me back to being a care-free six year old combing the beach, at a glance:
Country Bebe was keen to carry on the family tradition and made straight for the waves:
After devouring the aforementioned pasties back at The Rosevine while CB napped, we sauntered two minutes further down the lane to the sandy cove, Porthcurnick beach.
Now, rather more suitably attired and slathered in SPF50 with bottle of water in hand, Country Bebe could really get stuck in to some Serious Sandcastling (look at the sky!)
While he was happily distracted with the OH, I made the most of it and went for a long swim. The waters were calm, pristine and stayed safely shallow quite far out, so great for little ones. And big ones as it turned out as I spent a happy hour spotting shoals of fish and teeny jellyfish below the waves.
Both rather shattered we reconvened over some suitably sandy sandwiches. We are British after all. Such a perfect day.
