Cornwall is a strange place

Having been away for more than a week, very few of you were probably wondering what had happened to me. Nevertheless, I've spent the last week learning how weird Cornwall is.


Head South down the M5 and eventually you'll reach the end of the motorway network - and civilisation itself it would seem.

Lots of tourists this summer will head to Cornwall and they too will discover that whilst this county can offer an enjoyable week away from home, it is a strange place.

One thing that immediately stands out is the natives. Now to say that all of them are a little odd is unfair, but after a short while you soon realise that films like 'Hot Fuzz' do offer an accurate representation of life in the West Country. Accent aside, there seems to be an innate fear of anything 'not Cornish'.
Almost any request for alcohol, food or tatty gifts was met with the expression "You're not from round 'ere are yer?" This is unusual, given that the Cornish economy would be completely non-existent without an influx of people every year from people who "weren't from round there".
The other thing that immediately strikes you is the number of 'Saint Piran's' flags, the local flag of 'Kernow', that's Cornish for 'Cornwall' - it's an educational experience is this you know.....
This flag is everywhere, dangling from windows, on tea towels and flying from car aerials as if there were a major football tournament taking place. This mass flag waving though is somewhat unnerving to the outsider. It makes you assume that the Cornish folk are forming some mass separatist group looking to succeed from the UK - who knows......

There's another problem with Cornwall. There's not an awful lot to do there and what attractions do exist are spread across the length and breadth of the county. Unless you are staying ion Newquay, which is quite a lively resort, you have to drive pretty much everywhere. That would be fine, but because there are no motorways, you can't drive anywhere without getting stuck behind a tractor or a caravan.
The main road that does exist, the A30, has struggled to cope with the tourist traffic flow for decades. Whilst we were there, they actually opened an expanded section of the A30 at Indian Queens to cope with the demand. The day after it opened, it was swiftly reduced back to one lane due to an accident.
A trip along the A30 also brings your attention to an unnerving amount of 'road-kill'. Birds, badgers, rabbits, squirrels, you name it, it's probably dead on the A30 and one journey in particular really made me question what was actually meant by the term 'local produce'.

We stayed in a small village, just outside Penzance, a town that fully supported the image of Cornwall that became ingrained in my mind.
I couldn't understand how anyone could actually live in such a town. Whilst it might make a perfectly adequate holiday destination, you'd struggle to sustain an interesting lifestyle there. The two main economic opportunities that appeared to exist consisted of selling ice cream or buying a barely sea-worthy fishing boat and then finding tourists stupid enough to pay money to ride on said vessel. Aside from that, if want to buy a range of products costing £1 or drink in an unwelcoming public house, then you might enjoy spending the best part of your life there.

Anyway, it's good to be back and I dare say that there'll be some more infrequent updates on my latest adventures in due course.