Adventures ft. the Atlantic

I'm sitting on my bed at almost midnight trying to find the perfect words to open this blog post about possibly best weekend I've had in a while and all I can think of are the lack of words in my dictionary to describe any of my experiences.

I could go on and on about the 9 hour traffic filled car ride from Manchester to Cornwall that drained my life out of me and how I spent most of it analysing the contents in people's caravans and cars driving along with us on the motorway, the rolls of toilet paper visible from their back seats, the Nike hiking trainers, the pissed off and bored siblings in the backseat hitting each other with their empty Capri Sun juice cartons, the sleepy 6 year old girl (I'm assuming she's 6...she looked around 6) trying to keep herself awake by poking her ugly looking teddy bear that clearly needed a wash or the granddad in major need of botox with the huge headphones nodding his head as he tried to speed ahead. 

But instead, I'm going to jump straight into talking about Cornwall... (you thought...)

We stayed in this super cute B and B called Elysian Fields in a small town near Helston. If you'd been driving to get to Cornwall for as long as it ended up taking my family (almost 9 hours), you definitely wanted to spend the night in a B and B that was going to give you the best. 

We woke up bright and early the next day to be greeted to the ugliest of days I've seen in a while. The mist was incredibly discouraging considering it looked like limbo which ever way you looked. I literally couldn't make out what was on the other side of the road because of the mist. Then came the rain and so my friends and I (there were 2 other families that we were there with who we are very good friends with) sat down to try and find places to go to nearby. After getting over the fact that the wifi and internet connection there was horrible, we managed to find 4 good places within 30 minute drives of each other near Helston to go to. We decided the rain wasn't going to stop us despite the Goggle results for the 'top 10 things to do in Cornwall when it rains' being rather discouraging (with number 10 very blatantly telling us to stay indoors and watch DVDs).

Our first stop was a small town called St Ives. It was about a half hour drive from our B and B and we got there in no time, parking our cars and heading straight down to the beach. I've been to the beach very few times in my life but after this trip, I finally understand why so many people enjoy spending time at the beach. For me, it wasn't the idea of stripping down to a bikini or beach shorts or even building sandcastles (you can tell my references are minimalistic and only driven from stereotypical movie scenes and tumblr pictures); it was simply squealing every time I felt the incredibly cold and still somewhat equally as exhilaratingly fresh Atlantic water under my bare feet every time the time came in. 

There was something amazing about simply watching the water roll in back and forth in front of your eyes and look out as far as you could to realise you were at the edge of an ocean that went on for miles and miles. The fact that I was a tiny speck of dust stood on a beach when the waters before me vasted out to entire continents and places I'd never been to. What I loved the most about the beach was the mindset it'd put me in and I thank St Ives with all the might in my feeble heart for that. 

We walked along the beach for what seemed like hours before finally climbing up a few stairs to get to all the rocks surrounded the coast. My feet were already covered in wet sand and I'd long ditched my shoes anyway and so I braved walking across the rocks with my mum as far as I could. It was my first try and I was too much of a wimp to go too far but my mum climbed all the way out near the water. 

Only googling the map of St Ives do I now realise the beach we went to was the smallest beach in St Ives. Porthgwidden Beach. I've even circled it on the picture below for your convenience.

We only spent around 2 hours there but looking at the map, it makes sense that next time I visit Cornwall (which I hope to do for sure real soon), I have to convince my parents to stay there much longer than 2 hours. I especially wanted to make my through the shops in the town because there seemed to be tons of art shops that we drove past that I never got to go to. One downside, the roads were incredibly narrow and big cars would have a hard time manoeuvring around, but as soon as you got to the beach, every struggle in your life really seemed worth it.

Our next stop was a place called Botallack. By the time we got there from St Ives, the rain really wasn't playing in our favour and so we didn't get to spend as much time there are we wanted to. My friend who's a huge fan of the BBC series, Poldark, wanted to visit the mines in Botallack but the area was all sealed off and we didn't do much there other than sulk in the rain and overlook the fields that needed some serious trimming. The entrance to the mine said it was 'private' and despite the scenery looking somewhat welcoming, the weather really did ruin the whole vibe. Some may call it a 'Cornish catastrophe'...and by some, I mean me. 

The stupid mist didn't make it any better and I concluded Botallack to be my least favourite place of all the one's I'd been to. Only now do I realise, we went to the wrong place and this is what Botallack is really supposed to look like...

Land's End was our 3rd spot to visit for the day. If you've heard anything about Cornwall or the South West coast of England, you've heard of Land's End. In plain terms, it the the western most point of England. It's famous for...being the western most point of England. That's about it...

Personally, I wasn't all to fond of the tourist place thingy they had around the place. There wasn't really much to do other than take a picture with the Land's End signpost and going to the First and Last House.

By the time we looked around the tourist centre, everyone was so hungry we didn't collectively spend more than 30 minutes there.

Here's a note for any future Cornwall visitors, if you're hungry, don't put off eating for the next place you're going to and then the next because it makes you very groggy and not want to look around and enjoy the scenery. The tourist centre didn't have a restaurant that did fish and chips which is what we wanted to eat for lunch and so we drove about 5 minutes back the way we came and had lunch at this super amazing chippy. The fish was great and so was the complimentary orange juice that we got.

Our last stop for the day was a place called Porthgwarra.

To say I was exhausted was an understatement and yet driving down the ridiculously steep and narrow roads towards the cove in Porthgwarra will be something that I'll remember for a very long time. We drove past huge houses that were more or less just balanced on or being supported by a random rock on cliffs. Then there were houses hidden in between huge trees and I just thought how serene and yet dangerous living a life here would be. The rather alive and 18 year naive part of me contemplated the prospect of mystery and adventure and ambiguity living in the middle of nowhere would give me and then there was the realistic and sane part of me that just began panic about the idea of me dying inside my house because it would take a rescue plane about 50 hours to find my damn house.

I know. I'm very cheerful!

Porthgwarra was a particular favourite destination of my friend's because Poldark was also filmed there. The view we had of the beach was incredible...once we'd trekked down the incredibly steep and slippery (because it'd been raining) path to get down to the cove.

Road-tripping part 2

So after spending the afternoon and evening at Stratford, we headed off to Bristol where we stayed the night at some sort of distant relative's apartment. I'm not sure how I'm related to her, I mean. You know how it is when you're travelling? You meet family you never know you had. Mind you, the car journey this time was seemingly much more relaxed. My sister and I had finally worked out the best way to divide the space between us and sit ourselves in a way that we were both comfortable (after I pushed her feet off her lap enough times for her to understand it wasn't acceptable). Long car journeys are in no way easy on one's arse either. I also found that out the hard way. Seriously, to anyone embarking on a long car journey, whatever you do, do not forget some form of cushioning. Car windows are also not a good place to rest your head to sleep against.
Back to the trip, according to my plan, we were supposed to head to London the next morning but given that the weather was so so beautifully disgusting, we decided a change to our trip was in order. Shit happens, people. Sometimes, you're starved off your dream of the cringy London tour for the trillionth time because the weather decides to be your enemy.
Regardless, we decided to spend the day in Bristol, knowing the rain would stop eventually. And so I switched to my list of things to do in Bristol instead - yes, I had lists for every prospective city we were going to.
First on my list for Bristol was Clevedon Pier. If you must know, it's been a dream place of mine to go to because One Direction may or may not have filmed the music video for their song You and I.

Clevedon Pier was a 30 minute drive from my cousin's apartment we were staying in. The minute we got near the pier, the air was already 50 times clearer and freezing as hell. None of that matter though because the view just at first glance was so breathtaking. The water just seemed to go on forever and one look at the pier and I began squealing like a two year old. The entry fee to go onto the pier was surprisingly very cheap too. The day was already looking up you see. I was already practically jumping on the spot while my dad paid for us to get on the pier and so he let slip to the lady at the till that I was a One Direction fan. She laughed and told me about the plaque the boys had on the pier - it's worth noting that she was incredibly friendly too. I thanked her and left my family behind and literally ran past the scaffolding (they were making an extended tourist information bit at the front) to the pier.

So the pier is pretty long. Like it's huge. When you first step on it, you don't notice but the minute you look down at your feet and realise there's nothing under the huge planks of wood but water, it shakes you a little. Also, walking in a straight line along the pier proved to be more difficult than I thought it would. I kept thinking I'd trip over but it was all good. There weren't a lot of people up and down the pier and the few people that were there were only fishing.

Every time I looked up, the sky was truly surreal.
The wind however, I could live without. My hair was all over the place and the wind didn't even wait long enough between each blow for me to fix it. The next time I go, I most certainly will remember to tie my hair back super tight. Nonetheless, I wouldn't exchange the feeling I had walking up and down the pier for anything. Especially when my sister and I did the whole trek and were unsuccessful in being about to locate the One Direction plaque. I was disappointed to say the least seeing as they were the reason I went there. Some of the other plaques people had put on were so cute, they almost brought tears to my eyes. There were cute ones and goofy ones and heartbreaking ones.
I never did get around to asking the lady at the entrance how much it was to have a plaque put on the pier but I imagine the size and the number of letters you put on definitely mattered.

You could tell which ones were new because they were still gold and shiny whereas the older ones looked a little too vintage to be even classed as being from this century.
So back to my bizarre account of the day, eventually, after rushing back to the lady at the entrance and having her show me where the plaque for One Direction was, I managed to locate it.

Their plaque looked a little too dirty for my liking but then I realised I probably wasn't the first strange person to have driven all the way to Clevedon from Manchester just to take a picture of that pier and that there were many before me who'd done just the same.
After taking one last look back at the pier, we left Clevedon and headed to a place called Weston-super-mare. Considering the fact that I haven't been to a beach since I was like 3, Weston-super-mare was a pretty big deal for me. It'd been raining earlier in the day like I'd mentioned but by the time we got there, the sky was clear and pretty sunny. We walked along the beach (ran more like) and did the usual writing our names in the sand, screaming at the sea pointlessly and constantly looking out for the seagulls flying over our heads in fear of them doing what they do best.

We had lunch at McDonald's after that and finally headed off towards London but only to spend the night there.
Believe it or not, I managed to get halfway through that book I'd dreaded having to read just the day before because I realised I had a fabulous day and winding down with a book is exactly what I needed.
Our trip didn't go exactly the way we planned it but I wouldn't have asked for a better alternative than our day in Bristol. We drove around so much and managed to see so much of the city, I was truly left in awe of the whole experience.

If there's one thing this journey has taught me, it's to be open to changes and be as free minded as you can possibly be. I've met so many new people during this trip not to mention different types of people. I've learned an incredible amount about myself as well as those around me. I've learned to be a lot more thankful about what I have and be happy for what others have that I may not.
If I were to do this trip again, or a different road trip in fact, I don't think I'd do it any differently apart from possibly travelling in a bigger car with a little more leg room. It was just one of those trips where I didn't even have my earphones in for half the time to 'slip away from reality' or whatever because after 5/6 songs, even the different drum beats and lyrically approved 'na na na's and 'yeah yeah yeah's got a little repetitive.
I'd rather be imagining myself with my future and equally as strange husband living in that deserted cottage we'd passed on the motorway on the way to London over generic pop music anyday.
Here's to making each and every trip you ever go on in life count.

Road-tripping part 1

I’ve always been a fan of the phrase, ‘getting there is half the fun’.

But now I realise it’s probably because I’ve not been to many places and I guess I found it consoling to say the least.

Fortunately, this week I had the privilege of going on a mini road trip with my family around the South of England and I’m happy to say I can finally break down the meaning of that phrase. I say I found it consoling but despite some of the fun being in the journey, it’s the actual places that really made my experiences worth it all.

Our first stop was at Stratford upon Avon, Shakespeare’s birthplace and like many other people there, we also did the classic tourist things. The journey to Stratford was somewhat interesting though. We were supposed to leave the house at 8 in the morning to get there for 10 am and instead we left the house at 11. So naturally being the annoyed teenager in the family of 4, I didn’t take our lack of punctuality very well at first. About 30 minutes into the drive there I realised there was nothing I could do about what had already happened and so I calmed down like a cool person and decided to enjoy the ride. The usual cows and sheep either side of the motorway suddenly became 50 times more interesting to watch as did the endless green fields I wanted nothing better than to jump out of the car and roll around in. There were the odd lorries (aka trucks for my non-British readers) in front of the car ruining my view but- okay, there were lots and lots of lorries! The fact is, in between taking car selfies with the wind in my hair before my dad shouted at me for having the windows down, reading 10 pages of the book I told myself I’d finish on the journey only to get bored, arguing with my sister for letting her bag take up too much room in the empty seat between us, fighting over who got the last cookie in the packet and telling the lady in the sat-nav to shut up when her voice got too annoying, the car ride wasn’t all that bad.

We got to Stratford at around 2 o’clock and were still hyped about the trip despite being aware that all the attractions closed at 5 pm. So obviously, instead of getting straight into tourist-ing, my sister and I rushed around to find the nearest toilets. Thank god for the local BHS store that saved us from dying about 2 minutes away from where we parked our car.

We made our way through the city (which is rather small by the way) and found the main tourist site almost immediately. It wasn’t nearly as crowded as I imagined it to be and the singer who greeted us already got me in the mood to be all ‘Shakespeare-ean’. My sister and I spotted a very good looking knight to our right and rushed up to him being the 10 year olds we were and I dropped some change into little basket he had before going up to him. He held his hand out and it took me an entire 20 seconds to realise I was supposed to reciprocate before he took my hand and kissed it. I managed to hold in my squeal just in time for him not to hear it before he helped me up onto the little podium next to him for a picture.

We walked around the information museum first, which included a ton of very Shakespeare-ean stuff. Surprise, surprise! Quotes, original manuscripts, plaques, statues, artworks and the rest. I didn’t know about half of his sonnets and plays which led me to have spent a little longer than normal staring at any piece of work that had the words ‘Romeo and Juliet’ or Macbeth’ written on them seeing as they were the only notable works of his I was fully knowledgeable about. With everyone else around me seeming to know so much about the English playwright, I at least had to play the part of being a Shakespeare super fan, right?

Shakespeare’s house was amazing too. The best part had to be finding out why beds in his time were so small. It turns out, people in Shakespeare’s time had small beds because a) beds were incredibly expensive at the time and b) people went to sleep sat upright as they believed lying down and sleeping gave the impression that they had died and this would provoke the devil to suck their soul. And so to avoid the devil from mistaking death, people would sleep sat up-right so the devil knew they were awake. Creepy, I know. Explains why Shakespeare was so fond of killing off all his characters then.  The performances outside his house put on by actors were also pretty moving. My sister and I even managed to wait till after the performance to ask the actors for pictures with us. 

Another brilliant thing about Stratford had to be all the wicked shops either side of the road where Shakespeare’s birthplace is. We walked into the most amazing Christmas shop and at this point in this blog post I understand ‘amazing’ ‘incredible’ and ‘interesting’ are the only adjectives I seem to be using to describe everything, but there really are no words to explain how truly amazing and incredible and interesting the whole trip was. The door at the Christmas shop had the cutest Christmas countdown sign and I walked in wanting to buy everything. There were sweet shops and cute pubs and the locals walking around and about were ultra nice too. You’d think they’d get tired of all the people getting in their way every 2 seconds to take pictures in front of just about anything and everything in the city. ‘Oh, take a picture of me with this tree! Shakespeare must’ve walked past it! How about this random bush? Shakespeare must’ve stood near it! How about this pile of nothing? Shakespeare must've breathed here!’

All in all, the 4 hours I spent in Stratford upon Avon were certainly worthwhile even if we didn’t get to see all of the attractions, but considering any ticket you buy is valid for 12 months, we can always go back and finish touristing around. We’ve yet to visit Anne Hathaway’s Cottage and Shakespeare’s grave. Hall’s Croft (Shakespeare’s daughter’s house) has a gorgeous garden which was supposedly a sign of Susannah (Shakespeare’s daughter) and her husband’s prosperity. Their beds were also much bigger!

I think it’s also worth noting that this is my second time in Stratford. The last time I went was 3 years ago on an over-night school trip and I have to say the experience I had in the city back then was polar opposite to the one I had this week. The last time I went, the city was covered in snow and I’d had the pleasure of watching the best play I’ve seen to this day, ‘The Orphan of Zhao’. The streets might’ve been a tad too difficult to walk in being so slippery but the hotel and the play and the fancy dinner we had made it worthwhile for sure. I've added some pictures from my last visit too.

I’d definitely recommend a visit to Stratford upon Avon to anyone who’s looking for aesthetics, culture, rich heritage and a travel back through time for a day or an overnight stay if you’re in hopes of catching a late show at the Royal Shakespeare Company theatre. You won't be let down. 

And remember, getting there is only half the fun.