Big Trip, Day 8: Pirates!

[Well, okay ... no actual pirate encounters, sorry. But I got your attention!]

After our rest day in Porthcurno, it was off for a long slog: 15 miles eastward and then northward, past Penzance. (Hence the pirate reference.)

And they're off!

(At this point, Boy joked that we were having to start sucking in our guts to see the boots beyond the Full English Breakfast bellies. Time to lay off the bacon!)

It was on this day that we noticed the landscape really start to change: whereas Western Cornwall had been a mass of craggy rocks and dramatic weather, Southern Cornwall was turning out to be more moderate.

We wandered through bosky glens: (is that how you spell bosky?)

... and incredibly picturesque fishing villages (complete with men, actually fishing!) (Though not pirates.)

Everywhere you go in Cornwall, you see reminders of wrecked ships. We passed several Royal National Lifeboat stations, and I've developed a serious respect and love for the volunteers who go out and attempt the difficult rescues on those rocky coasts.

Some boats don't make it, though – like the one commemorated by this lonely stone cross from the late 1800's:

Fortunately for us, human habitation seems to be conveniently spaced about 4 hours' walk apart along the coastline, so you're rarely without an opportunity to staunch your hunger (or quench your thirst!) right when you need it.

This is The "Lamorna Wink," a former speakeasy public house in Lamorna Cove (one of the few privately-owned coves in Cornwall).

And this is Ben.

Yup. A Bernese Mountain Dog ... wearing sunglasses.
Not just a stylish fashion accessory, nor even a necessity for riding in a convertible.
Turns out Ben has a rare condition that makes him over-sensitive to UV rays; and without the glasses, he'd go blind in a matter of months.

Boy got "the money shot":

(Nice to have a dog hit when you miss your own.)

But cute dogs and pints shall not keep us from our appointed rounds! Onward! Eastward! then Northward!

At about Mile 10, things got a bit blurry ... where were we again?

Costa Rica?

Central California? I swear that's Carmel around the corner...

Nope, wrong. We've actually never left Seattle – we've just been walking around and around Green Lake this whole time!

Oh, phew. We're still in Cornwall after all!

In fact, we've made it to ...

(A town dear to my heart because of the name … this, despite the fact that in true Cornish perverse fashion, they insist on pronouncing it "Moww-zel.")

It was at this point that your intrepid duo made the valiant decision to walk the full 15 miles all the way to Marazion. Buses whizzed by, but we cared not. We soldiered on, our destination firmly in view (and still 5 miles away):

Under threatening skies, we traipsed across the sandy beach which connects Penzance to Marazion, and crashed into our lovely hotel room with just enough energy to wallow in the bath and suck down a batch of fish & chips before crashing for the night.

And in the morning? The best possible reward for a hard day's hike:

A gorgeous place, and a spanking blue-sky day off to enjoy it in!