Wrote nothing on the blog the last couple of weeks, first because we were away on holiday. Second, because I take a week to physically recover from trips these days. I never imagined my life being ruled by an ailment, but then most of us don’t fixate on what might happen. It’s true that you can worry so much, you forget to live. To get some living, we had a break at one of our favourite places: Tintagel in Cornwall, where we enjoyed some marvellous sunsets. Not a terrible view.
We met up with our friend’s other half for lunch, and got some walks in, including the coast path from Tintagel to Rocky Valley, which offers some wonderful views not only of Rocky Valley itself, but of Bossiney Beach. I thoroughly recommended the trek.
Visiting Tintagel is bittersweet now because a dear friend lies buried in St Materiana’s churchyard. As we all have to lie somewhere, eventually, there are worse places. Our friend was evacuated to Tintagel as a child during the war, to live a long happy life there, finally to die in a well-loved home surrounded by beloved family, never to leave even in death. I guess none of us can hope for more. For me, it feels strange to say that somewhere that has always brought me peace, now also brings a little pain, but many loving memories soften the hurt.
