An interesting, if slightly odd week in Cornwall recently. As holidays go, it was very pleasant, and it was great to get away from the daily growl for a bit. But it’s a curious place.
Take this as an example. We hired bikes for a ride along part of The Camel Trail, a path that winds it’s way through 15 miles of lovely coastal scenery along a disused railway line between Padstow and Bodmin.
About halfway down the route to Wadebridge, my back tyre blew. A worn tyre had caused the tube to fall apart. Fortunately, we’d picked up a repair kit, and began to fix the problem. Jokes flew about, along the lines of “Call The RAC”, and “Better let Air Sea Rescue know.”
A couple of minutes later, an Army Sea King did indeed come across the bay, did a low sweep directly over us, turned, did it again to make sure we were ok, and the pilot waved as he span away.
And was I too dumbstruck to take photos?
Yes, of course I was?
Have I been kicking myself ever since? What do you think?
Actualy, while I remember, we were at Harlyn Bay last year when the air ambulance landed on the beach to pick up someone who’d had a heart attack. If there’s a sure way to get sand in your suntan lotion, it’s landing a chopper in the middle of a bay filled with the fine stuff.
I swear, I must attract the things.
EXCUSES AND HALF TRUTHS 