Today we ambled around the Helford, starting at Glendurgan Gardens, the Fox family's coastal playground for their numerous children. And neighbour to Trebah Gardens. The highlight of the three steep, lush, tropical valleys plunging down to the Helford is the cherry laurel 'maze' - a delightful distraction from giant rhubarb, tree palms and ferns, magnolias, camellias, and a historic collection of plants from the Foxes travels around the world. Durgan beach is a pretty, pebbled, rock-pooled stretch of beach with boats moored on the Helford and the remnants of the pilchard fishing industry that dominated Cornwall. Best cheese scones ever were to be found in the glass and oak framed tea shop back at the top, plus a rootle through the second-hand bookshop (a genius idea by the National Trust for all its properties) which at Glendurgan included a donation from (I would surmise) a very interesting and well-read gentleman's collection of many rare and interesting books.
Traveling around the Helford offers so many wonderful views, a feast for the photographer, a delight for the walker, a challenge for the cyclist and a draw for canoeists, kayakers and paddleboarders. I should be evoking the richness of this part of Cornwalls coastline, the green cathedral-like lanes, the emerald ria (flooded valley) of the Helford (Dowyr Mahonyer) and its seven creeks from west to east. These are Ponsontuel Creek, Mawgan Creek, Polpenwith Creek, Polwheveral Creek, Frenchman's Creek, Port Naval Creek, and Gillan Creek. I should be talking of Daphne Du Maurier, or of conservation, field crickets from Spain, or even of mystery and smuggling but the sun was shining and I was beginning to remember how-to-holiday, so all romanticism was pushed aside in favour of beach-hopping.
The Helford deserves not to be skimped over, given the wild and vivid landscapes of Cornwall, its myth and legend-evoking history. The Helford holds it own against the rugged, fishing coves of the Roseland peninsula and the bustling commerce of Truro, the piratical romance of Falmouth and the Lizard Peninsula, a plateau surrounded by sea cliffs, here and there providing a safe haven for a small harbour, fishing village and sandy cove. The Helford starts from its wide estuary mouth continuing inland to the muddy creeks upstream. With its sheltered, wooded valleys it is a haven for sailors and in good weather, it is scenically beautiful and serene. All seven of its coves are cornish gems.
I've been reading 'Sea Fever' by Meg and Chris Clothier. If you're going to be beside the seaside, then this book will set you right. From the shipping forecast to flora and fauna, to resorts, tides, distress signals, and all things coastal including that evocative poem by John Masefield that begins "I must go down to the seas again..." and concludes "and all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover, and quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over."
I wanted to get to Helston, we diverted to Mullion after a brief glimpse of RNAS Culdrose drawn by the sun and promise of a dip, but the tide was in and the stocky, battered sea defenses undergoing repair, so after a sunbathe on the sea wall we headed off to the chocolate factory where iced coffee was cooling and mobile signal restored, revealing a plea for fresh clothes from the youngest, who was off to a Captains Dinner in Falmouth as part of the Tall Ships event. I had an emotional moment or two, stuck in traffic at end-of-shift-time passing by Culdrose again. Happy memories and some sadness for times and people - gone. Unable to re-visit the blackberry lane down to Mounts Bay with my daughter as planned, we sped back to Falmouth on the A394.