Great escapes
enshrined the area in her wild and passionate novels; for those unfamiliar with her work, just imagine her as a kind of coastal Brontë. Daphne’s family holidayed at Ferryside in
Boddinick; later, as a young army wife, she rented a home just around the headland. A shop sells Daphne books and Daphne memorabilia, and there’s an annual Daphne festival. We duly made the pilgrimage to the home
in Readymoney Cove – ideal stick-throwing territory for dogs, although mutts are banned over the summer months, when presumably this becomes prime bucket-and-spade-and picnic territory. To reach this tiny, perfect beach, you stroll
along the Esplanade, past the grand old Fowey Hotel and countless holiday homes whose names wring every possible permutation out of their seaside location. It’s a lovely walk in its own right, with
views over to Polruan; big, rough holes are carved into the whitewashed walls for the purpose of taking in the vista. They resemble a ViewMaster that might have been used by the Flintstones.
“THE OLD WELL HOUSE WAS BUILT IN 1430 – THAT’S A YEAR BEFORE JOAN OF ARC WAS BURNT AT THE STAKE”
very much liked the look of Mrs Noah’s gift shop, set in an ancient timbered building, but resisted the temptation to pop in to ask whether they sold two of everything. They probably get that a lot. Naturally, there are more art galleries than
any town could sensibly need – you’d never be short of a nice watercolour seascape in Fowey. Eateries tend to be of the checked-curtain, scrubbed-pine, pastie-vending variety. As literary types will know, Fowey’s most famous resident was Daphne du Maurier, who
Dome from dome Staying local, the town has the usual sprinkling of modest attractions, from the museum to the aquarium; if you prefer to take in your local history over a pint, just settle yourself into one of Fowey’s venerable inns, such as the Lugger, The Galleon or the King of Prussia. The oldest building in Fowey is thought to be the mediaeval Well House. It was built in 1430 – to put that in (slightly random) context, that’s a year before Joan of Arc was burnt at the stake. Today it’s a B&B and a tea shop. If you’re in a more adventurous frame
of mind and fancy a jaunt, the obvious destination is the Eden Project – just seven miles inland. We were primed to be impressed, but were still swept away by the spirit of the place. Tim Smit’s ecological vision has resulted in an unique experience; just wandering down the outdoor terraces is an education, while the bubble-like indoor biomes transport you to some of the most exotic landscapes in the world; the most dramatic is the Humid Tropics, with its hot, damp air, rushing waterfalls and unidentified chirrupings. Eden’s fascinating, but there are only so
many curry-scented or man-eating plants you can admire at any given time, and after an afternoon of botanical delights (and a memorably delicious baobab smoothie) we headed back to our base at the Old Quay House hotel (see panel).
Travel file
The Old Quay House How did we get there? By train from Bristol (changing in Plymouth) to nearby Par - just over three hours. Driving will take you roughly the same amount of time. What is it? An utterly charming boutique hotel overlooking the harbour Nice rooms? Supremely comfortable, chic and soothing. Most have harbour views. Good food?Only some of the best in Fowey. And doesn’t head chef Ben Bass have the best name for the job? Ben cooks in a bistro style, inspired by old French cookbooks, using mainly local products; pescophiles will be in heaven
From 22 April-31 October prices from £180. Special packages also available (see the website for details).
The Old Quay House, 28 Fore Street, Fowey, Cornwall tel: 01726 833302
www.theoldquayhouse.com
Because to be honest, for us, this is what
a weekend in Cornwall is all about; slowing right down to an almost comatose pace, gorging on local seafood, knocking back chilled white wine and talking the sun down while the last ferry of the day chugs off into the distance. We’re not sure we experienced anything
quite as intoxicating as joy at Fowey (we blame the Old Quay House and their proseccos for that), but we’ve rarely been more swept away by the charm and romance of a place. In fact – and we hope Daphne du Maurier doesn’t mind – we’re just off to write the sequel to Rebecca. CL
www.mediaclash.co.uk Clifton Life 63
Page 1 |
Page 2 |
Page 3 |
Page 4 |
Page 5 |
Page 6 |
Page 7 |
Page 8 |
Page 9 |
Page 10 |
Page 11 |
Page 12 |
Page 13 |
Page 14 |
Page 15 |
Page 16 |
Page 17 |
Page 18 |
Page 19 |
Page 20 |
Page 21 |
Page 22 |
Page 23 |
Page 24 |
Page 25 |
Page 26 |
Page 27 |
Page 28 |
Page 29 |
Page 30 |
Page 31 |
Page 32 |
Page 33 |
Page 34 |
Page 35 |
Page 36 |
Page 37 |
Page 38 |
Page 39 |
Page 40 |
Page 41 |
Page 42 |
Page 43 |
Page 44 |
Page 45 |
Page 46 |
Page 47 |
Page 48 |
Page 49 |
Page 50 |
Page 51 |
Page 52 |
Page 53 |
Page 54 |
Page 55 |
Page 56 |
Page 57 |
Page 58 |
Page 59 |
Page 60 |
Page 61 |
Page 62 |
Page 63 |
Page 64 |
Page 65 |
Page 66 |
Page 67 |
Page 68 |
Page 69 |
Page 70 |
Page 71 |
Page 72 |
Page 73 |
Page 74 |
Page 75 |
Page 76 |
Page 77 |
Page 78 |
Page 79 |
Page 80 |
Page 81 |
Page 82 |
Page 83 |
Page 84 |
Page 85 |
Page 86 |
Page 87 |
Page 88 |
Page 89 |
Page 90 |
Page 91 |
Page 92 |
Page 93 |
Page 94 |
Page 95 |
Page 96 |
Page 97 |
Page 98 |
Page 99 |
Page 100 |
Page 101 |
Page 102 |
Page 103 |
Page 104 |
Page 105 |
Page 106 |
Page 107 |
Page 108