retiredmartin

20th October 2022.

We pressed on after lunch at Wellington Spoons, reaching my niece’s house near Helston in just under the six hours.

For context, I drive ten (10) hours towards Orkney on the journey from Waterbeach to GBG glory.

Given the choice, I’d rather drive those six hours on dual carriageways to Cornwall than the ten minutes down tiny lanes no wider than a cart track from Falmouth to Gweek, but that’s me.

Frankly, I was knackered by 3pm, and checked into the Helston Premier Inn, rather than attempt to find a layby to park the campervan.

At least, I TRIED to check in. Their computers had gone down, and there was no Mrs RM to advise them to “switch it off and on again”, the answer to all insurmountable IT problems.

After 10 minutes, I said “Shall I go next door and have a pint ?”.

This seemed a good idea, even though the Premier Inn “pub” the May Tree was empty and had (brace yourselves) NO Doom Bar.

So I had a Tribute, out in the sun that follows the righteous along with some Italian tourists.

And it was… OK.

I drank up and popped back to the check-in.

Still no luck.

“If you want to pop over the road and have a beer or something, Sir“

“Er, I just have”.

The look of astonishment said it all.

I gave up, and walked into town.

Helston has no railway station, the new GBG wasn’t out, and the town pubs are generally thought to be a bit average.

But let’s explore.

I’m going to blame the weird photography on Cornish atmospherics, rather than rubbish cameramen.

Helston looked a bit quiet, even on a Thursday teatime.

But follow the leats;

and you’ll know where I was headed…