Day 4-5: UK, Newquay

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RouteBromsgrove – Newquay, UK
Route Details
Overnight stopTrenance Holiday Park
Overnight Costs£27.30
(super pitch, good mobile signal)
Distance walked
Total
8km (D5)
8
Diesel / litre £1.257 (Asda)
Exchange rate
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Tip, tap,

Tip, tap, tip, tap,

Tip, tap, tip, tap, tippety, tap, tip, tap, tap

(high pitch) EEEOOOOW, OOOOOW, OOOW, OOOOOOOW

Oh, listen…..it’s our new 5:30am wakeup call called “These seagulls are going to fucking DIE” ……as they stomp along Kaya’s roof and use it as a launch pad (think Rescuers and you know what I mean).  Although we are so relaxed at the moment, that we take it in our stride (sort of!), have a cup of tea and go back to sleep till we wake up again around 8:30 or 9am.

We left Bromsgrove in the rain on Monday morning, stopped for a lunch break in the rain…. and so that the gorgeous Mr T could have his obligatory 20 minute power nap and arrived in Newquay in the rain.  All in all an uneventful drive down “sarf” (south!). 

We just made it to the pitch to set Kaya up in time for another 20 minute nap and the evening passed quietly with a bit of blogging and reading. 

Supper was lamb steaks that we’d bought at Costco made into a hearty and thoroughly delicious Quick Irish Stew in my IPDuo (7in1 electric pressure cooker – we’ve learnt always make use of paid electricity when it’s provided).  Quick, easy, tasty and thoroughly warming compared to outside where the wind was howling and the rain coming in at an angle!  We’ve been told it’s the tail end of Hurricane Dorian.  Here’s hoping she blows herself out soon, grumpy aud cow.

https://overland-rovers.co.uk/quick-irish-stew

We rose to a glorious day on Tuesday, the skies a deep blue and washed of all clouds, with the sun shining down on us.  Reason to travel #2.

It was time to explore Newquay as the gorgeous Mr T had discovered that the Fish Festival is to be held on Friday 13th (ooooooh!) in the harbour and Last Night at the Proms in the evening on the pier.

Trainers on, check.

Backpack on, check.

Camera packed, check.

Strong heart, check (huh ???)

and so off we went, looking forward to a stroll through the gardens and parks into town.  Out of the campsite, through a park and there in front of us, what we now lovingly refer to as Heart Attack Hill.  A 1:5 incline or to get you picturing this, a 15 minute walk on a stair climber at the gym set to max.  Yes, you read that correctly, MAX!  Having done little to no exercise over the passed year, I wanted to get back into walking with a gentle stroll.  It ended up in me gasping for breath, ready to take my last one and wishing for a swift end!!!  But I’m made of stronger stuff, and in any case, only the good etc etc. I’m destined for a long stay here, thank goodness, so we made it up to the top.  The gorgeous Mr T said “we’re nearly at the top” only once.  My response was squeezed out between short , heaving breaths, and it wasn’t “thanks, darling”!!!!

A short break at the top and down into town, passed the pinkest house, a la Barbara Cartland, we have ever seen .  Elaine, we saw it and thought of you!

Then on to the town, where Newquay has a little secret obsession.

Oh, yes, it does!!!

Besides, the odd obsession, Newquay is a beautiful town

We had been saving ourselves all day (no food to this point) and it was time for some seafood.  Crab sandwiches, anyone?  This is my absolute demand when we are anywhere near the seaside at home (as in, not abroad!).  Crab sandwich on brown or white bloomer with real butter, proper mayonnaise, fresh brown meat as well as white crab meat, a spritz of lemon juice and salt & pepper, with a small helping of salad leaves an optional extra.  On recommendation we went into the fishmongers selling the best crab sandwich.

People!!!! 

Processed, pasteurised, pre-frozen chewy only-white crab meat and too much vinegar on square brown, processed bread with margarine does NOT make the best sandwich, it makes a decidedly crap crab sandwich.  In the bin after a few bites.

Ok, we want some seafood but we can wait for the festival and seeing that it’s Cornwall, let’s try a pasty.  One Oggy Oggy steak pasty to share and it was nice.  Heated up and just….. well, nice.  I think it can today be described as “meh”.  Look at me, down with the kids!

Let’s try a fresh roast pork roll with crackling (stuffing and apple sauce optional because the gorgeous Mr T is not made up genetically to like cooked apples or stuffing) and, besides, how wrong can that go?  Bloody wrong, we think.  No gravy, dry, overcooked meat, chewy skin NOT crackling. In the bin. Sigh.

Even the dog couldn’t be arsed to get up for it……

Ah, well, I guess that’s that, then?  We’ll go back to Kaya for a bite.

So we walked around to orientate ourselves, deciding to postpone lunch for a bit, lying on the grass for a rest, watching the very blue sky & listening to the seagulls (oh, is it time to get up??? HA-HA-HA *laughs sarcastically*) before the final push home.  But not before stopping to buy tickets for Friday night’s concert on the pier.  This time making our way back to Kaya on the “it’s okay if you’re pushing a pram” route – so named by the Tourist Info Office, I kid you not.  

Newquay, we have to say, besides being pretty is also a pretty hilly town (this is a flexible sentence and left for you to insert appropriate punctuation if this is your thing!! LOL). So back up the hill, and there in the distance, a beacon of light.  How could anyone come up with anything so sublime?

A mushy pea fritter.

It would have been rude not to try one.  Again, genetically, the gorgeous Mr T is not pre-disposed to mushy peas.  He feels the same about them as I do about brussels sprouts (the Devil’s food! See, I’m so lacking in respect for these awful little things, I refuse to even capitalise the name. Take That!).  So he was quite content to watch me partake.  Inside it was a shop of many surprises.  Haddock large enough for Jonah to conquer, pickled onions the size of babies’ heads, crispy batter as light as angel’s feathers and crispy as you like and the very civilised option of gravy served with chips (down south?????).

So, we sat outside in the sun, liberal coatings of salt & vinegar on the fritter and shared it between us……because the gorgeous Mr T has come over to the dark side and has decided that mushy peas in crispy batter with lashings of seasoning is actually the Dog’s Bollocks!!!

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