September 19, 2015 by Skye Blue Winters

Eden Project: Back to the Garden

Cornwall in Springtime is just waking up from its Winter nap. Spring flowers are blooming, trees are budding and gardens, nourished from the rain, are bursting forth in all their color and English garden glory.

England is not unlike other industrialized countries when it comes to tapping the Earth for its wealth of rocks, minerals or other substances of which humans can’t seem to get enough. And similarly, leaving behind the desolation and destruction so often associated with quarries or mining. But the Eden Project shows us that the Earth’s scars can be healed. And so on a typical blustery, English day, Mark Stine and I climb into my cousin Derek’s car and with his wife, Cathy, drive the nearly 50 miles from Penzance to Bodelva, Cornwall.

The Eden Project was envisioned about 15 years ago by Sir Timothy Bartel Smit after he and his colleagues had completed the restoration of the Lost Gardens of Heligan, also in Cornwall. Turning their eye to an old China clay pit near St. Austell, the Eden Project was born to prove that when the land is so violated, it can still recover. And in Eden, it’s been brought back with incomparable success. Upon entering the site, you are struck by the futuristic nature of the giant white pods, called biomes (or eco domes), that serve as the greenhouses. They sit within a theatre of land carved out of the hillside. Walking out onto a viewing platform, you can see the gardens and pathways that will take you to the pods that look other-worldly.

View of the Eden Project from the bridge

The garden paths of Eden

Walking along the pathways, you can almost hear a sighing as this new, positive energy revitalizes the land. The beds of flowers sway in the breeze, weaving from one color to the next in a masterpiece of botanical artistry.

The color of Eden

Sculptures are scattered throughout supporting the theme of a garden dependent on individual aspects of the cycle of life — a large ant, a shiny beetle, a fuzzy bee — all important pollinators and indicative of a healthy environment.

One of the many sculptures

The final brush strokes include water features, completing this bold, bright garden “painting.”

A garden inside a biome

There are two greenhouses, one that contains tropical plants and a rainforest that gets more hot and humid the further up you climb. The other takes you on a walk from the Mediterranean Basin to California (the Horn of Plenty), and from America’s desert Southwest to the hills of Tuscany, with appropriate flowers, plants and ground cover to match.

A garden wall in the Mediterranean Basin

From its conception in 1995, through the final funding in 2000 and onward through its creation (the Big Build) and opening in Spring 2001, the group has been focused on organic sustainability and education. As the sign in the entryway says, “Eden was built in an old clay pit to demonstrate regeneration, the art of the possible and … hope.” With a desire to “inspire people to connect with our natural world” Tim Smit and his team brought a desolate, all but exhausted quarry back to the garden.

Trellises outside of the biomes

This is a place of peace and beauty that is well worth the trip should you find yourself in the glorious countryside of Cornwall.

August 17, 2014 by Skye Blue Winters

A gem of Cornwall … Mousehole: Where cats rule

If you were of a mind for a nice hike along the Cornish coast, you could leave Penzance and follow the South West Coast Path to Cliff Road. And in about 3.5 miles you’d find yourself in the charming town of Mousehole (pronounced locally as mowz-ul).

Mousehole’s inlet

Since we’re continuing on to Lands End and Sennen Cove, we’ve chosen to drive the short distance. The day is blustery with a backdrop of blue, dappled with pale grey clouds that keep us wondering how long the rain will hold off.

We park just to the east of town and walk in as the wind picks up. Mark, ever in need of a beach day, takes the steps down to the Wharf area where the tide is on its way out and some children are playing ball in the sand. We wave and take photos as he lays down, closes his eyes and pretends that the English coastal wind is tropical.

Beach day?

Back in the real world, Derek, Cath and I are targeting a few shops to browse through and pondering which quiet, charming lane will take us to the crest of the hill.

Flower pots on a wall

Mark rejoins us with a walking map of the town, so we follow his lead and head up a quaint side street where lovely cottages are interspersed with art galleries and craft shops. Nooks and crannies are filled with pots of flowers. Stone walls are splattered with wild flowers growing out of cracks and crevices as if Jackson Pollack had a hand in the coloring of this place.

A garden nook

A riot of color (Photo by Mark L. Stine)

Cats are sleeping in beds of grass, peering at us through windows cloaked with lace or slipping through alleyways with an air of disinterest. Reaching to pet a large black and white Tom perched on a rock wall creates a flurry of activity as he realizes he may have found a friend who will give him a nice pet, and so he follows us for a bit before getting bored. We haven’t seen a live mouse since we got here!

Sleeping cat

Standing guard (Photo by Mark L. Stine)

Mark leads us up side streets and back down curved lanes. All around this charming town we follow him, until we come to a set of stairs covered partially with moss. The steps are old and steep. A small water fall heads down the hill next to us as we make our way up and up. A wooden make-shift bridge crosses the flow of water, but we continue to climb.

A way across (Photo by Mark L. Stine)

At the top, we are greeted with a stand of elephant fronds as big as we are tall. A wide path takes us to a gate at one end, and so we turn and follow the path to the other side where we can see beautiful homes perched high on the hillside above the town with amazing views of the ocean.

Mousehole from above (Photo by Mark L. Stine)

We walk this path for awhile, but see no other way down, so we head back to the steps and make our way back to town. As rolling dark clouds move in, we duck into Pam’s Pantry (3 Mill Lane) just as a light rain begins to fall.

Our timing is perfect and after a lovely lunch, we continue our walking tour by the sea where the wind is blowing and the gulls are soaring above the waves, catching the updrafts and laughing in the way that they do. Along the coast of this lovely village, poised above the sea, we are struck by the rustic charm and beauty of gardens. Closed off by low walls and gates, each appears to ‘belong’ to the cottage on the other side of the road.

Garden by the sea

A garden in Mousehole

The sun comes out briefly, creating diamond points of light that spark off of the many brightly colored flowers that thrive in the cool dampness that is England.

May 5, 2014 by Skye Blue Winters

Crossing the causeway: St Michael’s Mount

From many places in Penzance, you can see St Michael’s Mount reaching majestically toward the sky, its flag flying proudly.

The castle is clearly visible walking across the Penzance harbor bridge on a sunny day, sitting atop its jagged slopes, catching the sunlight and beckoning you to climb its granite steps and walk among its ancient stones and tropical gardens.

St Michael’s Mount from Penzance: On a clear day

On a day when the sun has taken leave, out of the mist and barely visible, you might be drawn by the myths and legends that surround the island. Pulled by an image of the Archangel St Michael, who appeared to fishermen in 495, you might find yourself dreaming of an ancient stone chair that still stands at the entrance to the castle.

Located on one of Britian’s most prominent ley lines, St Michael’s Mount is suffused in a spiritual energy both ancient and new.

Looking back on history

On a beautiful sunny day, Mark and I set out to explore this historic and most magnificent of places. The Mount is open to the public and you can cross the bay by boat during high tide, or wait until the tide is low and walk in the footsteps of time across the cobblestone causeway. Mark and I choose to do the latter, and so we spend a memorable morning exploring the lovely town of Marazion, on the Cornish coast overlooking the island.

Munificent Marazion

On a hill overlooking the bay and St Michael’s Mount is the village of Marazion, Cornwall’s oldest chartered town. With a small town centre and winding streets sheltered by pristine cottages and row houses, Mark and I walk up and around to take in the history and architecture of this beautiful coastal village.

Marazion toward the bay

As we round a bend in the road, snapping photos of everything imaginable, we garner a smile from a pleasant villager crossing our path. She seems surprised by us and when I point to my camera and comment that everything here is so beautiful, she responds with a simple, “I live here.” I continue my chatter about the history and architecture and she points us to the top of the hill where we will find the oldest public building, the Friends Meeting House, and the beautiful Memorial Gardens.

View of St Michael’s Mount from the Friends Meeting House

Marazion Memorial Gardens

As we turn to walk up the hill, our villager calls out and asks if we’d like to see her house. She clearly thinks we’re trustworthy and from our conversation of historic buildings has decided to show us her own home. We enter through a carved iron gate to a garden area.

Gateway to the house

Our lovely hostess has traced the house, and its use, as far back as 1770. It was originally used as a tool shop and subsequently used by the current owner as she created costumes and stage sets for the theatre. The shop was then turned into a home, with the first level still used as a studio. The creative touches of our hostess are seen throughout the two floors of living space and the deck off the second floor. Two stain glass windows depict the life of the house and the life of our hostess. These are now part of the building and will remain into the future as historical reference.

History of the house in Marazion

We leave her planting flowers in boxes along the tiny road and walk to the town centre to check out some shops, including The Summerhouse Gallery where I discover the beautiful and vibrant gold-flecked paintings by local artist Kate Richardson.

Looking over at Marazion

We then head to the beach to see how far the tide has gone out.

A walk across the water

As the waters of Mounts Bay part, each end of the causeway becomes more and more visible. People gather on both sides stepping farther and farther into the sea as the waters recede.

Waiting for the tide

We walk across the rocky beach and climb onto an outcrop overlooking the causeway to wait a bit longer for it to clear. The process is gradual and since my cousins will be arriving in the afternoon and I need to get back, we decide to see how deep the waters are along the walk. Mark springs across the cobblestones as waves rush over the top. I take off my shoes and follow.

Cobblestone causeway

The water is warmer than expected; the stones cool on my bare feet. I walk cautiously as the path is uneven. I feel the sun on my face, the salt water rushing across my feet and the tug of history pulling me onward toward St Michael’s Mount.

St Michael’s Mount

The castle that sits atop the granite outcropping that is St Michael’s Mount was originally a monastery, tied to the Benedictine Abbey of Mont St Michel in France, following the Norman invasion.

Since the 1650s, it has been home to the St Aubyn family, with James and Mary St Levan making their home here. James is the 12th generation of the St Aubyn family, and while they reside in the fortress, many other families live and work on the island, occupying the waterside cottages at the foot of the Mount.

Cottage by the bay

In 1954, James’s great-grandfather gifted the island to The National Trust with a large endowment fund and a 999-year lease for the St Aubyn family to continue in residence. The property is entrusted to James and Mary who live within its medieval walls, hosting events and keeping its history alive.

After lunch at one of the island cafe’s, we take a walk around where the views out to sea are spectacular.

St Michael’s Mount: Looking out to sea

The walkway up to the castle is steep and uneven, but once you arrive at the castle door, it’s a world unto itself. Historic artifacts within its walls have been well maintained and there are many items dating to the 15th Century, including the beautiful stain glass St Michael rose window in the Priory Church. Items found on the island are also on display from the Bronze Age. The plaster work in some of the rooms is remarkable; some with intricate carvings and others depicting hunting scenes.

Through the windows looking out to sea, it’s easy to get lost in thought and wonder at the lives of those who have walked these hallways before.

Windows to the sea

Outside, the sub-tropical garden, with its variety of exotic plants growing out of cracks and crevices and clinging to the granite hillside, is serene and magnificent. Flowers delicate in their beauty, yet sturdy enough to withstand the wind and weather of this island, flourish.

Looking down at the gardens

St Michael’s Mount is truly remarkable, filled with serenity and hope. For centuries, standing guard and looking out to sea, it whispers of magic and myth, of knights and kings, and of time—moving in a wave from past to present and on into the future.

May 3, 2014 by Skye Blue Winters

Picture Perfect: St Ives

Nestled in the hillside of the rugged Cornish coast is the picturesque town of St Ives. Curving majestically out to sea, its landscape lined with cottages, its shoreline dotted with colorful boats of all sizes, it beckons you to walk her cobblestone streets and climb her wind-worn hills.

Boats in the harbor at low tide

Before leaving for this trip, my friend, Colleen, suggested I connect with her cousin, Doreen, while I was in Cornwall. So after contacting Doreen, Mark and I walk the short distance from our cottage to the bus depot in Penzance for the 30 minute ride to St Ives.

The bus ride through the rolling hills and valleys of the English countryside is ripe with opportunities for photos, but our ‘drive-bys’ just can’t capture the beauty of this mystical land.

The St Ives bus depot is perched high above the bay providing a perfect opportunity to see the curving Southeast tip of the town as it juts elegantly into the sea. On the other side of the hillside, you can see the vastness of the Celtic Sea in all its splendor.

A hazy day in St Ives

Doreen’s daughter, Janine arrives, walks over to us and asks, “Are you American?” I wasn’t expecting anyone quite so young, so after a bit of confusion, we begin our adventure and meet Doreen part way down the hill on our way into town.

Doreen has lived in St Ives for several decades, first in a cottage in town and now on its edge. As we walk arm-in-arm through winding back streets, past shops not yet open on this cold and windy Saturday morning, Doreen shares the town’s history and her story. It’s easy to see why she settled here and why she stays!

Winding street in St Ives

We arrive on the far side of town at a beach called Porthmeor. The sea moves from a pale green closer to shore, to a light shade of blue on this overcast day. As it touches the sky, the colors blur and except for the occasional darker blue hue, it’s difficult to discern the horizon where the Celtic Sea becomes the Atlantic Ocean.

An open-air cafe sits perched above the white sand beach surrounded by glass shielding its occupants from the wind coming off the surf. Colorful cabanas add to the ambiance.

Cabanas at the beach

The St Ives Surf School is holding court, decked out in bright yellow like a sunflower opening its petals toward the ocean waves. The students are paying close attention to the master as the waves lick the shoreline, begging them to grab their boards and enter the aquamarine world.

St Ives Surf School in session

We head toward the island at the tip of St Ives. “The island” is not really an island, as it’s firmly attached to the mainland, however, it is surrounded on three sides by the sea. Sitting on top is St Nicholas Chapel, dating to Medieval times.

Walking up the hill, precariously close to the rocky edge, we move around and up until we reach a fork in the path. The rocks are splattered with orange and golden lichens. Small pink, yellow and white wildflowers dot the landscape, appearing in the crops of grass and wherever they’ve managed to hang on. Sea birds fly and hang in mid-air, taking the up-drafts and diving into the sea.

Wildflowers at the rocky edge of “The Island”

Doreen and I continue around the island to the harbor side, while Mark and Janine continue up the hill to get a closer look at the one room granite chapel, stoically looking out to sea. Later, Doreen will tell us tales of how pirates used to land on the island, hiding their loot in caves to be transported inland, while the chapel was used as a lookout in an effort to prevent the smugglers from gaining access.

St Nicholas Chapel

We wait for Mark and Janine and then head back down to the town, passing by the small protected Bamaluz Beach, past shops and rental cottages to the harbor, where we stop for lunch at the Lifeboat Inn.

Harbor with life boats

Historically, St Ives was a fishing village. Today, it’s an artist community, the transition occurring around the time the fishing industry was declining and the new railway provided easier access. Artists came for the light and beauty of this village by the sea.

After a great lunch, we meander through the cobblestone streets and back alleys, wandering up and down the hills, gazing into shops and small gardens, tucked away in interesting places. We visit several art galleries, our favorite being the New Craftsman Gallery on Fore Street, where I admire a number of works by artist, Emma Jeffryes, and Mark purchases a couple of paintings.

A war memorial garden in St Ives

It’s clear we could spend more time here, but we have plans for the evening, and so we say our farewells to our lovely new friends and catch the bus back to Penzance.

With its history, charm and beauty, combined with its many galleries, including the Tate opened by H.R.H. Prince Charles in 1993, we can see why St Ives is such a great tourist destination and why Doreen has spent so many wonderful years in this picture perfect place!

May 2, 2014 by Skye Blue Winters

Paris to Penzance

Paris at the end of April is like a beautiful woman with no expectations nor knowledge of her beauty. Lush and full of hope, the trees reach out with their fresh new leaves spreading their joy to create shade. Flowers are everywhere, the scent of Jasmine filling the senses. Tulips seem to be never-ending with colors so vibrant they glisten.

The weather, on the other hand, is like a moody teenager, clouds rolling in at a moment’s notice saying to the sun, “Not yet!” and briefly wetting the landscape pushing people toward the ‘shade.’ But just as quickly, the sun cuts through and the landscape sparkles with freshness.

Tour Eiffel through the trees

Mark trains in from Stuttgart for a brief 36-hour sojourn in Paris … only enough time to walk the Seine and get a sense of what one might discover in this ancient and beautiful city. Isabelle comes up from Montpelier and with Thom and Eric, the five of us meet for a last dinner. Tomorrow we all part, each heading in different directions.

EuroStar to London and beyond

Thom and Eric leave the flat very early. We awake in time to see them off and wait for Alec to arrive and retrieve the keys before heading to the Metro and Gare du Nord for our EuroStar train to London.

I had previously checked parisbytrain.com to get a visual layout of Gare du Nord to save time once we arrive. Even though I have been here a number of times, I know the EuroStar is boarded in another part of the station and we are short on time.

I’m excited about going through the Chunnel, but as we leave the blue skies of France and enter the darkness, I ask myself what I expected? It’s rather like taking BART beneath the Bay, from San Francisco to Oakland, but with a travel time of a bit more than half an hour. As soon as we emerge into the rain and mist, I know we’re in England.

We have about an hour to transfer from London’s St. Pancras station via the Underground to Paddington for the next leg of our train trip. We have a few delays, but finally make it with, oh, quite possibly three minutes to spare!

We are traveling to Penzance on the First Great Western railway stopping frequently along the way. The trip takes about five hours and is memorable for the beautiful scenery, particularly as we get closer to the coast.

English coastline heading to Penzance

There’s nothing quite so beautiful as the English countryside, with its rolling hills and lush, light green fields crisscrossed with full, dark green hedgerows. Entering the small quaint villages with brick houses and church steeples pointing to the sky seems straight out of a Masterpiece Theatre BBC mystery. Narrow roads with carefully manicured bushes and trees keep the curious from seeing beyond.

English countryside

Our first night in Penzance

We arrive at our lovely three bedroom cottage at 33 Chapel Street that Mark reserved through Classic Cottages. It’s perfectly situated on the historic Chapel Street within easy walking distance of the town centre. With a view of the bay and its very own private garden, we couldn’t be more pleased.

View of the harbor from the 3rd floor bedroom

View of the harbor from the bedroom

Fresh tulips are on the dining room table, and in the kitchen, we find a tray complete with a bottle of wine, a fresh loaf of bread and scones. Tea and coffee are provided and in the refrigerator we find butter, milk and the incomparable Cornish Clotted Cream.

Tray provided by our hosts

The house is cozy and comfortable, but since it’s already nearly 8:00 p.m., we put our bags away and head out into the town to check out the neighborhood and have some dinner. We find a food cooperative at the top of the hill, many interesting shops closed due to the hour and several open and welcoming pubs.

When did the English learn to cook?

Now before you think I’m being a bit cocky here, my mother was English, so I’m pretty familiar with the cooking.

We enter the Turk’s Head, a lovely, warm and lively pub with a back room of tables making up the restaurant. Mark orders Fish and Chips with mushy peas and I the Asparagus Risotto.

The fish is freshly caught off the coast, deliciously battered and perfectly prepared. The mushy peas are creamy, smooth and a perfect companion. The Asparagus Risotto includes small slices of asparagus, English peas, a hint of mint and toasted pine nuts. The risotto is creamy and perfectly cooked with just the right amount of seasoning. Topped with two crunchy and tasteful asparagus and sprinkled with Parmesan, it just may be the best risotto I’ve ever tasted.

Turk’s Head dinner

We return to our home for this week and settle in for the night.

An auction for charity

On Saturday night, Mark and I attend a charity Art Auction at The Exchange to support the Cornwall Hospice Care. Over 100 pieces from local artists are being offered with a percentage of the proceeds donated to the charity. After champagne, hors d’oeuvres and music in the cafe, we take a seat with our personal auction numbers to see what we might take home.

The auctioneer is hilarious. Forgetting his microphone cord and gavel, he chooses to “speak up,” and uses an ice cream scoop, banging it loudly on the podium to end each sale. His quirky method of engaging the audience, getting bidders to raise the price and forgetting where he is in the bidding process makes for a very entertaining and fun evening. Mark bids on several items and goes home with a beautiful, original signed watercolor.

Impressions of Penzance

Penzance is a fishing village located along the southeast coast of Cornwall, tucked away in Mount’s Bay, which faces the English Channel. In early May, even though Cornwall is a temperate climate, the weather is cold and blustery. The rain has held off, but I feel like I’ve stepped into the land of Winnie the Pooh!

Despite the chill, Penzance is a lovely town. Possibly best known outside of the UK for the Gilbert and Sullivan comic opera, Pirates of Penzance. However, this seaside town has nothing to do with pirates, although we did see several references including the Penzance Sailing Club, which uses a skull and crossbones as its emblem.

During our week-long stay, we walk the streets, finding hidden nooks and gardens and interesting historical sites. The cemetery in St. Mary’s church is very old, the markers blotched with moss and lichen, many lined with vines. Wild flowers are growing everywhere as are Palm trees. (Mark knows the scientific names of the palms, including the true palms home to this area and those imported from other parts of the world.)

Harbor through Chapel St. archway

St. Mary’s Church

St. Mary’s, located across the street from our cottage, sits high above the town and can be seen from practically everywhere, making it very easy to find our way home.

Top of St Mary’s Church

The Jubilee Pool, an Art Deco seawater lido built when Penzance was a prosperous seaside resort is closed. Located between the promenade and the harbor, it experienced extensive damage from the horrendous storms that battered many parts of the UK and Europe this winter.

Jubilee Pool

Nearby to our cottage we discover the Morrab Gardens, home to sub-tropical plants that you won’t find elsewhere in England.

Morrab Gardens

Morrab Gardens: Pond

There are wonderful galleries, boutiques and museums that will keep us busy. With an easy walk to the bus station, Penzance makes a perfect home base for jaunts to other parts of Cornwall.

Collecting butterflies

Notes from exotic places

Category Archives: England

Eden Project: Back to the Garden

A gem of Cornwall … Mousehole: Where cats rule

Crossing the causeway: St Michael’s Mount

Picture Perfect: St Ives

Paris to Penzance

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