Diary of a home ed mummy: Cornwall, Cornwall, Cornwall (we love it)

A bit more from our crazy, birthday camping trip.

Picture the scene.....

An early start, 6.30 a.m, the sky is blue and everyone is cheery.
On the road counting through counties, stopping in Gloucestershire on the way. The rain has started. The car is now rammed (camping Grandma has tried to pack light - no straighteners) and we have a trailer too.

The rain is battering the car as we pass Bristol and we are now being buffeted by the wind too. Checking the trailer can be spotted bumping along behind every five minutes. The games have now begun to pass the time. Thinking of an animal is a favourite, but always check at the start that the animal is not a mythical creature or extinct and to remind them not to change their minds half way through. Lengthy debates start when the correct categorisation is questioned, because how can a mammal have four legs and two arms?

We reach exeter before I notice, my concentration being on crochet and not being drawn into any more of the above! One of my favourite bits of our journey as the M5 splits and ends and we carry on round onto the A30 in a fabulous long swoop and we start on a series of wonderful ups and downs making our way into Cornwall. We look out for the trees. In times gone this would mean we were 5 mins from home or to put the kettle on as Daddy/Grandmas/granddads/any happy visitor were nearly here and we had just recieved a text saying "Trees" and knowing exactly where they were and what they had just seen. We then hit our first sign that reads "Cornwall" but we don't count it until we have crossed the bridge and the Tamar and a cheer goes up.

We know we are nearly there but the next 45mins feel like much longer. As we cut across country, around the lanes and shortcuts we know, the trees are bent double. We keep glancing at each other with half crazed smiles thinking about the massive tent we have to try and pitch atop a cliff, with four (excited) kids and what is likely to be a very wet, reluctant to camp, Grandma. The rain comes and goes a bit, maybe it looks a bit brighter towards the sea? Ironically it had stopped as we drove past Okehampton, one of the wettest towns in the world. Surely that can't be a good sign! But the weather here is always changeable.

At last we spot the sea, between hedges and dips. Round the corner and down the hill we park on the beach. A spot of lunch (pasty of course) and we decide to risk it. It's gusting and the rain comes and goes. Proper big drops and then soaking mizzle. We have no pictures. It was all hands on tent. At one point it really did feel like it might blow away. But the wind and rain paused just enough to get it up and pegged so beds could be made and the car could be emptied. We were here and sorted for just two nights. Was it all worth it? I think the pictures of our first day say it all!