The wild joys of Lundy

I hear that (another) film is going to be made about the Famous Five, Enid Blyton's most popular adventure-story characters. Personally, I liked the Five Find-Outers, too, (Larry, Daisy, Pip, Bets, and Buster) but that's a discussion for another day, in an Enid Blyton book group, if such forums exist in physical or cyber space.

Today's outing was to a very Famous Five location: Lundy Bay, a small bay where smuggled or wrecked cargoes were believed to have been unloaded. There are caves in the rocks, for sure, and secret places only to be accessed at low tide.

To get to Lundy bay, we had to to walk down a half-mile track through a verdant valley alive with ferns, bracken, flowers and trees hung with wild honeysuckle. Butterflies flutter by, and crickets chirp in the long grasses. From the top of the cliff, the caves can be explored, photos taken (but not very good ones) people watched, and words written. Down on the beach, once the shelves of rock are negotiated, there's soft sand, rockpools, playful dogs and children. The water is bracing, and I saw a navy blue jellyfish float by me. I wished yet again I'd had a rashguard vest, but swam for a short while. The most refreshing thing for me was the total absence of windbreaks and other 'beach dividers'. I also loved the soft sound of the waves, the relative amount of space per person, and watching the dogs playing in the water, or skidding over rocks. It was more like the Scottish and Welsh beaches I love, which are not at all crowded because they are harder to get to. I hope to return to Lundy sometime. I liked this little girl cartwheeling along the beach, a reminder of the joy of being nine and alive.

From Lundy we drove round the point to Port Quin, a small fishing village, and Port Isaac, the town made famous as the (BBC TV) Doc Martin setting. CleanSteve didn't want to stop there, fearing getting caught in crowds and coaches, so we returned to Polzeath, at which point the sun reappeared.

Later, at the hilltop hotel bar, which was not lovely, but which I'd wanted to visit to sample the Cornish Rattler draught cider, we passed an older guy descending the steps.I thought from his appearance that he was a surfer dude, a not-uncommon figure in these parts. However, Steve remarked,

"there's that priest from off the telly"

and I knew immediately that he meant the travelling-TV-presentingPeter Owen-Jones, for he was down here last night, giving a talk at the Surfing-Church Christian Cafe. There is a two-week mission camp/festival being held at the moment, including on the main beach, and I believe his talk was part of it.

Of course, if the rev Peter had been in a Famous Five story, or even a Daphne Du Maurier novel, he would have only been pretending to be a pilgrim priest , while secretly stockpiling radioactive chemicals or cases of fine French brandy in cliffside caves, under cover of darkness and his dog collar!