Day 2 - June 21. Summer Solstice, longest day.

A delicious breakfast at the hotel - poached egg and haddock. Kept us going on the longest day of the year, the Summer Solstice. Walked up the very steep hill to our old school, St.Christopher's, no longer in existence, the two ladies who ran it are long gone. I didn't remember the building, after all it is sixty years since I was there from the age of eight until nine or so. Daphne was there until she was eleven, so was able to point out various landmarks and tell stories.

St. Christopher's School where Daphne and I met at age 8

After that we drove around the north coast of Cornwall, stopping in Zennor, a tiny village with a very old church where her family is buried.  Daphne's father, Robin Nance, made these children's chairs specially to go with the table in the church where the children stayed during the service.

On to the places Mum and I lived for various periods of time. Couldn't have been long anywhere, as I remember going back to South Africa when I was around 9 or 10. St. Just is a small town more inland, and I remembered it as being freezing cold and very windy. Now it is a popular stopping place for walkers and other hardy people walking the coastal path and enjoying the rigors of the Cornish Peninsula. Fantastic views of the fields and coastline. Further along was Sennen Cove where we used to swim, and then onto Porthcurno, a small but very important place during WWII. Many ships gathered there before going over to France on DDay. It was also the place where telegraphs were sent all over the world when the British Empire was at its height, and many young people (mostly young men) got their training and worked there. A great boost to the social scene in Penzance, not far away. There is a fascinating museum in Porthcurno showing how the operations of the telegraphs worked, and also photos and details of the laying of the cables. It took 5 tries to get the cable across to the US, finally in 1886 it was accomplished.  

Also in Porthcurno is the famed Minack Theatre, carved out of the rock on the cliffs.



The Minack Theatre, Porthcurno

My connection to it was when Mum was involved with an opera being performed there. Titled "The Logan Rock" it was composed by English composer Inglis Gundry, and also participating were two of her Old Vic Theatre colleagues, Edith Coates who was the principal singer, and her husband Harry Lloyd who coached the chorus. The rehearsals were in Penzance with an orchestra including members of the Royal Philharmonic. The performances were in the Minack Theatre. It must have been such a special time for Mum. She had been away from the London opera scene for over 20 years and here she was amongst some her oldest friends from her Old Vic days in the 1920s. Although I didn't realize the enormity of the event for her, it became one for me, as it was my first exposure to an orchestra and opera and I was bowled over, especially by the sweetness of the oboe sound.

 

The Logan Rock from the Minack Theatre at Porthcurno

We went on to Mousehole (pronounced Maozel) where we lived in a lovely house called the Garden house, so called because it has a huge wall all around the property, thus sheltering the large garden from the stormy coast. By pure coincidence Daphne knew the people who owned the house, so we deducted that Mum must have been either house-sitting or short-term renting while the owners were overseas. I loved that house and gardens and am sorry not to have any photos of it except for one I managed to get through a chink in the gate at the bottom of the garden. The place was locked up tight and the garden very overgrown. You can just see the white house at the top. Huge windows overlooking the garden.

The Garden House, Mousehole

We just made it in time for delicious cauliflower cheese soup and a shandy at the Ship Inn overlooking Mousehole harbor. It was from here one night, I went with a friend around my age who was staying with us for a holiday, on a fishing boat all night. The fisherman was a neighbor of ours at the Garden House, and had invited us. To this day, the smell of diesel fumes makes me nauseous, but it was an adventure, especially in the early morning when we went in to Penryn, around the coast from Mousehole to unload the catch which was sent immediately out to suppliers. Truly fresh fish!

Our last place of the day was my school in Penzance, St. Clare's. It was a private school and  I would take the bus from Mousehole to Penzance. After Mum bought an old Austin car for 25 pounds, sometimes she would drive me. That was such a luxury, having a car! From St. Clare's I got my passion for glass receptacles. We had home economics and when cooking in the kitchen, I loved working with the Pyrex dishes and bowls, all shining clean. Still the same to this day. I enjoyed the school very much, learning to dance the Hornpipe and discovering that I was vertically challenged and pretty useless at netball, the equivalent to American basketball. However,  I was a whiz at rounders, (softball). I can't remember if it was at St. Clare's that I was taken off the hockey team for being too aggressive. It happened in one of my 16 schools! I was mad about horses then, and had horsey friends. My best friend in Mousehole came from a farming family, and I would ride at the top of the hill. One family lived in a large manor-type house near Penzance, and I would ride there sometimes. Every so often we would go to a Pony Club gymkhana in a field overlooking the bay and  St. Michael's Mount. A very happy time. Memories in Penzance when I went to the  doctor for treatment for conjunctivitis, and hearing that Roger Bannister has just broken the 4 minute mile, May 6, 1954. Everyone was cheering! 

It had been quite day, emotionally and physically, a good night's sleep was easily managed.