WISHFUL THINKING ?...
I haven`t travelled abroad very much. A school trip to the south of France 65 years ago; a week in Portugal when one of my sons was working in Lisbon; 18 months in what was BFPO 16 in West Germany during my National Service defending western civilisation from the threat of communist invasion. That`s about it really - I don`t suppose a couple of weeks in Wales counts, so I haven`t seen that much of the `wider world,` not that it bothers me unduly as I`ve discovered there is so much to see in and enjoy around this sceptred isle.
Now as the corona virus lock-down took hold it was impossible to get to a bookshop, so I began to re-read some from my own eclectic bookshelves. Some of the books I have collected over the years are really quite old - I like reading about how things were all those years ago and since most of my `travel books` are about this country I have been reading again some about Cornwall back in the 1940s and the history of the Isles of Scilly.
And the books about those islands reminded me of a memorable day we had about 30 years ago when we were staying in a remote area of far west Cornwall and took the helicopter from Penzance to Tresco, the second biggest of the Isles of Scilly. And what a day to remember it turned out to be. The helicopter journey afforded spectacular views of the far reaches of the Penwith peninsula - Mousehole, Land`s End and out beyond the coast across the 26 miles of sea before landing on Tresco.
And us being us, we left the other visitors behind and wended our own way to explore quite a lot of the island, past New Grimsby and followed the footpath along the island coast until we came to Cromwell`s Castle, pictured above, which looks out across the narrow channel between Tresco and Bryher. Throughout our wanderings around the island I was in awe of the quiet tranquility of the place, the white sand beaches, the tiny flower fields hedged with escallonia, the unhurried way of life and the sights and sounds of what must surely be one of the most beautiful of places to be found in the whole of the United Kingdom.
Eventually we made our way back to `downtown` Tresco and enjoyed a visit to the famous Abbey gardens before reluctantly having to get back on the helicopter and return to the mainland.
But reading my old books about the Isles of Scilly again and, thanks to Talking Pictures TV, once again watching `When the Whales Came,` has produced a bit of a longing to go back there and recapture that feeling of being in a foreign country, even if I`m not. The same goes for Cornwall too - a country apart with its own language, history and traditions.
Maybe one day....... wishful thinking?
Now as the corona virus lock-down took hold it was impossible to get to a bookshop, so I began to re-read some from my own eclectic bookshelves. Some of the books I have collected over the years are really quite old - I like reading about how things were all those years ago and since most of my `travel books` are about this country I have been reading again some about Cornwall back in the 1940s and the history of the Isles of Scilly.
And the books about those islands reminded me of a memorable day we had about 30 years ago when we were staying in a remote area of far west Cornwall and took the helicopter from Penzance to Tresco, the second biggest of the Isles of Scilly. And what a day to remember it turned out to be. The helicopter journey afforded spectacular views of the far reaches of the Penwith peninsula - Mousehole, Land`s End and out beyond the coast across the 26 miles of sea before landing on Tresco.
And us being us, we left the other visitors behind and wended our own way to explore quite a lot of the island, past New Grimsby and followed the footpath along the island coast until we came to Cromwell`s Castle, pictured above, which looks out across the narrow channel between Tresco and Bryher. Throughout our wanderings around the island I was in awe of the quiet tranquility of the place, the white sand beaches, the tiny flower fields hedged with escallonia, the unhurried way of life and the sights and sounds of what must surely be one of the most beautiful of places to be found in the whole of the United Kingdom.
Eventually we made our way back to `downtown` Tresco and enjoyed a visit to the famous Abbey gardens before reluctantly having to get back on the helicopter and return to the mainland.
But reading my old books about the Isles of Scilly again and, thanks to Talking Pictures TV, once again watching `When the Whales Came,` has produced a bit of a longing to go back there and recapture that feeling of being in a foreign country, even if I`m not. The same goes for Cornwall too - a country apart with its own language, history and traditions.
Maybe one day....... wishful thinking?
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