Tintagel

Friday October 21st
In Which we Search for Camelot

I think you can learn a lot about a population from the state of their shops. In our travels around the counties of Dorset, Devon and now Cornwall we had seen a huge number of shops that look like they have not changed their window displays since the 1950s. It is common to see a shop window filled with a mixture of assorted goods, all in faded boxes, covered in dust and with a few dead flies scattered around for effect.

While we were in Tintagel we were thrilled to find that the town had a laundromat as these are often very difficult to find in some countries. We bundled up our dirty washing, grabbed a pocketful of coins and went to the shop to catch up with our laundry. On entering the place, the first impression was one of perpetual neglect. The fronts of the two washing machines were covered in a greasy residue of numerous past washes and looked like it was a long, long time since they had been wiped clean.

The same was true of the soap drawer - layers of gunk that had Maggie shaking her head in disgust. I have visited laundromats in many different countries but never seen one so neglected as this dump.

To compound matters even further there were absolutely no instructions whatsoever as to how to operate the machines. We had no choice other than to keep feeding in coins until something happened. About 4 pounds later the water started to fill, so we assumed it had started. Since the display was broken it was impossible to tell how long the process was going to take.

I sat down and looked around the place. Hanging on a peg was a bulging bag labelled "lost socks". It appeared that the locals were inept at counting their socks to check to see if they still had an even number at the end of each wash.
Nearby was an even larger bag of crumpled clothing - presumably many people had trouble even remembering that they had put their clothes in the washing machine at all. On top of the dryer was a pair of old underpants, waiting to be claimed. This was getting ridiculous. It looked like the whole town was full of people who simply pooled all their clothes into some huge communal pile. Only in England I guess.

This leads me to make some generalisations about the English population we had observed and met in our travels.

Firstly, they generally are an overweight and very unfit lot. I have never seen such a concentration of people with mobility scooters, walking sticks and zimmer frames. We began to feel as if the whole population had trouble standing upright or moving from place to place. It also looks like they seldom visit the dentist, wear second hand clothing and probably have odd socks. From our experience at the laundromat, it may also be true that half of them are wearing someone else's underpants. They also seem to shuffle along the street, looking as if they are not quite sure where they are going. After what we had seen of the disciplined and conscientious work ethic of the Germans, we wondered just how the British ever managed to win the war.

In spite of that, they are no doubt generally a friendly bunch, although they share a universal dislike and distrust of the French. Maybe that is because the French just have so much more savoir faire than they do. The typical English person does not seem to have much interest in maintenance or modernisation. The principle seems to be "if it ain't broke, don't fix it", in fact, on second thought, I would say that it is more like "if it IS broke, don't fix it either".

After our experience at the laundromat we set out to explore the so called Tintagel Castle.

This is a stark collection of ruins and relics that is precariously scattered over the sheer cliffs near the township. The interest in these ruins has been increased to near fever pitch because of the claims that they may be the ruins of King Arthur's Castle. Then again they may not. In any case, they certainly are spectacular and are great fun to explore.

In order to wander the ruins you first need to hand over 7 pounds for the privilege (and NO there is no concession rate) and then navigate the vertiginous steps above the raging sea. It is not for the faint hearted and Maggie certainly had to confront her inner demons to make the crossing. I was so proud that she did manage to complete the walk and she was very pleased with herself and I am sure that it is not something she could have done even a couple of years ago.
In this part of the world there is a lot of Welsh spoken and it was intriguing to see many signs in both English and Welsh. I love the Welsh accent but I had to admit that their language sounded like someone gargling in gravel and sea water.
In the evening we went to dinner at a little Italian restaurant called the Olive Grove. It was a superb meal and the service was also great. It helped make up for the disappointment we had experienced the previous night at the King Arthur's Arms Pub.Weiterlesen