Plymouth Harbor and St. Michael's Mount

Our tour included a cruise in Plymouth Harbor.  On the way to the Harbor, we passed the Royal Citadel, perched on high rocks above the harbor, built in the late 1660s; it encompasses the site of the earlier fort that had been built here in the time of Sir Francis Drake, he of the cool head and determination to complete his game of bowls (see previous post).

Nearby were the famous Mayflower Steps, where passengers had supposedly departed Plymouth in 1620, nearly 400 years ago, on their 66-day voyage to Cape Cod.  Other famous ocean voyages had begun here, including Charles Darwin on the HMS Beagle in 1841.

As we cruised down the harbor, we saw many military ships, and also the conning towers of several decommissioned submarines; we were told that the submarines had to remain where they were for 30 years until their nuclear reactors had cooled.

 
Karl was awaiting us in the coach at the end of the ferry cruise, and we set forth into beautiful Cornwall again.  Steve explained that Cornwall was unique because it contained many unusual minerals as a result of the weathering of the felsic intrusions (our Steve was a knowledgeable geologist as well as a historian) - felsic rocks are igneous rocks rich in elements like uranium, zinc, copper, antimony, and arsenic.  Kaolin was also deposited in massive amounts here, and we passed the world's largest clay pits; the clay is still mined and is used for fine porcelains by Lenox and Wexford.

Of special interest were the presence of copper and tin, which together can be alloyed into bronze; because of this, the area became, as early as 1500 BC, a place where the Bronze Age began in England - that crucial link between the Stone (or neolithic) Age and the Iron Age.  The presence of tin may have been what, legend has it, brought the merchant Joseph of Arimathea, uncle of Jesus, to England.  It is an interesting legend and purports to account for those missing years in Jesus's life in the Gospels by saying that Jesus as a young boy traveled to England.  That legend, completely unsubstantiated, has been alive for 2000 years.  Further legend believes that Joseph of Arimathea returned after the death of Jesus and started the first “cristen” church of England in the village of Glastonbury around  60 AD.  The myth purports that Joseph decided upon Glastonbury because when he put his staff into the ground on Wearyall Hill, it took root and flowered.  The legend is the basis for William Blake's poem Jerusalem, the unofficial "anthem" of England."

And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountain green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?
And did the countenance divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among those dark satanic mills?

This part of England is so beautiful that it is easy to believe that it has been touched by divine feet.

Here, too - in contrast to those "dark satanic mills" - we saw signs of a more progressive and enlightened England (which we also saw in other parts of the UK and in Ireland), miles and miles of wind turbines and solar panels:  clean energy (alongside Belted Galloways).

We continued along the coast to the seaside town of St. Ives, an artist's colony because, according to Steve, artists began coming here from London and discovered that the light was very special.  The Town is a popular resort, notably achieving the title of Best UK Seaside Town from the British Travel Awards; it is filled with galleries and shops and restaurants, and we spent some time wandering through its narrow, winding streets down to the ocean.

St. Ives is also known for its “pasties” – meat-filled pies that we first encountered in Michigan in 2016, coincidentally enough; the pies arrived in Michigan's Upper Peninsula in the 1840s, brought there by Cornish miners who immigrated to that part of the country.  Three years later, we were in the "Mother Country" of pasties.

We had had a filling lunch at a cafe in St. Ives, and had spoken to a friendly server.  We told her that we were going to be visiting Stonehenge, and she told us that when she was a little girl, her family would visit the site; it was deserted most of the time, and they would sit on the rocks and eat a sandwich.  

We did not opt for pasties today (although we had eaten them in Michigan).  But when we arrived at the beach itself and the usual seaside eateries there, Martha decided that the occasion called for an ice cream cone.

It was a warm and sunny day, and visitors were sitting on benches soaking up the last warm sunny days of September, eating fish and chips and pasties; some were wandering down to the water, taking off their shoes, and dipping their toes in the cool water.

We continued on from St. Ives to St. Michael's Mount.  Monks from Mont St. Michel in France established a priory here in the 12th Century on an unbridged tidal island like the one in France.  I collected another rock there - my third on this trip - a small round pebble; I am holding it in my hand as I write this blog and remember that warm, sunny day on the English coast.

We returned eventually to Plymouth again and enjoyed our "Farewell Dinner" at a restaurant called The Mission.  Their website describes it well:  "This 19th century Thomas Mission Hall, with its high ceilings and aromatic smells from the kitchen, is the perfect place to settle for a flavoursome, satisfying, and well accomplished British cuisine.  Our selection of menus cater handsomely to diners on the go, romantic meals for two, friends, and family gatherings."  I suppose we fell into the "friends" category, because at this point in our journey we had become friends with so many of our fellow travelers.  It was a good evening!