Beginning the week in Cornwall.

I am slightly tempted to ask myself “why Cornwall?” as a place to take a break*, other than relative convenience (4 hour 220 mile drive) lower cost than travelling abroad (by a small margin) and the easy availability of accommodation. So it took a bit less time to arrive, and without the hassle of flights, airports, passports etc. Yet at the same time it's just 1 step away from packing for a weeks camping – with travelling abroad you KNOW the stuff you can take is limited and work accordingly, but here, knowing we were self-catering made me pack more stuff that we would otherwise acquire at t'other end. Last night was our first home-cooked meal here: locally bought steaks with olives and peppers that I'd brought.

The journey down was entirely reasonable, and we found the town and house without struggle or even major effort – almost too easy! The house itself is at the top of a very steep hill, and climbing that several times a day IS a major effort. The house itself is a cottage, small even by our standards, on 3 levels, with a steep and narrow staircase with a low ceiling part-way up. As of the first morning Chris has already slipped down one section, skinning an elbow and bruising a buttock, while I bashed my head on the low ceiling. Hopefully the pain will quickly teach us to move and duck carefully, and that will be the last of it.

When we first entered the building there was a smell characteristic of wooden seaside houses that I remember from family holidays in Hastings, where we stayed in a house at the very top of Allsaints street in the old town. That house was seriously old and largely timber constructed, with floors and staircases that tilted drunkenly at peculiar angles and walls that were rough-plastered and sloped away. It smelt of creosote, but more than that, there was a slightly smoky scent underneath that this place shares. It was also not very modernised (though that was the early-mid 70s so modern was all relative) and there was a very distinct lack of heating except for a couple of vast open fireplaces. This house by contrast has central heating, with a background temperature of around 19 degrees (from the livingroom thermostat) and feels very cosy and comfy.

The house itself seems nicely furnished, and is likely someone's home at certain times of the year. There are lots of 'local' nicnacs around the place – bits of driftwood, basket lampstands, wooden seabird models, seaside paintings, knotted ropes etc - and a few photos of the same people here and there. Too much stuff for a holiday home that you would just rent to people, and would likely take far too much effort to keep clean and dust-free. Things are also not as we would naturally arrange them, especially the lighting and stuff in the kitchen, but we're all different. We tried to share the bath, and that gets a thumbs-down, especially as the plug leaks like a seive and the tub itself is incredibly shallow. But the bathroom itself is ncely done, and someone has sized the radiator well to keep it warm enough.

I already mentioned the house is at the top of a hill. The bedroom on the 3rd floor has a balcony and doors that open out, and the view of the town is rather good, even if it has been just misty and damp so far. If the weather brightens** then it will be a lovely place to sit and read, occasioanlly looking out across the town.

Looe (cue toilet jokes) itself is quite 'olde-worlde' in places, typical seaside holiday town in others. It turns out that there's a music festival being held right in the town this weekend, with venues all over and street artists performing too. We were tired after arriving, and didn't investigate much on the first day, but they seem to have covered a broad range of musical styles with the artists booked, though with quite a few acoustic-sounding acts. This has reminded me of how music is such a subjective thing, both in terms of the quality/content of the acts and also the mixing and production of those acts in a live context. Hearing some of the acts made me wish I could be playing in a band. Generally the music wasn't impressive, sadly: lots of whiney voices singing songs that each sounded similar, often lacking tunes and hooks, badly mixed with unbalanced sound. There was an old chap playing acoustic guitar and singing in a small marquee by the estury, and from the side his guitar sounded great and the voice OK. In front however (where people were gathering) it was just a terrible racket, painfully sharp-edged, and with way too much voice against weak guitar. The best sound I heard was from a group busking in the street, who had brought small amps and just did it all themselves – balanced, clear, and very live sounding.

I don't know if it's me getting old or whether something has changed in the way music is produced, but the sound at The Big Church Day Out was distinctly un-impressive too, and it's hard to explain why live music isn't more fun to listen to. I'm genuinely wondering if the use of more modern amplifier technology (lots of high output/light weight amps are running in class D now) affects the quality of sound reproduction in a way that is inferior to class AB or class B amps, even though they were all solid state. A bit like the change from LP to CD, where the highs were higher and lows lower using CDs, but it sounded lousy compared to the warmth and smoothness of a good LP on a decent (or even cheap) deck. Who knows?

So we're waiting to go out, Sunday morning.

About 9am the wind picked up & it started raining. Things have backed off in terms of airborne moisture, but it's still cool and damp outside. Breakfast was locally bought croissants and pain au chocolat, and they were some of the nicest I'd tasted outside France. Now 11am, and time to go out.

* 2 days in when this was written and I'm still asking myself a little. I reckon Poland is rainbow coloured compared to this place of grey and cloud.

 ** Only Friday was dry and sunny, and we spent the late afternoon up there.