There are no estate agents open on Sundays here so we have a day off! What do we do? Well very little actually. We get up late and spend the rest of the morning on the beach in the sunshine. As I open the curtains, the next-door neighbour’s hanging bird feeder has two magpies jostling for position on it. I’ve never seen a magpie on a mesh nut feeder before, they seem to have trouble hanging on let alone trying to get their big, thick beaks through the mesh to peck at the nuts. I take it as a good omen – two for joy and their tenacity in hanging on for what they want.
The weather has changed so comprehensively it’s hard to imagine the threatening sky and snow that we faced when we arrived. It’s sunny and bracing but I still spend a half-hour, my camera and fleece balanced on a rock, in nothing more than a tee-shirt and jeans hitting Rosie’s tennis ball with a racquet along the beach as far as I can while David snaps away trying to get a good action shot.
Over lunch at the table in the window of our cottage (that view is to die for) we review our progress, carefully checking the positions of the houses we have seen and discussing our plans for progressing these crazy ideas of ours. I’m not very positive. One thing seems promising, a house in the tiny fishing village of Polperro, some might say just about the most desirable village in Cornwall. We saw it in an estate agent in Looe yesterday and with luck and a following wind we can just about afford it. The photos look good, if a little ‘colourful’…..in fact, the house looks as though it has been painted inside to bask in the glory of ‘Refreshers’ or ‘Swizzles Love Hearts’. It’s painted in bright, acidic colours everywhere. Ah well, I’m good at painting and I quite enjoy it too. Let’s see what it holds.
Polperro is a tiny village that nestles in the bottom of a steep valley about three or four miles from Looe. It has many good things – no less than four entries in ‘The Good Pub Guide’, character and charm. The stone cottages around the harbour are typical Cornish seaside cottages but we know their prices are extortionate and it is completely impossible to drive or park in the village. In fact, the access is limited to drop off and pick up only. Cars have to be left in a massive car park up the hill and you walk into the village. It’s a brilliant way to stop congestion and does make the place really appealing but from a practical point of view, when you come home from the shops with a couple of bags of heavy shopping it’s a bit of a pain.
We go back on the beach for the second time today for a walk as the sun goes down. The place takes on a new charm at sunset. We walk for miles. The tide is out and at low tide Crantock beach goes on for ever, well it feels like it anyway. We walk, fly David’s new kite, play with the dogs and watch two guys surfing with enormous kites pulling them along in the surf. It looks like a lot more fun than surfing which always strikes me as a lot of hanging around for a very small amount of pleasure if you get my drift!
Back at the cottage we have a quiet evening in but I’m a bit concerned by the sideways looks I keep getting from David. What have I done? Have I got something on my face? Have I said or done something to upset him? What?
Three days later it transpires he was ‘anxious’ in case I asked him to marry me, it being Leap Year Day. Nope. That’s his job. If he loves me enough and wants the world to know it then one day he will ask me.
