Trago Mills is an insane place that should be a “must visit” on any tourist to Cornwall’s list. It’s as if you drive through a worm hole and into parallel universe. It would never surprise me to see Dr Who wandering about or a tardis parked in the car park although it hasn’t happened yet. It’s unclear whether the owner is actually completely and utterly bonkers or if he does some of the things he does with his tongue firmly planted in his cheek. I suspect the former but can’t rule out the latter.

We’ve popped in there today because I was told in no uncertain terms last time I tried to hand in a piece of coursework that the Education faculty staff don’t take kindly to assignments being handed in as piles of paper stapled together. Oh no. You have to put your coursework in a binder. Yet more waste and pointless expense in my view but there you go. All it does is to devalue the work inside if you’ve got to wrap it up in a pretty package. It flies in the face of it being a supposedly masters level journal paper – if it’s not in a bit of petrochemical pink plastic wallet then it’s not suitable to hand in. Pah. Oh how I long for the days of the science faculty where they took content more seriously than presentation!

This cockerel was shouting his head off in the sunshine while rummaging about in the undergrowth. His friend, a maran cockerel was strutting about behind him and another cockerel with a huge pair of feathery, frilly knickers was marching along the car park to join them. It’s difficult to be sure of the numbers but there must be at least a dozen cockerels here, probably many more than that. We don’t know where they came from although we do know of at least one (we think Hagrid) who ended up here from a place which we won’t mention just in case of recriminations!