Along with many others this year, our main summer break was cancelled due to C-19. For reference, this was to be at Villa Elena on the north coast of Majorca – maybe next year? Determined to have time away, we booked a week for a holiday to Padstow at the end of September. A nice house located 300mm from the town centre (ed. – up a bloody steep hill), and arrangements made for travel and to pre-book as many restaurants as we could.
Setting off from Stanwick at 07:30, a more reasonable time than our usual 02:30, in 2 cars, one for the menfolk and another for the ladies. This is a far more sensible idea as I had no wish to listen to rambling gossip and chatter for five and a half hours. Ensuring that the ladies made a reasonable attempt to “prepare” for the long journey, our first stop would be in three hours time at a cafe found by Mr C just off the M5 south of Bristol.
As the men were paying attention to the sat-nav, we naturally came off at the correct junction leaving the women to fly past merrily chatting about clothes, shoes, hair, make-up or her at no. 27 (delete as applicable). 20 minutes later, they appeared. We were a little unhappy standing outside in the queue giving up our places several times. (more of this queuing to get into restaurants, cafes and pubs later).
As it turned out, Ollie’s Cafe was well worth the wait and very popular in the locality. This included a visit by twenty members of the local HA (Hells Angels). Full English breakfasts, coffee, tea, orange were eagerly devoured. Total bill for the six of us a very reasonable £61. As we had to sit on a table of four and a table of two, certain people started to misbehave. Some of the captions attached to the Whatsapp photos were very funny!
Anyway, onward and Westwards. Only another 150 miles to go for our holiday to Padstow. The time just flew by, and the view from the top of the road as we arrived looked promising.
We managed to park the cars but could not get into the house as we were 3 hours early. The first sortie down the hill to the harbour was the only decision to be made. We wrongly presumed, that as this was the last few days of September, the place would be winding down, and the crowds including those little people had gone home or back to school. Oh No. Padstow was heaving. Full of frustrated holidaymakers who had obviously taken the same decision as ourselves. Normally crowds would not bother us but with the severely reduced capacities of the entire hospitality industry, even getting a quick drink was a challenge.
This was 3 pm after the lunch rush had gone. Managing to find a rare table for 6 in the Golden Lion, the first drink(s) of the holiday was consumed. Don’t worry, one of us wasn’t drinking the hand sanitiser, they were drinking hot chocolate which was deemed to be too embarrassing to appear in the picture. Apart from one Doombar from the local brewery, the remainder of us selected Rattler, a jolly decent draught cider. (Ignore Stowford Press glasses).
After consuming local drinks, what’s for a late lunch? When in Cornwall there is only ONE thing to have, CORNISH PASTIE!
Okay, back to the house, meet the Tesco delivery man with our pre-order of breakfasts, snacks, salties, beer, wine, gin etc. (More details of the house in later posts).
Then back down to the harbour for dinner, or so we thought. There was not a single space to be had at any restaurant or pub. We settled for sitting outside The Shipwrights at the end of the harbour having a couple of pints and a plate of chips. Yes, it was cold, no, it wasn’t raining. We know how to live on a Saturday night. Plans were hatched for the remainder of the week to ensure that we ate properly from then on.