Along my way, folks recommended a visit to Bristol (or was it Brighton?). At the Great Western Railway office in London’s Paddington Station, Mike the friendly representative asks, “What are you going to do in Bristol?” “Chill. Do some writing and reading.” His words burst a reply, “Readin’ and writin’?!! In Bristol?! Bristol’s a big city, like London. Oh no, try Cornwall. Less people. Beaches and countryside. There’s your ticket.”
Universal guidance. I extend my hotel stay another day to research Cornwall. In a place called Penryn, a magical-looking holiday rental with a tropical plant-filled patio pops onscreen. Book it. Back at the station, “Hey, Mike I found a place in Cornwall, in a town called Penryn!” His eyebrows crinkle in puzzlement. “Penryn? Never heard of it.” I show him where it is on the map. Still never heard of it. But being close to Falmouth, he assures me it’s a good location. Oh for cryin’ out loud.
From Paddington Station, it’s five and a half hours to Penryn. Less than an hour outside of London, the scenery eases into rolling
terrain and farmland. The sun is shining through azure skies. Train rhythms are trance-like to me, so time flies…(or in this case, makes tracks). When the train reaches Penryn (two-bench) “Station”, I alone detrain. There looks to be a small car park, with no parked cars. My directions lead me to an empty two-lane road lined with scrub bushes, with more bushes behind those. First thought (said aloud): “Oh shite. I am on a road to Nowhere. I might as well be in backwoods Mississippi. What have I done?!” Second thought: “HEY, lady. Disperse with this negativity. There’s a reason you are right Here, right Now.” Out of the blue, a heavenly-scented breeze floats through the air. I look to find its origin but there are no flowering blooms in sight — a sweet sign. Nevertheless, internal chatter is still battling with the destination selection as I lug my suitcase up a never ending hill. At its crest, the battle is over. The ancient village reveals itself,
and its harbor beyond.
The artsy apartment is
just downhill from the town hall and clock tower. Inside is a welcome note with a handwritten map. At the local market, the clerk Simon asks, “You in town for the Sea Shanty Festival?” “What?!” I exclaim, my mouth agape in disbelief. Simon says…”Right. At the docks in Falmouth, just an easy mile or so walk from Penryn.”
There’s a festival in town! Hooray, and up she rises! Video: Sea Shanty
From the sleepy village of Penryn, the lovely walk to Falmouth runs alongside the river (2.5 miles, turns out).
Just beyond the grand arched gateway, the cobblestone streets are buzzing with (60,000) festival fans. Song is in the air, and everyone is smiling! I head to the tourist centre and get the ‘shanty skinny’. The Falmouth International Sea Shanty festival is hosting sixty shanty groups this year and musicians play all over town at twenty venues! And while a fundraiser for RNLI (Royal National Lifeboat Institution) it’s free! Meandering through the streets of the waterfront and docks, I reach the Events Stage in front of the National Maritime Museum Cornwall. There’s only about nine rows of seats and I spy a single one (advantage of solo travel). A big brawny guy wearing a red satin dress is working the crowd, holding a bucket for
donations. Gwen, my seatmate, informs me, “That’s Betty Stogs (local brewery’s famous ale), a festival institution. That man has been dressing like her for years and raises thousands of dollars for charity.”
Sea shanties were nautical work songs, usually having a call and response format. I didn’t think I was a sea shanty kind of gal…nor a sing-along audience participation person, nor a festival-goer without me’ dancing.
But this is different. Sitting amidst a community of hundreds of people all singing (on and off key), clapping hands (in and out of rhythm), nary a care, enjoying life, carrying on a maritime heritage…this is something else. I feel… I am, honored.
Then lyrics take hold of my heart —
“Twill be long, old man, ere our glasses clink, Twill be long ere we grip your hand! — And we dragged him ashore for a final drink, Till the whole wide world seemed grand.” I wipe a wee tear from my eye as I try to sing along to the chorus: “For they marry and go as the world rolls back, they marry and vanish and die; but their spirit shall live on the Outside Track, as long as the years go by.” Outside Track
So this is why I came to Penryn…
“There’s nowhere you can be that isn’t where you’re meant to be.” — John Lennon
Looks like a beautiful place to hang and relax. Love ya
‘Twas. Wanna come over?!
You need to take a few “selfles”so we know that you are the REAL Heidi. Theres been some sightings of a person that looks just like you, running around in a scary clown costume.
O’ Johnny Boy! Thank you and your Irish humor! Selfies are against my nature, but for you, next post shall ‘clone around’ with evidence of self…
Greetings from Santa Barbara, Beautiful Bird! This is your fellow NIA dervish, Lisa. Vicki told me about your blog and I am hooked! Your writing is so clear, Heidi — in style, insight, and intention. Your voice is so true, I feel like I am along for the ride (or perhaps, flight!). Miss you, darlin.”
Lisa, luv!!! Thank you for the touch, and for your o’ so kind comments–your encouragement is inspiration.
Dance on, shining star.
Life’s purpose isn’t currently about finding yourself; it’s about creating yourself…..
Peace and Love Heidi!
I swear to god, Jo…you’re clairvoyant.
Heidi, I love the photos! I love the writing! I love you!! Keep the posts coming, please.
And those lyrics?! WOW!!! You get bonus points for being able to a). understand those singing them and b). remembering them. They are beautiful and befitting. A tear to my eye, aye.
Susan! Hi, luv! I’m hoping to find a place to stay for a month, long enough to be able to write for days…tricky with summertime holiday travelers. Aye, better keep the bonus points. The chorus is repeated multiple times so easy to sing along, but the other lyrics, I had to look up. Be well.
I’m so proud of you for finally starting this blog. It is so fun to follow along with you on your journeys. I want to join you at some point! xoxoxo, mia
‘Twas you, Mia. Just after Tom’s Fare Thee Well. I still see you working at the little round table in Lucy’s apartment on the Upper East Side. And still in its nascent stages…thank you, Mia. Thank you. xox