Wherever we were, from rooftop terraces to tiny pocket-handkerchief gardens clutching to the shoreline, there were plants galore. Cordyline and aloe, palms and roses, profusions of fuchsia, honeysuckle and pots of lavender.
Even the rooftops don’t escape some kind of vegetation….whether intentional or not!
For me, there’s nothing more tantalising than a garden I can’t quite get to….and Cornwall has its fair share. There was one tucked in just below our window. At first I thought it just a loose mass of nasturtiums entwined with wisteria alongside the road….but on closer inspection discovered a gate, and steps (that I couldn’t access of course!) and that it was of a greater depth than I noticed at first glance….a path below the fluttering wisteria and dense planting on the far side, shaded by an enormous fig tree. The whole of it, although only the size of a postage stamp, was so utterly secluded and secret, it seemed enchanting. And on the far side, a sheer drop to sparkling waters. These are the kind of gardens that appeal to the romantic at heart.
Of course there’s more to Cornwall than gardens….full of history and boat harbours, fantastic seawalls, great mountains of colourful floats, hefty ropes and lobster pots; and whitewashed, pastel hued and flint walled houses. With its exquisite land and seascape, clear light and invigorating air, there’s little wonder at the reason artists have long been drawn there.
But to end this escapade, a sail on the water, skimming across the sea on a handsome vessel….salty and windblown, was how we ended this particular adventure in Cornwall.