Tuesday 16 December 2008

Down The Mousehole

Wednesday 7 August 1996. After the stones we stopped in Mousehole, which the locals pronounce "Mowzil".

A bit like Polperro this is a small fishing village. It's one of those places where you can sit and relax and just drink in the unhurried atmosphere. The harbour is extremely pretty but nowhere near as busy as Polperro. There's a small beach that faces the harbour with sand at one end with pebbles making up the rest.

Chains snake down from their anchoring point on the wall behind the beach to individual boats that either bob on the water or, at low tide, tilt attractively on the harbour bed.

Unlike Polperro or Mevagissy, the streets here are fairly quiet. Not that this picturesque quiet place has always led a sheltered life.

A placque on a wall reminds us that the Spanish landed here and ransacked the place, killing inhabitants left and right. This was, admittedly, a few hundred years earlier than 1996 so we felt safe enough... You can't help but think that the Spanish were somewhat lacking in boldness, choosing to invade at such a quiet spot where they were unlikely to (a) face much opposition, or (b) find much in the way of plunder...

We had a look round the tiny village then made our way back to the harbour.

I sat on a bench next to a sleeping black cat and did a sketch of the some of the buildings facing the harbour. On the next bench a man was painting designs on round stones in water colours, presumably to sell as paper weights. I got sunburnt a bit on the back of my neck!

A very agreeable place!

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