Flybe / July 2019

47 / 116

JULY 2019 / Flight Time / 47
Inspiration
Previous spread: Veryan Campsite, Truro; Watergate Bay Opposite, clockwise from top left: Our first
campsite, with the van set up for the night; Salcombe, Devon; Blackpool Sands, Dartmouth
This page, left to right: The beach at Bude; stunning St Ives; Tate St Ives
about the different vans, and adventures,
the couple had enjoyed during that time,
and I thought how unusual it would be to
stop in the street in Birmingham and talk to
someone like this. It made me realise there
was much more to van life than waving at
VW drivers.
DAY 3: PADSTOW – WADEBRIDGE –
BODMIN – PORT ISAAC – BUDE
Although our moods were sunny after
this serene stay, the weather was grey and
drizzly. We were staying near Bude in North
Cornwall that night, but decided to retreat
further down the Cornish coast to Padstow.
Here, we ate a pasty, obviously, then hired
bikes from Padstow Cycle Hire (www.
and cycled some 20-odd
miles along the Camel Trail, to Bodmin and
back, via Wadebridge. It was flat, easy cycling
next to the estuary and on through the
countryside. If you’d done enough forward
planning, it would be very easy to stop off at
Camel Valley Winery on your way. Sadly, we
hadn’t, although we did get a quick gawp at
the outside of Bodmin prison.
We called in at Port Isaac on the way
back up the coast. Richard hadn’t visited
much of Cornwall and I wanted him to see
an idyllic Cornish fishing village. Port Isaac
didn’t disappoint. Although we noticed
a sign in The Golden Lion, the beautiful
18th-century pub on the harbour (www.
, saying it would
be closed the following evening for Doc
Martin filming, we’d hit upon a quiet
afternoon, where only a few other people
were wandering around the little paths
between the old fishing cottages.
The Bude campsite was nine miles south
of town, at the side of the A39. It was a wet
evening and we were tired from the cycling,
so we had a lacklustre trudge around Bude,
hoods up, trying to make out the sea in the
darkness on Summerleaze Beach, and took
shelter in a chippy. We ended up wolfing
down the warming contents of our paper
parcels in a bus shelter, looking out at the
gloomy, rainy night. “This is romantic when
people do it in the movies,” I told Richard, just
before I got drenched by the 319 to Barnstaple.
DAY 4: ST IVES – WATERGATE BAY –
TREGURRIAN – TREVARRIAN
With plans to explore the nearby coastal
walks of Tintagel and Boscastle scuppered by
grey skies, we made the most of being mobile
and spent a day in everyone’s favourite
place, St Ives. Here, though, the seagulls can
spot a pasty a mile off. They’re my personal
worst nightmare, threatening to take away
everything I love. Despite repeated warnings,
Richard didn’t heed my nervous predictions,
brazenly eating his pasty right out in the
open – perilous, I thought. Luckily for us, the
winged gang of thieves targeted some girls
walking along with ice creams. I was glad to
hurriedly shake off any errant pasty crumbs
and get going on a coastal walk around the
headland, admiring the sight of the beautiful
beaches of St Ives from the clifftop, then
getting a taste of the town’s artistic history
in Tate St Ives.