This time last year, I was wondering if that family holiday might be our last. And it looked as if I had been right. Due to Pascoe, Perran and Carenza’s travel plans and summer jobs, we could not holiday together this year.
Not that their plans ever ceased to shift. In the end, we booked a house for a fortnight in St Ives.
Artists have chosen to reside in St Ives for the wonderful light created by the special sand. Holiday makers have come for the beaches, the many galleries, the sub-tropical gardens.
But we were won over by the fact that it had its own railway station. As our children’s dates of arrival and departure changed with the ebb and flow of the tide, we remained impassive.
We would not be driving miles to drop off/pick up. They could just catch the train.
In the end, we saw more of our children than I had predicted. Only Carenza missed out on the first week. Her absence gave us the welcome opportunity to entertain our friends Nick and Jackie. And when she arrived, all we had to do was to go and meet the train.