Some places are depressing in the rain. Cornwall is simply enchanting: a timeless magic seems to descend.
The boats were soundly moored in preparation for the next storm to crash in off the Atlantic, expected tonight.
This is another of our favourite haunts: Portmellon. It seems to capture the essence of Cornwall: the sea comes up and laps over the road, washing up sand, seaweed and its secret treasures. The pub is called The Rising Sun, as the bay faces east. Whilst I am not really a pub person, somewhat conversely I love them as landmarks, and I love their history and heritage. I would bet that this one has seen a good amount of smuggling over the centuries.