A postcard from Cornwall

Last month we went on a family holiday to Cornwall. It was the first holiday with our baby, who is still too young to appreciate the beach just yet but portable enough to be carried round all the various coastal towns and grand houses. 

A British holdiay always brings me back to my childhood. The smell of sunscreen on skin, sand between your toes and sea ruffled hair. Admiring beach huts facing out to sea and remembering the early mornings sitting in one at camp during the late 90s. 

We took advantage of National Trust vouchers and visited several houses in and around Cornwall. The temperate climate leant itself to more exotic plants like palm trees. Glendurgan garden captured my imagination the most, with its gradual incline down to reach Durgan Beach where you could buy ice creams from a hut. In the centre of Glendurgan garden sat a cherry laurel maze which path could be viewed from higher ground opposite. 

Cherished memories admiring gloyn byw (butterfly in Welsh) at the Pili Palas up with North Wales led to me to seek out Guys Butterfly House right down the tip of Cornwall. My favourite was the striking blue morpho butterflies with vivid blue wings on one side whilst the underside is a dull brown with many eye spots for camouflage. 

I last visited the Tate St Ives nine years ago. There was a temporary exhibition for Rivane Neuenschwander at the time called I wish your wish. Hundreds of ribbons hung from the walls, each ribbon had a wish from a local resident printed on it, we were invited to take a wish and tie it round your wrist. When the ribbon falls off the intention is that wish would be granted. 

The ribbon I chose I no longer have, but I remember the wish being something to do with seeing the world through child’s eyes again.