A motorcycle parked in front of a tent on a pleasant green campsite

Home Travel StoriesStatic Caravan in Cornwall 2005 - By Ren Withnell

Static Caravan In Cornwall 2005 - Day 4

Tuesday morning we do nothing. Not nothing as in a boring nothing, just an easy, relaxed and chilled out nothing. I watch a bit of daytime TV, go to the shop for some breakfast and sit and talk with the gf. The topic of conversation still returns to the possibility of owning a caravan. Could we live in one? Could we use it as a holiday home and rent it out? What are the problems with renting out and would we make enough money to be worth the effort?

It’s a splendid, warm, sunny day. By lunchtime the sun is high in the sky above the dunes surrounding the caravan and neither of us is in the mood to do anything adventurous. We decide to walk back down to the beach and have a lazy afternoon. This is what I want to do, this is how I feel today. Yet I still feel I am letting myself down somehow by not being wild and adventurous, by not going out there and being dynamic. It takes a while but I convince myself it is OK to do normal things like everyone else does from time to time.

We get to the beach around 1330. We settle ourselves on the warm dry sand near a stream the springs from the small cliff at the edge of the dunes. As we settle I laugh at the gf, she’s obviously not quite got the hang of this whole sunbathing business, she’s not facing the sun. Some minor adjustments later and we are both optimally positioned and lying in the traditional English sunbathing format. I lie there for maybe 10 minutes but I give up, I’ve got to do something!

I wander down to the surf, full of bathers and bodyboarders. Walking is fine but slightly uncomfortable without my boots on. I have one leg shorter than the other so my boots are adjusted to compensate for this. The surfers are a short distance up the beach. The lifeguards on their 4 by 4 position flags on the beach, between red and yellow flags are the bathers and bodyboarders, between black and white flags are the surfers. I wonder why for a moment then shiver as I imagine a hard surfboard smashing into my skull at possibly 30 miles per hour. It does make sense.

Initially I let my feet get wet. Blinking Flip! The water is chuffing freezing and I let out that familiar “Ffff! Ooooh!” noise. I wander in a little deeper and the next wave splashes my knees and thighs. “Ffff! Ooooh!” I say again. Be brave Ren, you’re a big tough man now…god damn it that’s COLD! It takes me quite some time to be up to my waist then a big wave smashes into my chest. After the initial shock I’m starting to adjust and finally feel confident enough to have a play.

Before I know what I’m doing I’m out up to my neck and splashing around like a six-year-old. I’m screaming with delight and having a whale of a time. I don’t even notice the cold anymore, this is so much fun. I watch with envy as the bodyboarders eye up various waves then ride one back into the shoreline. I almost ask one chap if I can have a go with his, then consider drowning one of the kids and making off with theirs. I think better of this and eventually return back to the gf.

I’m a worrier. I wish I wasn’t and I really do try not to be, but I can’t just switch it off. I’m worried now the gf is possibly bored? She tells me she’s not and appears to be quite content to sit in the sun and relax. I sit again for a while but then I’m itching to do something soon again. As a child I loved to play at building dams in the streams on any available beach. So I’m off to play in the stream.

At first I feel stupid. I’m surrounded by kids all under the age of 10, all building their own dams. The parents are helping the kids, but I suspect they are building their own dams with the kids just helping. I start to build. I’m using my hands to dig but soon enough I have my own dam of about 4 square metres. I’m quite proud of my achievement and take a moment to look at it. I start to extend and strengthen then extend and strengthen again. Then some kids wanders into my dam and says “This yours mister?” I stop and look down in shame then quietly reply “er…yes.” He splashes through it that causes a massive tidal wave which breaches a wall. I leave and return to the gf, sulking.

Kids playing in MY stream, humbug!

Later I return to the waves for another splash then finally settle down. I can’t do it! I can’t sit still, so I start to dig. At about 1 and a half feet down I hit the water table and pebbles. Still digging I create a large underground pool. Eventually we decide to leave which comes as a relief because I am enjoying myself far too much. We start the long ascent up the path and concrete road to the campsite.

The Zig-Zag path leading up from the beach-

Back at the caravan I am totally covered in sand. The sand in Portugal seemed to fall of on its own, here the sand sticks to me, hard. I shower but I need to scrub and scrub. The gf has to scrub my back. It takes almost 20 minutes to get the gritty stuff out of all my body parts and when I emerge I wonder if I am pink from the sun or pink from scrubbing. We make tea and feed ourselves then settle in for another evening of watching TV and doing what comes naturally when I’m with the gf.

Static Caravan In Cornwall 2005 - Day 1
Static Caravan In Cornwall 2005 - Day 2
Static Caravan In Cornwall 2005 - Day 3
Static Caravan In Cornwall 2005 - Day 4 Just a lazy day at the beach with nary a motorcycle in sight.
Static Caravan In Cornwall 2005 - Day 5
Static Caravan In Cornwall 2005 - Day 6
Static Caravan In Cornwall 2005 - Day 7
Static Caravan In Cornwall 2005 - Day 8

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Home Travel StoriesStatic Caravan in Cornwall 2005 - By Ren Withnell

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