Cream and steam

With thanks to Silversea for this cruise

We woke to Fowey (pronounced Foy) this morning - a little Cornish fishing port that's now more dominated by its marina full of private yachts, and once saw many, many departures including transports to Australia, and forces to the D-Day landings. It's pretty, lots of pastel-painted plastered houses lining narrow lanes where cars look totally out of place and have to be very patient about pedestrians, who rule. 

First we went to do a steam train excursion, on the Bodmin and Wenford Railway. The drive there was pretty, through the summer countryside, and the trip on the train was pleasant, if unremarkable - about 20 minutes along the tracks, and then back again. I think you'd have to be a real steam enthusiast to get excited about that. I did enjoy though that we were in the First Class carriage, with comfortable old armchairs and little lamps, and, best of all, a cream tea laid out waiting - which I was ready for, not having had breakfast (I'm sick!)

Our guide, Peter, was emphatic that the correct technique is to put the jam on first, and then the clotted cream - which is what I've always done, but there is an equally fervid school of thought that it's the other way around. Anyway, it was very welcome, with a cup of tea.

I had a wander around Fowey when we got back, astonished by the sheer numbers of domestic tourists clogging the streets, and also by all their dogs - truly, so many shiny pampered pooches, it was lovely to see. I enjoyed poking round the little lanes and alleyways on the steep hillside, and marvelling at all the souvenir shops - and bakeries - and looking at the variety of boats out in the harbour.

Then it was back to the ship for a nap before Trivial Pursuit, where my team was pleased to have me on board (O neg, Drake Passage, gorilla, ballistics, Fiji) though we got K2 wrong (it's in Pakistan). We came third today.

Later, we glided away under a grey sky, along a mercifully calm sea, heading for Ireland. Apparently, there was a solid border of waving people along the harbour wall in Fowey as the ship drew away, but I was in our suite on the other side and saw only a few observers standing on the rocks below Polruan, on the opposite shore - but they waved too. Dinner was shared with two New Jersey bridge masters and an Australian actor/voiceover artist/playwright who fell satisfyingly instantly into my trap when I mentioned Adelaide and convicts in the same breath.