 The incredible clifftop spot at Pendeen Lighthouse, just minutes from our stay. Throughout my adult life, period dramas have been driving inspiration for me to travel, doing internet searches for filming locations of favorite shows. After discovering the popular drama Poldark, set in late 1700s-early 1800s Cornwall, I firmly added the coastal region to my travel bucket list. I had previously heard and seen photos of Cornwall’s natural beauty, remoteness, and considerable history, but once again, as it always is with travel, you must see it to believe it. The main magnetic draw that established in my mind as we hit Kynance Cove, the first spot of incredible coastline seen from our 6.5-hour car journey from London, was the remoteness. It takes being in a car, seeing and feeling the distance from a metropolis to a rugged coastline to grasp the isolation of a location. Flying somewhere can dilute our sense of distance, and while it’s quicker, I can’t recommend enough the long but rewarding drive to the western coast of England, where you feel truly “away” from it all.  Kynance Cove, our first glimpse at coastline and used for filming Poldark. Since traveling to nature destinations in the last two years, I’ve definitely been more balanced in my love of nature vs. city travel. They both offer completely different experiences and emotions, and after being in the Big Smoke since my trip to Austria earlier in the year, it was high time for this getaway. Choosing an Airbnb in the small village of Pendeen was intentional. I wanted to get as far away from London as I could for a bit. You can’t really get any farther, as Pendeen is almost parallel with, and only a 20-minute drive from Land’s End, the westernmost point of the UK mainland. If you look west straight from the point, New York is only a mere 4000-some miles in front of you, with a bit of ocean in between. For a minute, home seemed closer than London. Land’s End’s name is pretty much the feeling you’d think when being there. The rest of civilization feels small while you sit there, with a pint of cider in hand watching the sun set 23 minutes after it already has in London. Such scenery cannot help but induce waves of emotions too, crashing around in your mind like the very waves beneath you. I felt passionate appreciation for the beauty all around me, for the opportunity to be in that place, to embrace a skyline that was woven into the culture and history around it and know that every glance I had at that scenery was a gift not to be taken for granted. A 5-day trip was just a little but intoxicating taste into the slow life of Cornwall. Being in a specific place is the only way to really understand a culture and appreciate how we all are beautifully knit together. On top of the two days of distance travel, we thankfully had wonderful weather to see lots of western Cornwall’s landscapes. First was a trip to St. Michael’s Mount, the famously romantic Island, a-top which sits a castle and church owned by the same family for generations. The island has been a strategic stronghold for centuries, and what adds to its draw is the tidal causeway connecting the island to mainland by foot. Only open for a few hours a day by low-enough tide, this walkway made the Mount feel more ancient, exclusive and remote. Walking up on those sand-washed stones to such a novel-esque sight and ascending the stone steps and cobbled ramps to a fairytale castle with views of surrounding blue and green horizons was the perfect introduction to ancient Cornwall. Such sights can’t help but inspire dreams of perfect peace.  The romantic St. Michael's Mount at low tide, on approach. While the castle and harbor, with its dotted little village buildings and toppled over boats patiently expecting the water to come back in, line the view on from the mainland, the reverse view coming from the sea must truly be a sight. Boats circled the island while we explored, and they would witness one of the most unique vertical gardens I’ve seen. The closest I can compare it to is a mini-Kew; the world-famous Garden in Southwest London. Tight, snake-like paths wove up and down from the high castle walls to the grass level, intricately landscaped with thousands of varieties of cactus, succulent, flowers, trees, vines, and countless plant species. No detail was too little, from large palms to single bud succulents carefully planted into stone cracks. Onlookers from a boat would see an explosion of color to completement the unreal scenery surrounding. It’s as Mediterranean as Cornwall could get. Inside the castle, ancient weapons and paintings as well as family photos mingled to create a blend of history and home, and the cozy feeling that made you realize a castle can still be a place to reside with modern memories. We crossed back minutes before the tide washed in and watched the boats balance back to their use, making the island once again an oasis on the Cornish coastline, romantically remote until the next day. As is typical of a Cornish holiday, the next day was also spent at the seaside, this time in sunny St. Ives. The popular destination is full of beach and harbor views, winding village pedestrian walkways, local artisan shops, gourmet treats, and the inevitable seagull soaring around, waiting to grab your chippies, pasty, or ice cream cone. So often is the occurrence, that there are signs in the shops and around the beaches warning tourists, and making it clear by the businesses that no, you won’t get another one for free.  St.Ives, but feeling very Hamptons St. Ives offered a low tide when we arrived, and immediately we set out to walk barefoot across the rolling sands far out from the harbor and once again, it’s toppled boats. We dipped our feet into the cold but refreshing crystal blue waters. The expanse of melted together blue horizon and waters calmed and reset my brain, and made London melt away from memory. We wound our way through the little streets after, seeking a popular lunch spot recommended to us. Amazingly, we were seated immediately with an incredible waterfront table. I was glad, but immediately thought of the possible gulls descending on my food, so the entire meal was a balance of eating and looking up. After admiring the beach before us, which was a separate cove from the harbor earlier in the day, we went out back onto the sands with a blanket, a book, and had a proper rest. I enjoyed the sun, the sounds, and my current subject matter of the life of Hans Holbein, Henry VIII’s portrait painter. Some passions can’t be left in London. The day promised other goodies, like ice cream, shell shops, and my first Cornish pasty, a famous Cornish delight historically eaten by miners to give them fuel as they worked in dark and cramped mines all day. A pasty traditionally is meat, potatoes, onions, and other veg, in a flaky pastry crust. While many versions of the dish are made today, I kept it traditional and took mine to go. We drove back to Pendeen, sun-kissed and calm, along the striking South West Coastal Path at golden hour. No words can properly relay the lush green fields, separated by ancient stone borders, and dotted with villages, farms, and grazing cattle and sheep, all on rolling hills cut off by a jagged coast, and then nothing but blue. Shivers. We wound our away out to the Pendeen Lighthouse, a few minutes from our humble cottage stay, and were surprised to be mostly alone on a coastal cliff covered in heather and wildflowers as the sun set. We once again laid out the blanket, took out our pasties, and had our dinner with the most fitting view possible. I thought of the thousands of people throughout history that had sat here with their pasties before us. Lovers, friends, families, and wanderers would have watched the endless waves, talked about their lives, and dreamed dreams. It was a moment in time to be cherished, to be grateful to be alive, and to stare in awe across the dotted tin and copper mines from period dramas and real life alike.  Soaking in the unreal scenes just before sunset Rain, inevitably, filled our third day. It didn’t stop us from seeing as much rural areas and more cliff-sides and beaches as we could. The one that struck me the most was famous Holywell Bay, from many a sunset Poldark scene. In the stormy weather, it was another creature. In my yellow rain jacket, I hiked around a dune and was met with a desolate wide expanse of beach. Rain poured and wind roared from every direction. A few locals walked their pooches, but it was mostly empty. The vast beach still carried an unimaginable magic. I’m of the strong opinion that there is equal beauty in the rainy days as the sunny ones, and England is one of the best places on Earth where the rain suits the natural beauty so well. That beach, as many other a place here, is built to be admired by rain as well. The stormy waves crashed onto the sand, creating vivid whitecaps. The sound of the wind hummed its own tune, one of peace and noise in equal fervor. The cliffs took hit after hit of waves from each side, and from steady downpour as well, as if unfazed. Many people would see such sights and run, but all I wanted to do was stay. I was enamored by the convergence of emotions falling over me, and the battering of the weather all around me. It was overwhelming but I was calm. I wanted to run like the wind across that beach. I wanted to dip into the waves like I couldn’t feel the cold. I was becoming soaked by the minute but didn’t feel it as I should. It was the perfect experience of being at one with nature, feeling the deepest connection to a place in time and knowing that feeling would never leave you. Rain is just as beautiful as the sun, and dare I say, more deeply romantic. Cornwall was the perfect escape. It is not a place you easily leave mentally. It’s a state of being, of breathing fresh, of reflecting. Winding one-lane roads lined with hedgerows and stone walls. Sprawling hydrangea bushes are the most beautiful you will ever witness. Cliff sides change your perspective. And like all good things in life, you have to work a bit harder to get there.  On the lookout for Ross Poldark, in an ultimate regency moment for me
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 The Bridge of Sighs lived up to its name- but do you know the real reason for it's label? Constructed after it's inspiration in Venice- where prisoners would be taken across and get one last look at their beautiful city before being taken and sentenced to their fate on the other side. One would understand why they would *sigh*. As in American, I try to think back to a time when we learned about the prestigious universities around the world- the Ivy Leagues. Did we see them in film and read about them in social studies? Was it by word of mouth? Their prestige preceded them-hundreds of years of fostering famous students who discovered something and changed the world. It definitely shifted my world. You will see that it's no surprise that my first visit was major inspiration for my final tailoring collection- in terms of history, also of architectural lines, and color. Oh the color. As you probably realize by now, I tend to be more interested in visiting English cities than American, and so after moving here, I naturally wanted to experience the fame of Oxford and Cambridge. Now seeing both, they each have incredible beauty that only can be described as an English gothic romance, a trend that every other town here seems to follow and you NEVER get tired of, but I believe both universities deserve their own posts, as they can't truly compare without compromising their individual aesthetics. Cambridge lies about an hour north of London by train- the best way to travel. The station sits about a 20 minute walk from central- which is a bit of a hike compared to other towns, but is a nice warm up to slowly get introduced to the town from modern to olden. My first experience, and what I recommend along with every other blog in site- take a punting trip- but do it first thing. Buy your tickets online beforehand, from any of the great companies all packed together near the Cam river in town- and glide on the calm waters of the English Venice. The guides vary- a good one will tell you a lot of historical and trivial facts that make the trip fantastic, and others might respect the peace a bit. Both are nice options, but I prefer learning more (as always). The trip is about an hour, taking you through a back channel of the schools you don't see walking, and unless you are a student. The Bridge of Sighs, St. John's College, Trinity College and the Wren Library, the Mathematical Bridge, Kings College and Chapel, and countless other priceless places of dark romantic beauty- all aptly draped in English Ivy. In summer, it's all green and lush, and in fall, they turn the most gorgeous shade of wine- I recommend a fall visit. You have to see to believe. Fall is also best because school is in session- so students are walking around and making it feel more authentic. Also in session then is the Choir- and therefore evensong. Free to attend, evensong is the best way to see in and experience Kings College Chapel. I've been in my fair share of churches- but when I walked in there and my head inevitably turned up- my jaw dropped. You have to see it to believe it. Matched with the choirs song, seeing the Chapel for it's true purpose- echoing hundreds of years of song, history, and life, it was a life experience to be had. It was built by Henry VI- his passion for education and culture outmatched his desire to rule a country- and he wasn't great at looking kingly. This incurred the War of the Roses and the inevitable start of the Tudor Dynasty, who ruled majestically through dress and its power and symbolism. Nevertheless Henry VI- left us Cambridge and Eton, among others. Bless him. Wandering is the best option for this majestic college town- seeing Newton's Apple tree (still producing apples), eating a Chelsea bun at Fitzbillies, and gelato at Jack's. Pop into the Cambridge Press bookshop if you are interested in reading very niche academic research to broaden your mind- and see the oldest bookshop site in the UK that prints and publishes it's own. For an art and history injection, walk down to the Fitzwilliam Museum- a small but powerful mix of objects in a beautiful large gilded building. My personal favorite was visiting the new portrait of Will and Kate- aptly the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. It was excellently done and a feast for the eyes (but I'm a monarchist and a little biased). There's lots more to see and feel in this town- as a student you can get into many colleges and see what the public can't. When I have visited- I feel a familiar sense of comfort and belonging I only tend to feel when a place has a part of my future (we will see!), and the beauty of this town is wrapped around my soul. Only a day here feels lovely, but keeps you wanting more. The charm, history, and beauty lingers in every corner and in every season- from the wispy willows you pass under punting, to the gothic towers, the cobblestone streets, and the smell of academia. It's, as most corners of England, not to be missed.  All smiles to be on this ancient street- and around any kind of Tudor architecture. Isn't the ivy just incredible? Nestled in the Southern coastline of England is historically significant Rye, a town established officially in 1289 by King Edward I, but with roots much older than that. It's position on the English coastline means that its been a significant trading port and merchant post for well over a thousand years, and was likely a port and storage for goods like iron even to the Romans. Rye would have been right on the water then, but now- it sits back about two miles from the coast, but still close enough to smell the fresh air and have the seaside aesthetic. Rye is the definition of quaint. Winding cobblestone street and side passages, ancient gates and towers of stone, uneven houses that utter pure charm and hundreds of years of stories. It's storybook England in a nutshell. The clashing of architectures from several hundred years can be seen door to door- and the preservation of history is remarkable to say the least. The English have such a respect for preservation and thank goodness- where else do you see a home that casually has "rebuilt 1420" on its facade? For reference- that's 70 years before Columbus set sail and discovered America. It's no wonder I'm an Anglophile over American. I've always been a history nut- but the UK has brought out this passion more than I ever had interest in America. I love all history- including America's brief 250 years- but England itself goes back 1000 years-and was further under the Saxons, Vikings, Romans, and hunter/gatherer societies for thousands of years (think Stonehenge). So yea- history nut me squeals a little at the sight of anything remotely old. Back to Rye (I very easily become sidetracked with history). There's lots to see, even though it's such a small town. It's customary to take your time and truly explore, that's the English way-and therefore the best option! Probably most famous in the town is Mermaid Street- its the one you see most of Instagram posts- and absolutely is worth exploring and snapping some pictures. But don't forget- you don't need a photo of every single detail. Live in the moment- and learn to put away your phone (its not natural to us- but it's life changing when you do). The steep street features Tudor architecture, trailing ivy, and uneven stones. Perfection. The Mermaid Inn is famously one of the oldest hotel/pubs, with cellars dating back to 1156, when the first structure was probably built. The current structure is from 1420- and still operational. Families still live in homes dotted all down the street- which makes the row more authentic and lovely. Every twist and turn is worth walking- all roads pretty much connect with each other- and along walks you will see the Ypres Tower, Landgate, and views out to the sea. The antique shops are the real deal- this can take you a day alone for a purpose trip! Cafes, independent shops, and pubs everywhere are welcome distractions, and since this is a tourist hub- the town is empty by the end of the day-and that's when its its most charming. I recommend staying the night if you can to experience this calm when everyone has returned to London. You won't regret it. Wander into a pub and have a pint- sit and smell the air- close your eyes and imagine the sounds of merchants bustling up and down the streets 500 years ago. Fully immerse yourself in what life might have been like. Take another sip, and live in the moment. A quick bus ride, or car if you have one, away is Camber Sands. The wide, bright, sprawling dune beaches are an incredible movie-scene sight. Sand beaches on the southern coast aren't the norm- so the exceptional beauty of this one is appreciated. Have a wander- eat an ice cream cone- and dip your toes in the Channel. Imagine seeing the Romans on their way to dock just ahead at Rye. The Earth has changed little- and we see many of the same sights they saw-albeit without the changes of technology. Breathe it all in. You can easily take a train between London and Rye in about 1/1.5 hours each way, depending on which line you take. Rye is historic England in a nutshell- and not to be missed. |
