After my short stay in Dorset, I had an even shorter stay in Cornwall with my dad, brother and his girlfriend. We stayed in a house in the beautiful village of Mousehole; so tiny that we nearly scraped off the car's wing mirrors on the houses on each side of the road (tip: bring the smallest car you can.) The weekend we arrived was a local festival, so we were treated to a sweet setup on the harbour beach - a little donut stand, local crafts, a bar and a dance tent. We wandered round the harbour and took in the lights, before an early night. The next day we headed down to grab breakfast at a local cafe, and found ourselves in the midst of a procession to the beach, complete with marching band and tiny children in fancy dress on miniature floats. The top billed activity was a sandcastle building - and destroying - competition. That afternoon, we headed out to St Michael's Mount to meet my friend from school, Robyn, who's living the good life down in Cornwall now, with her two little boys. We walked around, admired the tractors (they're Rudy's favourite), played in the sand and got ourselves a big scoop of Cornish ice cream each. Back at home, we had a big barbeque, and finished our evening with gin and tonics and a walk to the harbour. On Sunday my dad and I took a trip on the train to St Ives. What started as a beautiful day turned into an incredible downpour, but after hiding out in the Tate for a couple of hours, we came out for an ice cream (what says 'British summer' more than stubbornly eating an ice cream on the beach in the pouring rain?) The next day, straight after breakfast, I was back on a train to London and reality - but what a lovely weekend.
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