Really dumb thing to do. For the first time ever my ‘go whatever’ mentality wavered and I had resigned myself to building an igloo on the lawn. Fresh snow made the drive to the sea look dodgy but annoyingly Dave’s Subaru made short work of it and we found ourselves in Boscastle ready to set off in temperatures of about 5 below, having met up with fellow die-hards Austen and Keith.
Great paddling round the inshore side of Short and Long Island and some gob-smacking cliff scenery and gulches to explore. What on earth are those ancient walls and paths down to precipitous cliffs and inlets all about? I hope people didn’t used to load tin or copper onto ships around here- their beards would have gone grey waiting for a calm enough day. Gotta be crazy. But not as crazy as kayaking on this particular day of Siberian climes.
We coffeed on Bossiney beach and found a baby seal which wasn’t looking too clever with a missing eye. Great Black-backed gulls guilty I suspect.
We really didn’t need a headwind for the return trip but it arrived as forecast. We tucked in close to the islands and shore to baffle the wind. Precipitous cliff faces were all absorbing so took our minds off the flog.
Just managed to get through the doors into the Cobweb inn in Boscastle before becoming clinically ill through lack of bodyheat. Pint of Guinness cures all.