Home Again!

Sat in the bay window of my grandparents' house in Newlyn, Cornwall, it seems for a moment as though the last 8 months never happened. Looking down over the rooftops of the village and the tangle of yellow-masted trawlers that huddle in the shelter of the stone-walled harbour, the sea sparkles blue in the May sunshine. The promenade curls round to the town-houses and church spires of Penzance, where the battered, but still gracious, old bathing pool points out into the bay. Overseeing all of this, the enigmatic, castle-topped St Michael's Mount faces proudly seawards, just as it always has.

This has been our bolt hole for the last 2 weeks after our return from Hong Kong and it has proved perfect for the purpose. Cornwall in May can be a match for anywhere in the world and this May has been blessed with some glorious weather. The hedgerows are awash with wild flowers and it has been mostly warm enough to walk the cliff tops in shirt-sleeves.

The first things that we noticed, though, was how calm and ordered and peaceful everything seems and how polite (with the odd exception) everyone is. For the first time in 8 months, we don't feel the need to sharpen our elbows when we join a queue!

For anyone needing a release from the stresses of life, a hike along the remote parts of the Cornish coast takes a lot of beating. The air is clean and fresh, with only the sound of the gulls and the rush of the surf to distract from the stunning views of rugged cliffs and sandy coves. Watching the infinite patterns of the ocean crashing onto the rocks, it is easy to lose all sense of time and question how we manage to make our lives so complicated.

It's great being here before the main tourist season is in full swing, which has allowed us to get to places that would be swamped in July and August. We've walked in splendid isolation along the cliffs to Lamorna, Porthcurno, Cape Cornwall and around the Lizard and even found a parking space in St Ives! From the house, we have also had our daily walks along the promenade to Penzance and around the headland to Mousehole.

The promenade between Newlyn and Penzance was nearly washed away by the winter storms here and everywhere there is still evidence of the damage wrought, with broken paving slabs and twisted railings. In places the concrete path has disappeared altogether, reclaimed by the beach, and the art-deco bathing pool remains closed and filled with rubble blown in by the storms. But it's still an enjoyable walk and lots of work is ongoing to restore and improve it, with new paths, lawns and flower-beds.

Newlyn is a thriving working village, famous for 2 unlikely bed-fellows: fishermen and artists! The fishermen value it's sheltered harbour and it's location at the far south-west of England, jutting out into the Atlantic; the artists it's wonderful light, natural setting and unpretentiousness. It's a quirky mix, quite different from the usual tourist impression of Cornwall, which is refreshing. I have been coming here since I was a young boy and I never tire of it.

The path to Mousehole has been our favourite over the past couple of weeks. We follow the road out of Newlyn, which rises up above the harbour (always colourful and full of interesting activity) and then cuts down to the shore, where a cycle path follows the rocks. Atlantic grey seals and dolphins are regular visitors and we nearly always seem to spot at least one seal as we walk. Our ultimate target though has invariably been a small shop in the village that serves wonderful pasties and ice cream!

On the subject of Mousehole, I need to get something off my chest: what is it with everyone pronouncing it Mowzel?! It seems as though everyone has to put on a broad Cornish accent suddenly, which is akin to visiting Glasgow and pronouncing it Glazzgee - I think you'd probably get a 'Glazzgee Kiss' if you tried that one!

Mousehole (pronounced as it reads unless you have a Cornish accent!) is the quintessential romantic idyll of a Cornish fishing village, with old stone terraced houses crammed around narrow lanes, alleys and a small harbour. It is buzzing with life from spring to summer, but sadly little more than a ghost town in the winter, when most of the shops and restaurants close, as three quarters of the houses are second homes or B&Bs. The one pub in the village (The Ship Inn) does a roaring trade, but the owners are incredibly rude people (or they were to us), so we gave that a wide steer.

All of this makes it sound like we have been having a holiday down here. And indeed we have to some extent (Sue, in particular, has found this a haven), but this only tells half of it. We have had the small matter of 8 months of post to deal with and all sorts of personal administration to catch up on, not to mention the logistics of planning for the coming weeks and months.

We have decided that we will spend the summer months in the UK and we have managed to arrange a series of house-sits in Suffolk and Sussex to take us through to nearly the end of August. We're hoping that this will give us the time and space that we need to start thinking about our longer term plans and we both have some projects that we want to start working on. We also hope to continue catching up with friends and family, hopefully not boring them too much with our photos and travellers' tales!

If you liked the sound of our bolt hole down in the west of Cornwall, then I should tell you that you can stay there yourself and I have even negotiated a 10% discount for anyone who mentions this blog! You can find details at www.cornwall-online.co.uk/pengullyn-newlyn

So, this brings me to the end of the Tamworth Two blog. We hope that you have enjoyed reading our 'Grown Up Gap Year Tales'. Our travels have probably been tougher even than we had anticipated at the start, but we have seen many wonderful sights, met many interesting people and come away with experiences that will live with us forever.

We have made it hard on ourselves at times, but we wanted to see some of the world from ground level. As we travelled (from Europe to Russia, across the vast Siberian plains and Mongolian Steppe and on through China into South-East Asia and Australasia), patterns seemed to emerge. Europeans are a bit like Russians, who are a bit like Mongolians, who are a bit like Chinese...with more in common than divides. The laughter of children is the same, whether they are leaping into a muddy river in Laos or riding a boogie board in the surf at Manly; teenagers strut with the same swagger as they search for their own identities; adults lose themselves in the same anxieties for maintaining and improving their lives and elders look on with the same world-weary wisdom.

We have also been awe-struck by the landscapes that we have travelled through and enchanted by the wildlife. This was tempered by dismay at the amount of destruction and degradation by human hand that we witnessed. As populations continue to grow rapidly and developing countries, in Asia in particular, rapidly improve their standards of living, the pressure on the natural environment is only going to increase. We have seen evidence everywhere we have been that the earth is creaking under the pressure and without radical solutions to significantly reduce humanity's impact, we fear that nature will wreak her revenge - and we will have only ourselves to blame.

I will finish, though, with a more personal parting thought. One of the the foundations of this year for us, was that hopes and dreams deserve to be given a chance to become real. It is easy to keep them in one's mind, always finding reasons for putting them off. Of course there are risks involved and the reality may not be quite what one expected, but the biggest risk in life is surely of looking in the mirror one day and seeing looking back only unfulfilled potential and regret.

Looking out over Mount's Bay from our 'bolt-hole' in Newlyn

Bluebells and other wild flowers fill the hedgerows and meadows in May

The beach at Coverack

A secluded bay near Land's End

A view of Porthcurno from the Minnack

And finally...thanks again for reading!

 

The last port of call

Eight months, seventeen countries, well over a hundred different beds slept in...and here we are, down to the last one! As I reported in our last post, we have decided to make Hong Kong our last stop and we will fly back from here to London on 3rd May.


It feels like an appropriate place to end our journey. Hong Kong is one of the world's great cities: where east meets west; communism meets capitalism and high rise modernity disguises a tumultuous history.

We decided to avoid the hustle and bustle of the centre of Hong Kong and opted to stay instead in the relative peace of Lantau Island. The Special Administrative Region of Hong Kong (as it has been known since the final departure of the British in 1997) comprises some 262 islands, plus the mainland areas of Kowloon and the New Territories. Lantau is the largest of these 262 islands, but historically has been barely populated. Even today, there are fewer than 100,000 people living here, but that is changing rapidly. The north-east of the island is now connected by a road bridge to Kowloon, but more important was the opening of the spectacular new airport on reclaimed land just off the north shore. Development continues apace, with the construction of a 200,000+ capacity new town just south of the airport and the recent opening of Hong Kong Disneyland in the north.

Our home for 10 days, though, has been away from these developments in the small traditional town of Mui Wo. It is largely surrounded by steep hills on three sides and the South China Sea on the fourth. Before all of the developments mentioned above, it was the largest town on the island, but it's geographical restrictions means it will probably never get that much bigger. It's big advantages for us, in addition to the peaceful setting, are the presence of a single half-decent hotel and a ferry terminal. There are boats every 40 minutes that takes half an hour to cross Victoria Harbour to Hong Kong Central: costing us all of £2 each way.

We spent the best of a day walking around the Mui Wo area. The town is strung out around the Silvermine Bay and the Silver River as it makes it's short journey from the hills above the town into the sea. As these names suggest, silver was found in these hills and the town's growth was based on this. We followed the river out of the town towards the hills: past a couple of old temples decorated with ornate traditional Chinese painting and calligraphy; some stone watchtowers that used to guard against pirates who operated in the area and onto a waterfall and some caves where silver used to be mined.

We got chatting with an elderly Chinese couple who were following the same route. The pattern developed that we would overtake them, then they would wave frantically at us to warn us that we had gone in the wrong direction. Later an Aussie guy from Melbourne passed, on a decrepit bike with a 6 pack of Tsing Tao beer in the basket. We weren't sure if he was wobbling because of the bumpy road, the effort of cycling whilst trying not to spill the can that he was holding, or indeed whether this wasn't his first six pack of the day! He stopped for a chat with us for a while and it turned out that he had been living here for over a year and was taking a break from his business, which he was leaving in the hands of his sons back home.

Interestingly, there is quite a strong ex-pat community in Mui Wo, made up largely of Aussies and Brits. On our first evening, we stumbled onto the China Bear bar and restaurant, which turned out to be the spiritual home of the Mui Wo ex-pat with a Happy Hour selling draft European beer and live English Premier League football on the television. The staff wore ironic t-shirts of their own design, emblazoned with 'Micky Mao' - a subversive hybrid of the Disney character and the revolutionary leader.

Back at our hotel, we briefly contemplated a swim from the beach, but decided that the water looked too murky. This proved a good call, as we subsequently found there was a ban on swimming for much of our time here, due to a 'red tide'. This is basically where brown algae spreads uncontrollably fed by a combination of warming seas and pollution in the water (particularly sewage and phosphates).

Mui Wo - a view across Silvermine Bay to our hotel

An old watchtower on the edge if Mui Wo

The entrance to the 400 year old, Ming Dynasty, Mar Mo Buddhist temple in Mui Wo

There were a number of other worthwhile sights on Lantau and we took a series of bus rides across the island to the small fishing village of Tai O and on to the Po Lin Monastery. Here in 1993, the monks unveiled the 'largest seated, outdoor, bronze statue of Buddha'. Having already seen the 'largest standing, outdoor Buddha' earlier on our journey, this felt like a must. We made a mental note to check whether the Guinness Book of Records has a specialist sub-section on Buddhas and, if so, how many sub-categories it contains. This Buddha, was though quite spectacular, proudly sitting 35 metres tall at the top of 268 steps in an area of wooded hills.

It was opened in the run up to Hong Kong re-joining China and a plaque recorded the statement of a senior Chinese government official. He made much of the symbolism of the Buddha facing north towards the mainland and of the importance that the Chinese government places on freedom of religious expression. It would seem from what we have seen in Hong Kong that, 17 years on from re-unification, people in Hong Kong continue to be allowed reasonably unrestricted freedom of expression - and long may this continue.

The Lantau Giant Buddha

Most of our time here, however, has been spent toing and froing from Lantau to Hong Kong and Kowloon. The ferry has been a great form of transport, allowing us to see the city from the harbour at all times of day and night. We also took the funicular railway up to the Peak; the tram all along the north shore; a bus right through the middle of Hong Island to Stanley and the famous Star Ferry, which chugs back and forth across Victoria Harbour between Hong Kong and Kowloon.

The views of the urban skyline from the ferry, from the Peak and from the waterfront were all dramatic, though often marred by the smog which limited visibility for most of our time here. This is probably inevitable, given the 8 million people now living in Hong Kong, plus the large cities and industrial zones of Guangzhou just north in China.

The views are best at night, when the hundreds of skyscrapers on either side of the bay all lit up are the equal of any skyline anywhere in the world. At 8.00 each evening, crowds gather for a sound and light show, and some of the buildings light up or beam lasers skywards in synchronisation with the music. It sounded amazing, but in reality the scene didn't really need any further embellishment.

A view from the Peak, over Hong Kong, Victoria Harbour and on to Kowloon

The funicular railway, which has been carrying passengers up to the Peak since 1888

The Hong Kong skyline at night, viewed from Kowloon

3 Star ferries appearing to race each other across Victoria Harbour

Possibly the last of the old junks, sails along the Harbour shoreline

Hong Kong though is about much more than just the famous urban coastal strip that it is renowned for. The centre of the island is dominated by jagged peaks and forested valleys and the southern coast still has many small settlements and unspoilt sandy beaches. We took a couple of days out to explore some of these areas.

On one day we took a bus out of Central and followed the 'Wong Nai Chung Gap Trail'. This follows a ridge that looks out over a valley that separates the city from the east coast and tells the story of Hong Kong's experience of WWII. Today it is serenely peaceful on top of the ridge, but on 18th and 19th December 1941, one of the most ferocious battles of WWII was fought here, as the full force of one of Japan's most battle hardened infantry troops forced their way through the narrow valley that we looked down upon. The British had not given sufficient military resource to the island and the brunt of the defence fell on the men of the Hong Kong Kong Voluntary Defence Corp and a newly arrived battalion from Canada. They held out for a long 24 hours under intense bombardment and when they were inevitably overrun, the fall of the rest of Hong Kong also became inevitable.

The view from the Wong Nai Chung Gap, back to Happy Valley and the city beyond

The next day we went on to Stanley, the southernmost point of Hong Kong Island. It is a pleasant spot, with a sheltered bay, sandy beaches and traditional markets sitting next door to a modern shopping plaza. In 1941 though, this was the last hold-out for British forces and more heavy fighting took place before the final surrender on Christmas Day. The area to the south of the town was also used by the Japanese as an internment camp, where non-Chinese civilians (mostly being women and children) were imprisoned for more than 4 years in the most inhumane conditions.

A view of the old pier and the bay at Stanley

So, we have spent an interesting 10 days in Hong Kong, getting into the rhythm of the city. It is a dynamic, bustling, sometimes claustrophobic city with some of the most densely populated districts in the world, sitting close to areas of natural beauty. Even with re-unification with China, it has continued its way unperturbed: as it's own brochures describe it 'Asia's World City'.

Our thoughts though have to a large extent been on our imminent return to the UK. Thank you to everyone for reading this blog over the last 8 months. We have thoroughly enjoyed researching and writing it, even with some ups and downs along the way. We do think though that we have at least one more post in us, so next time out, we will try and put some thoughts together on our overall experience and where we might be going next.

And finally...watch out, the Tamworth Two are returning soon!