Cornwall: Coasts, places and pictures in our heads

St Ives was our temporary home. This was where we had our Airbnb, and where we set out to explore Cornwall. We came from London with a picture shaped at least as much by television as by the guidebook: Rosamunde Pilcher, picturesque coastal towns, a carefully presented past. The view across the harbour fitted that picture nicely. Houses beside the water, boats in the bay, the harbour wall facing the open sea. And two wide beaches, a headland battered by the sea on two sides. People wrapped up against the wind on the sand, watching the sunset. Walking through the lanes and along the waterfront, we noticed something else: shops, pubs and fish-and-chip restaurants that apparently needed little visible renewal. And an amusement arcade in a prime spot on the harbour, “Since 1934”. The difference between the beautiful view from a distance and our impression up close became the first article from this trip.

Lizard Point is the southernmost point of mainland Britain. That explains its geographical significance, but not yet its appeal. Here the water breaks in white bands against the rocks. Above lie green slopes, a few houses close to the edge. A lighthouse. There is scarcely room for a gentle transition. This immediate proximity of grass and sea is one of the images we take home from Cornwall. It also helps explain why the coast had occupied so much space in our idea of the trip. There is no need for a famous name or a story from television here. The landscape is reason enough to come.

Off Marazion lies St Michael’s Mount, a small tidal island with a castle at its highest point. Even from the mainland, it makes an almost perfect picture: water, island, trees and the silhouette of the buildings above. What is particularly striking, though, is the causeway, the paved path leading across. At high tide it disappears beneath the water. When the tide is low, it becomes a footpath. Anyone wanting to cross has to plan around the tides. The former monastery on St Michael’s Mount was, incidentally, a dependency of the abbey of Mont-Saint-Michel in Normandy.

Mousehole lies on the coast south of Penzance. The little harbour village is one of those views you keep encountering while planning a trip to Cornwall. Here, too, the boats in the harbour are left completely high and dry at low tide.

Land’s End is one of those names you know before you ever start planning a trip. The end of the land: it takes little more to conjure a picture. Individual rocks stand off the dark coast, wrapped in surf. Above them stretches a wide sky with torn clouds. Beyond the last rocks, the eye has nothing more to settle on for a while. Land’s End is the western tip of mainland England; for our trip, it is above all one of the great coastal views. It is also a distinctly touristy place: a large car park, visitor centre, restaurants, professional photographers. But a few metres away, there is only sea, rock and surf.

Cape Cornwall lies north of Land’s End. The drive down the single-track road to the cape is something of an adventure. In return, hardly anyone is here when we visit. Another cape, the Atlantic again — on a list, it could easily read as repetition. But the experience is always different. Here, the surf takes centre stage. Spray blows over a breaking wave, with the dark Brisons rocks behind it. Sky and water share almost the same muted colour. On the cape itself, a chimney remains as a reminder of its mining past.

Tintagel was spectacular. We were very lucky with the weather. In the morning, wisps of mist still rose and gently wrapped the ruins. Later, the cliffs shone in the sun. Again: green grass, steep rocks, surf. And alongside it all, the almost mystical place where, according to legend, King Arthur was conceived. A narrow bridge connects the mainland with the rocky headland where the early medieval settlement and the later castle stood. That experience, combined with memories of the tales of heroes and knights from my childhood, became the starting point for our second article about this trip.

In a former china clay pit stand vast greenhouses made up of geometric panels, known as the biomes. They house, among other things, tropical rainforest and Mediterranean plant life. Our photograph shows the pale domes amid dense greenery. It is a very different view from the old houses and harbours that had occupied our thoughts before. Opened in 2001, the site explores plants and our dependence on them. Its very creation tells a story of change: a place of mineral extraction became a garden and educational project. It is busy.