The British weather strikes again. Yesterday, the forecast for our week ahead was fair with plenty of sunshine. We certainly finished yesterday with glorious sunshine, albeit with a cloud bank on the western horizon putting paid to sunset photos of Wheal Coates. Despite having had a startlingly wonderful summer, this morning we awoke shrouded in thick mist with the day’s forecast now suggesting mist/fog for most of the day. “Bother”, said Pooh, crossly. At least it wasn’t raining.
There are a few reasons for me to come to Cornwall, two of them being Cornish pasties and Rattler cider. We’d had one pasty at Sedgemoor services on our journey down but now I was keen to get my first pint of Rattler. We decided to walk through the mist across the lower part of the beacon into St. Agnes itself. ‘T was a little cool in the mist so I put on something more than a T-shirt.
Francine had been advertised at on Farcebook and was keen to find a clothing shop called Finisterre headquartered in St. Agnes. We began crossing the beacon in search of our goals. I soon realised that my change of clothing had been a mistake – I was over dressed and wished I’d kept my T-shirt option.
Entering St. Agnes, Francine began navigating using Google to find Finisterre. It wasn’t so much in St. Agnes as out the other side, up a fairly steep incline, down a few country lanes at another wheal, Wheal Kitty. I was uncomfortably warm and thought Finisterre may be able to supply me with a more comfortable T-shirt.
I am not one for over decorated T-shirts but happily most of those supplied by Finisterre were largely plain, with just a logo on the left breast. Less happily, they were all around the £40 mark, something of a mark-up from my usual £8. Still, needs must; Francine chose one of an unusual colour for me.
Meanwhile Francine had been eyeing up a thinly padded jacket with a hood but was baulking at the price, closer to £200 than £100. She switched her attention to a jumper which was a mere £120.
“Look, if you’re in love with it, get the jacket”. Having had her arm twisted, she succumbed … and got both the jacket and the jumper. At least Francine got a 10% discount for signing up to the Finisterre newsletter.
The skies had largely cleared and we exited the shop in pleasant sunshine. The accommodating sales assistant removed my T-shirt labels so I could change into it and wear it home. It reminded me of buying a new pair of shoes as a child.
We walked more comfortably back down the hill before climbing another hill back into St. Agnes. Calling in to the St. Agnes Hotel, I was happy to see a Rattler pump on the bar. Even Francine fancied one – well, a half. We ordered two portions of their calamari and a second round of drinks. The calamari was okay but not the greatest.
My first taste of Rattler on this trip had cost a tad over £300.
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