dachelle: (carl with the flag)
[personal profile] dachelle
The next morning we woke up to a lovely breakfast (scrambled eggs! Toast! Tea! Cheddar!), and then walked down to the bus station directly across from the train station to catch the bus to Land's End. We decided we also wanted to go to St. Ives that afternoon, which is on the opposite end of the peninsula from Penzance, though since the peninsula is pretty small that's only about a half-hour away. Our bus driver, seen here taking a smoke break, was very helpful and wrote down all the bus times for us to get there and back. Everyone in Cornwall was really nice.

The morning was overcast and misty. The bus stopped at Porthcurno, the birthplace of the transatlantic telegraph, and home of the Minick Theatre, where I snapped these pictures of the coast.

A short time later, we'd arrived at Land's End. Huzzah! All place signs in Cornwall have the Cornish place names after the English ones, by the way.

I took like 8 million pictures of Land's End, and going through them realized they all look like the same picture. I mean, it's a pretty place, but basically, it is what the name implies - a place where land ends.

The first and last telephone box and house in England. This is a big thing in Land's End. The first and last post box! The first and last toilet! The first and last pile of dog crap! You get the picture.

After we'd exhausted the scenic possibilities of the cliffs at Land's End, it was time to take in the Doctor Who exhibit, which has probably the best entrance ever.

The exhibit consists of lots of props from the new series, with screens playing clips from their respective episodes.

And here's me at...hey, what's that behind me?

Why, it's the statue from "Blink"! Which I will assure you is just as fucking creepy in real life as it was on the show.


And now - Dalek! It's so cute. It comes up from behind this wall and shouts "EXTERMINATE!" at you. I love the sign in front, "Do Not Touch the Dalek." If someone would like to icon that for me it would be brill.

The way out of the exhibit, with a familiar slogan:

When we got out of the Who exhibit, the mist had finally burned off, and it was sunny, allowing me to get a picture at last of what had become something of an obsession on our visit - the lighthouse a few miles offshore. I'd been trying to get a photo of it all morning and miserably failing. This attempt isn't much better, but at least you can see there's a lighthouse there if you click on the pic to make it bigger. Sort of.

Afterwards, we got on the next bus from Land's End to St. Ives, which is a pretty little coastal town just made to be put on a postcard, with shops and houses huddled up the hills by the beach and winding, cobblestone streets.

Yes, St. Ives, where they enjoy fudge!

And cute fluffy sheep!


Seriously, what is WRONG with the man in that pub sign? Why does he have three ferrets, and why does he look so creepily happy to have them? What have they been doing under his coat? Do I want to know?

The other thing to know about St. Ives is that they have seagulls. And not just any seagulls, which are common to every town in Cornwall. No, they have big, nasty seagulls, which have formed gangs so aggressive that the locals are forced to warn against them.

You thought I was kidding, didn't you? Anyway, basically, on the seafront at St. Ives every shop sells one of the following: pasties, fudge, ice cream. The bad thing is, none of the shops will allow you to eat any of those things inside, so you must take them out on the street. This is where the seagulls wait. Seriously, it's not that people are feeding the seagulls voluntarily. It's survival! Bianca got an ice cream, and we were walking on the pier towards the lighthouse. She was standing facing me, taking a bite, when suddenly this MASSIVE FUCKING SEAGULL came SWOOPING AT HER HEAD with a look of DOOM. I just stood frozen in terror. Nothing in my past life experience had prepared me to deal with seagull attack. The seagull failed in its initial attempt to steal the ice cream, and began to make a second swoop, whereupon Bianca tossed the remainder of the cone into the air, and the seagull gulped it down and flew away, finally sated. It was one of the most terrifying things I've ever experienced. I seriously thought it might rip her head off. I got an ice cream later, and ate it hunched over, nervously glancing up in fear.

Seagulls are scary, yo.

After that fraught experience, we relaxed in this pleasant garden before catching the bus back to Penzance, with not a little relief at leaving the seagulls behind, and going to bed to prepare for the next morning and our visit to St. Michael's Mount.

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