Wicked Stepmother

I have spent 4 days in Cornwall recently at the behest of the above; it wasn’t pleasant but I managed to escape periodically to a magical land. It saved my soul. The sun shone & everything glittered, like only Cornwall can for me. I’ll post my inadequate photos, but really how my eyes & senses continue to be opened.
Firstly a thankyou again for the wonderful blogs & pictures on this site. I would never have dreamed as a young girl that I’d switch off the telly & read & marvel at these places. It’s soppy, & sounds over emotional ( a woman’s lot – joke) but you strangers enrich my life. Ok enough of that.
On the way down to Corny, a 7 hour drive, we visited Stoney Littleton. It pissed it down. The brook was overflowing; the uphill walk was slippy; the stiles were tricky for the continuing hop a long ( hip replacement imminent) but we both breathed & laughed. First time for a while. It felt like freedom.
From then on in, escaping from a nut job of a non blood related relative became easy & she affected me not.
Most vivid memories; a group of women strategically positioned around the Hurlers with a collection of crystals placed in the centre of the biggest circle. A clamber to the Cheesewring missing Rillaton Barrow yet again. Trethevy quoit meister! Feeling decidedly dizzy in Carn Euny fougou. Not being able to brave visiting Brane too closely because of vicious looking bovine creatures ( a first for me, I’m used to benevolent cows, I live in Lancashire!) The Pipers; what! Boscowan Un, a nurturing sanctuary. Lanyon Quoit, the retriever. Men an Tol & I schleped through the hole whilst worrying about whether or not I was adding to potential wear & tear a getting a bit mucky; also whether I was doing it from the right side, & whether once was enough. Is once ever enough?
Then the Nine bloody Maidens, Stones, whatever, up the hill from Men an Tol. Yeah, found them TSC! It took me an hour. I knocked on a local farm door (no answer). I asked two delightful locals walking; they’d no idea. I then approached a scantily clad young couple who were out & about & they guided me on my way. A beautiful spot. Unassuming & magical. Like my beloved Sunkenkirk this place swims in & out of view; well to me that is. Now I KNOW where it is. All of a sudden I can see. There’s stones all over the place up there, I was bewildered.
We met a lovely woman whilst on our travels called Linda, who we took to the stones, she was overcome by the “energies”. I liked her, we’re still in touch. She asked if I could feel it. I said I felt grounded & happy; I think that was ok, but secretly I kind of knew what she meant; I think.
To stop myself from committing step matricide, & to balance my chakras for the journey home I focused on a tiny bit of Dartmoor, which made a 7 hour journey home more like10 hours but it was well worth it. The stone rows, the Plague Market blew me away. How beautiful are they? How exquisitely beautiful. What on earth?
I’m aware I’m doing the touristy bits but you’ve gotta start somewhere. That bloody Plague Market.Wow:)