The long journey home - In the name of Thiago - Day 49



So after a lovely four days of being battered and bruised by the elements of a late Cornish winter, it is time to go home. I’m writing this in the morning as we won’t be home until fairly late this evening when I reckon I’ll be bushed and anyway this allows me to reflect on the many highs and lows of our trip in a more measured fashion.



First off though let me start with last night and a trip to perhaps my favourite pub, not just here in Cornwall but anywhere in the UK – the Blue Anchor. The pub is a former Monk’s Rest and has been operating as a boozer in Helston for around 600 years. With slate floors and snugs throughout, this is an absolutely magnificent little pub just waiting to be discovered. Go and discover it!

I had thought it might make a nice opportunity for Angelica and I to spend some quality time together but by the time I’d finished last night’s blog, that had changed to Angelica and Auntie Diane were staying in to hit the gin while I was being volunteered as company for Uncle Harry to go down the battle cruiser.

This comes with risks attached. My uncle Harry is a fairly droll Mancunian who likes to spin a yarn. Lots and lots of yarns in fact. We arrived at the pub at 7.45 and departed a little over two hours later when the monologue had ended.

He’s actually a very intelligent chap with a fascinating life to reflect on having served in the forces for many years – he had an interesting line or two to offer on Prince Andrew – and has got where he has in life by exercising prudence at most corners. I only wish he’d lighten up a little now and enjoy his retirement more fully, as at the age of 75 he still seems obsessed with the idea of saving!

(yep it's raining again but this is the view from my uncle and aunt's gaff across the Helford river)

Diane and Harry have always said that their door is open and that means a lot. They know that my family has been through the wringer in the last three months and that we were in desperate need of respite. This trip to Cornwall has certainly offered that and if I can be brutal about it, it’s not cost us an arm and a leg either. Thank you Diane and Harry, your kindness means a lot to us.

And so I must get in the mindset of leaving beautiful Cornwall and making the trip to Winterslow; the tiny village in Wiltshire where my dad has been staying with my sister. It’s 200 miles from here to Winterslow and then a further 180 to Newcastle-under-Lyme. Time waits for no man, so I’d better sling my hook. I’ll write for you again in Staffordshire folks…


Don’t forget why I’m doing this folks and please help me raise money for UHNM Charity and Birmingham Children’s Hospital. Thank you.

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