Last day in Portreath

We woke to beautiful sunshine and only a light breeze, so it was the perfect morning to hike the Coastal Path for a few miles, where we watched a Royal Navy rescue helicopter hover in place over the ocean for a long stretch of time - we assumed that it was a practice maneuver, since the seas were calm and there was no sign of an emergency.  And we tackled another of the incredibly steep sets of steps cut into the hill that substitutes for switchbacks here - this one from the cliff top down to the tiniest creek at sea level, then back up again.  And, of course, taking it one direction meant having to do it again on the way back.  Whew.

But the views were amazing.

Having worked up an appetite, we had lunch at the pub, then set out for Lanhydrock, a Victorian mansion and gardens that is owned by the National Trust.  Unlike many of their holdings, this one isn't lived in, so all the rooms are open to the public (about fifty of them), and they are furnished like they were in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.

The bright, sunny morning had disappeared behind clouds, as we've come to expect in the afternoons here, and, true to form, the rain was pelting down in earnest when we arrived, but the National Trust had big golf umbrellas for our use as we walked down the long avenue to the house.

We got the "Upstairs, Downstairs" view, with both the servants' areas and the family's set up as they would have been.

I think this cheese may have been sitting there for a while.

Pool, anyone?

The gentleman's bathroom, which he didn't share with his wife.

The drawing room, which I recently learned was short for "withdrawing room," meaning the room where you could withdraw to from the public rooms (like the formal dining room).

This is the view from the morning room - I wouldn't mind having a second cup of coffee here.

To further add to the realism, a pianist was playing popular tunes from the 1920's on the Steinway in the long gallery.

The house was spectacular, and the gardens even more so - and the rain had let up while we toured the house.

There are formal gardens near the house (that's a parish church behind the house, not part of the National Trust).

And there are acres upon acres of woodland gardens, full of rhododendrons, camellias, magnolias, and carpets of bluebells.

That's a single rhododendron bush (tree!) in the background - this is a perfect climate for them.

We couldn't pass up a "cream tea," served in the housekeeper's room.

A perfect way to end our time in Cornwall.