On the non-fishing front and after two weeks of fish, fish, fish, it was my turn to choose a day out (first making sure Keith hadn’t got his ‘smuggler’ with him) so at around 10.30 on an overcast morning last week, we boarded the MV Balmoral sailing out of Ilfracombe to ‘Padstein’ (Padstow, Cornwall).
It’s fair to say that until now, I’ve been a stalwart landlubber - an early experience of a crossing to Caldy Island infused my brain with unpleasant memories of an entire trip spent ground-baiting the ocean floor! Anyhoo, on a more recent crossing to Lundy Island, my folk-singing mate Reg advised me to focus on the horizon and to sing to take my mind off the, then force-eight gale, which was tossing the MS ‘Oldenburg’ around like a cork in white water. The tactic ensured a comfortable seat as everyone ran for cover (from the singing) and believe you me it worked again on this latest voyage. I avoided the old heave-ho as the boat pitched and rolled on what the Purser assured me was a low swell!? I think not!!! Most of my fellow passengers appeared to be parting with their full English (note to self: ‘remember not to sit down-wind of passengers in future’). Later, I was amazed to see one such person sitting on the ground, tucking into a huge portion of fish and chips!! There’s British stoicism for you.
Before we made the trip, I really should have listened to Keith and checked the weather forecast. The sun had gone into hiding and leaden skies threatened us with a soaking but no way was I going below decks. Another trick I’ve learned is to avoid this at all costs. It seems that something happens to one’s brain which demands that one’s body rejects anything consumed in the previous 24 hours. So, with all of this good advice on avoiding sea-sickness, you can imagine I was feeling pretty smug when, four hours after our departure from Ilfracombe, with eyes still firmly fixed on the misty horizon and repetitively humming the theme from ‘Titantic’, the MV Balmoral approached the much sunnier harbour of Padstow, where the Captain waited patiently for the Pilot to guide us in.
The downside of this latest mini-adventure was that we only had 30 minutes on land; just enough time to queue for the successfully marketed Stein’s fish and chips and to purchase a bottle of specially brewed ‘Chalky’s beer, named after his feisty little terrier who departed for ‘doggy heaven’ sometime ago. As fish and chips go, they were quite tasty but at £6.75 (plus mushy peas) they weren’t the least expensive I’ve eaten but to be fair, we’re pretty spoilt anyway because Torrington has one of the best chippies in the South West. Was it worth travelling to Cornwall for? Probably not; half an hour after arriving and the only flavour of Padstow being the chips, we reluctantly joined the ant-trail back to the boat ready for sailing at 4.30 p.m.
Homeward bound, the sun shone in vivid blue skies and warmed us on the relatively smooth crossing to Ilfracombe where our arrival was greeted by a bell-ringing Town Crier in full regalia. All in all, we’d had a great day out and to round off the experience I wanted something light to eat after lunch ‘Stein-style’. We usually choose Damien Hirst’s Number Eleven, but I wanted to try somewhere new, so bypassed the harbour-front restaurant and headed for the unexplored side-streets. The choice paid off and we found a gem of a restaurant.
La Gendarmerie (Ilfracombe’s former Police station) is a stylish brasserie which is located in Fore Street. We hadn’t booked a table and despite the fact that we were looking generally red-faced and dishevelled from the sea-breezes, we were made to feel very welcome. The food and service from owners Paul and Sarah Becouam were first-class, which means it’s definitely on the tick-list of ‘foodie’ places to revisit. A perfect end to a perfect day and not a lesser-spotted dogfish in sight!