St Just To Cape Cornwall

Day 3 of our holiday dawned to weather that in Cornwall could only be described as mizzling - that fine, mist like drizzle that you barely notice until you realise that your hair has frizzled up into a giant pom pom (but maybe that's just me) and the damp has seeped through your shoes.

It didn't matter, it was warm and the forecaster (not that I held much faith with them any more) had promised that it would clear by lunchtime and the sun would shine.

In deference to my knee which had, since the marathon which was Janet's house move developed a tendency to swell alarmingly when over used, we took the van as far as St Just on our day out.

I'd mentioned the day before on FB that our intention was to visit there and Steve, a dear work friend who has since retired to another part of the country mentioned that St Just was a place that he had spent several of his teenage years.

I've visited St just before but never really explored it, in fact, the furthest I've ever really got is the lovely tea shop come book shop in the centre:

Where they serve your coffee with a tiny square of fruit cake in the teaspoon and piping hot tea cakes dripping with butter but I'd promised Steve I would have a wander round and take some photos for him and, if I could find it, a few of the place he used to live in.

Which I did:

This is the terrace where Steve used to live - isn't that a great name?

And the terrace of little cottages is SO pretty!

My wandering also took me into a tiny antiques shop.  In fact, it was less of a shop, more of a front room:

Crammed with just about EVERYTHING

I couldn't resist trying to get a photo of the room beyond:

The kitchen of the house/shop

Complete with this little guy:

Who was so sweet and came out to say hello

 As we wandered around the village I spotted a little lane leading down the side of the church so we went to investigate:

 Past these lovely cottages:

We stumbled across THIS:

 It was like stepping into another world:

So peaceful

With beautiful views

and banks of wild flowers

Some of the people buried here must have been pretty influential:

And I can't decide if this is really touching or just really sad:

Not a great photo so if you are struggling it says:

'Long nights and days she bore in pain
To wait for cure - twas all in vain!
But God above he thought it best
To ease her pain and give her rest

Ultimately it's really sad, she was only 32.

From St Just we cycled down the hill towards Cape Cornwall, it was still mizzling but there was a promise of sun breaking through the clouds.

On the way we passed a sign:

Interesting so I investigated further ...

The toilets turned out to be one portaloo and the washing facilities were a tap and this!

I LOVE it!!

I'm trying to persuade SD to spend a night there next year!

So that was ST Just and I got about half through the bit about Cape Cornwall and decided that the post was rambling on so the Cape can have a post of it's own in a day or two.