Yet another ‘Spoons, this time the John Francis Basset in Camborne. The building is an imposing structure in the centre of Camborne, originally the Market House.
it was paid for by John Francis Basset, squire of Tehidy who made a great deal of money out of mining tin and copper (Poldark?) Wetherspoons acquired the building in 2010 and spent over a million converting it into a Hotel and restaurant/pub. I had a bit of a problem in finding my way in and security throughout is paramount. Once I had found reception, I was checked in by a charming lady who told me my bike had to remain downstairs. I didn’t have a problem with that and removed the battery to charge in my room on the second floor. Fortunately, there is a lift, so I didn’t have to cart my heavy panniers up 2 floors. The room was enormous, the bed comfortable and the shower excellent: no complaints. I washed myself and clothes, stuck everything on charge and went down for supper. Greene King IPA at £1.79 a pint, fish and chips and a side salad and roasted veg gave a bill of just over £20. Another pint and a pud added another £5, so I was well fed for £25. It’s basic cooking done well and the service via the app is second to none.
Despite the comfortable bed I still awoke at an ungodly hour and failed to get back to sleep; so felt a bit frazzled when I went down for breakfast at about 0800. I had yoghurt and fresh fruit followed by what they term a traditional breakfast, basically a small fry-up which cost a total of £7.63. Tea or coffee was available for no extra cost. It’s about par for the course but no longer cheap.
I was packed up and on the road by 0851 and quickly found my way out of Camborne on some quiet back roads, past the rugby club, now no longer the force they were back in my day, with Penzance Pirates being the premier club in Cornwall nowadays. I headed west through Connor Downs before crossing the A30 at a somewhat scary roundabout just short of Hayle. The traffic thinned a bit as I passed the Copperhouse Pool and the wide River Hayle estuary
as I headed for Carbis Bay and St Ives. I have paid an annual membership to Tate Galleries for many years, believing that art in all its forms is important. I seldom get the direct benefit of visiting the Tate galleries because I don’t go to London much, so today was an opportunity to get something back for my subscription by visiting Tate St Ives. I’ve been there before but not for many years and got rather lost in the back streets before I found it. I passed the harbour
and eventually had to ask the way. The building is somewhat hidden in its surrounds and overlooks the main beach at Porthmeor. To get into the building you have to climb substantial stairs or there is a ramp up which I took my bike as there was nowhere obvious to leave it at street level. At the top of the ramp is an open theatre with tiered seating and cushions and it was here I abandoned the bike. Inside you are greeted by a volunteer. I was able to brandish my membership card and was told that everything happened on floors 3 and 4. I couldn’t discover what happened on 1 and 2 and the remainder of the ground floor that wasn’t taken by reception. As to be expected most of the works on display are either by the St Ives artists of the early 20th century or their cohorts. There is a room devoted to Mark Rothko, the paintings now, hopefully, hanging the right way up. Perhaps the most impressive thing about the building is the way that the curved windows reflect the surroundings making art in themselves
There’s not a huge amount on display but I’ve always enjoyed the art of, inter alia, Nicholson, Hepworth. Lanyon and Heron so it was a nice diversion from cycling.
Onwards to Land’s End and turning the corner. There’s a big lump of granite that sits at the end of the south west peninsula and the poor cyclist has to endure a lot of ups and downs to reach the end point. I’ve visited Land’s end three times on a bike. Firstly when on holiday in the 80s , then when I started my LEJOG in 2015 and, finally when I completed my JOGLE in 2021. The whole place is a bit tacky but there weren’t too many people about today and I took a picture of the bike and sat down to a cup of tea and a pasty
The pasty was excellent, full of meat and veg and very good pastry but it stayed with me the whole day and I was till tasting it 4 hours later.
I still had half the journey to complete and continued on towards Mousehole, passing through Lamorna and climbing a very steep hill before zipping down to the little port.
The Lobster Pot restaurant is no longer, converted to flats 20 years ago and the Penlee lifeboat that suffered such a terrible disaster in December 1981 when all hands were lost whilst trying to save the crew of a stricken bulk carrier, has moved to nearby Newlyn.
The road from Mousehole to Newlyn, still a thriving sea port with a substantial fishing fleet and wet fish market,
is relatively flat and I made good time before coming up behind a traffic jam. I GOAPed for a short distance to get past the problem and then cycled the best part of 5 miles along a concrete cycle path round Mounts Bay. The path ran out at Marazion, home to St Michael’s Mount
cut off from the mainland by the tide. I continued, weaving through the narrow streets of the village and climbing the hill to Rosudgeon before, somewhat inadvisadly dropping steeply down to Praa Sands
Inadvisably because I had a very steep climb back again. 57 miles in I decided against going all the way back down to sea level at Porthleven and continued on the main road to Helston where I easily found the Blue Anchor pub and collected the keys to my room for the night. First night not in a Premier Inn or Wetherspoons. What will it hold?
