Mousehole

The tiny fishing village of Mousehole (pronounced "mao-zil") was a truly unexpected delight. Located a few short miles along the coast from bustling Penzance, this sleepy corner of Cornwall has carefully preserved much of its original character. Most of its homes are built from local granite, nestled in a series of narrow, twisting cobblestone lanes that hug the rocky seafront.


In the centre of the town sits a sheltered harbor, protected from the sea by two towering sea walls. Historical records reference a port here as early as 1266. Even today part of the south quay can trace its origin to 1390. In the early years of Christianity in Britian it was the embarkation point for pilgrims heading to Rome. As you’d expect, fishing was Mousehole’s primary industry for centuries. A small fishing fleet still operates today. However, given its picturesque setting, its modern economy thrives more on second home ownership and tourism.


During the winter months, sturdy wooden beams close off the harbour entrance, protecting the village from the worst of the winter storms. However, this is no ordinary port. On the afternoon of our arrival we discovered, much to our surprise, that low tide eventually drains the entire harbour leaving boats stranded on its sandy bottom. Some boats even have special stilts, extended from slots in the hull, to keep them upright until the water returns.


Garry and I stopped for a night, sleeping in an old building that once housed the area’s coastguard quarters. We spent a soul-restoring afternoon wandering Mousehole’s quiet cobbled streets before downing local ale at an old stone pub on the harbourfront. Later I wandered out to the end of the seawall where St Clement's Isle - a small rocky islet – is visible. I've read that an old hermit once made this desolate place his home.


Earlier in day we’d driven south from St Austell, stopping briefly on the shores of Marizon to marvel at St Micheal’s Mount. This iconic island rises gracefully from Penzance Bay, capped by an abbey and castle on it summit. It was originally built as a complimentary site to the tidal island of Le Mont-Saint-Michel, directly across the English Channel in Normandy.


Much like its French counterpart, St Michael’s Mount has been an important pilgrimage destination throughout the ages. Such devotions were encouraged by an indulgence granted by Pope Gregory in the 11th century. From here the first warning beacons were lit in 1588, warning Southern England of the approaching Spanish Armada.


The island is accessible by foot along an old causeway at low tide, or by boat when the tide peaks. I timed our arrival to coincide with high tide. I’d seen images of the island surrounded by water and was keen to capture my own postcard moment. Sadly, the weather was rather bleak, with a bitter wind and heavy cloud. However, as you can see, the island is still mesmerizing.