Starting With Regrets – Land’s End Coaster Vs. St. Michael’s Mount (Cornwall Chronicles #21b)

On my recent trip to Poland, I spent quite a bit of time talking with my travel companion about our different experiences traveling abroad. One of our more memorable conversations concerned people’s tolerance for pushing on beyond exhaustion while traveling. ?Both of us are so infatuated with history, that we can ignore bodily aches and the endless irritations that arise during foreign travel to keep a schedule that goes from just after dawn all the way up until dusk. The alternative is unthinkable. Traveling halfway around the world to sit in a hotel room would be an insipid experience, not to mention a huge waste of time and money. And yet it happens.

Day of Destiny - All The Wrong Places

My friend told me a story about an earlier trip with another friend and their family in France. Teenagers were involved, which can always be a trying experience. In this case, the teens had decided they would rather not see France and holed up in their hotel room for most of the trip. Their parents were strangely indifferent to this petulance and allowed them to do as they pleased. Perhaps that had something to do with one of the adult members of the family and their inability to cope with the demands of foreign travel. My companion mentioned that one late afternoon they were within sight of Mont San Michel. It had been a long and exhausting day of travel, but there was still enough time left to see one of the most iconic sites in Europe. One family member was vociferously against it. They would rather go back to the hotel for an early dinner and then retire for the evening. Their argument won the day. My companion was still disgusted with that decision several decades later.

I thought of him, as the train from Truro came into Penzance. Off in the distance, I could see St. Michael’s Mount, the British version of Mont San Michel. It was a stunning site, one that I would not get to see up close on this day trip. Like my friend who had gazed longingly at Mont San Michel from afar, I too was doing the same thing. Unlike him, I had more control over whether to visit. It was not exhaustion that would keep me from scaling St. Michael’s Mount. Instead, it was a fixation with the journey already planned for the day. The itinerary had already been set. This was a day of destiny to explore a wild stretch of the South Cornwall coastline. There was no going back. Nevertheless, I could not gaze up at St. Michael’s Mount without thinking of how my friend still regretted not being able to visit Mont San Michel. Like him, I knew that seeing is not the same as experiencing. It is one thing to say that you saw an iconic place from a distance, quite another to experience in intimate fashion. I knew that one day I would regret not going to visit St. Michael’s Mount, I never thought that it would be on this day.

A New Frontier - The Worst of Both Worlds

The weather forecast threatened rain. This was nothing new for Cornwall. Weather is always a wildcard in England. It is only more so in Cornwall. I had been lucky with the weather so far. That was about to drastically change. As the clouds began to pile up It was obvious that the weather was not going to cooperate. At best, the day would be gloomy, at worst there would be torrential downpours. Anyone taking the Land’s End Coaster on this day was in for the worst of both worlds. Just how bad it might get was not yet apparent. There were ominous signs that the worst might be yet to come. Clouds were already hovering above Penzance as the train from Truro covered the final stretch of the Great Western Railway. It suddenly felt like I was a million miles away from London. Penzance is actually 307 miles (494 kilometers) away from London, which by the standards of Great Britain is pretty much the other end of the earth.

It felt like I had arrived on the edge of a frontier, a cultured and well-kept one, but nonetheless a frontier. Penzance was a jumping off point for some of the remotest places in Britain. It was both literally and figuratively at the end of the line. The railroad was Penzance’s link to the wider world of England. While Penzance was a link for those looking to explore the Isles of Scilly and Penwith Peninsula. Just like St. Michael’s Mount, the Isles of Scilly, would have to wait for a future trip. They are worth separate trip in their own right, but not on this one. I was determined to see the Penwith Peninsula by open-topped bus. The latter might sound like a novelty, but to me it was a necessity.

Bound & Determined – A Singular Ambition

My mind was focused on the forthcoming journey that would soon begin on the Land’s End Coaster. Because of the number of sights along the way, there would be no time for doing anything else on this day. I had my heart set on the Land’s End Coaster the moment I learned about it at the Tourist Information center in Truro. The self-imposed two day wait to take the Land’s End Coaster had been excruciating. I have always been prone to impatience and age has only served to make it worse. I was on a mission of the open-topped bus or bust. Penzance and the area surrounding it would be sacrificed on the altar of a singular ambition.

I did not quite know what I was getting into. That is always a recipe for adventure. On this day, I thanked myself that the Land’s End Coaster was still running. Unlike in summer, the bus only runs on certain days in the shoulder season. The reason for that was clear every time I looked at the clouds growing in the sky. Perpetual gloom was the best that could be expected. The always unpredictable weather in the southwestern extremities of Cornwall worsens with each day beyond the summer. That did not keep people away. ?I noticed a small crowd filing into the bus. I was soon joining them.