Vanity Has It Pleasures – The Land’s End Coaster (Cornwall Chronicles #21a)

Fate arrived in just three words, "open-topped bus." Those words were the very beginning of what would eventually become a ride by the seat of my pants while being buffeted by a brisk, bone chilling wind along the coast of Cornwall. Rapturous beauty would turn to misery. An open-topped bus sounds like a lark, an amusement park ride, a Ferris wheel on eight wheels, a methodical, merry go round journey, entertaining and eye catching. It would start that way, then descend from there into a deluge of raindrops and roads turned to near rivers. At the beginning, as at the end, would be the town of Penzance. The Spanish once burnt it to the ground. I now wonder how such a thing could have ever happened. I will forever equate Penzance not with the storms of history, but with a Saturday storm that turned a joyride into an act of endurance.

Fatal Attraction – Land of Imagination

My fate was sealed the moment “open-topped bus” was mentioned. The fatal sentence for the coming Saturday was rendered by a kindly and innocent woman at the Visit Truro Tourist Information Center. When I asked how one might see the remnants of Cornwall's famous mines that hugged the coastline, she mentioned the open-topped bus. This sounded intriguing. I was all ears as she went over the specifics. The bus would stop at specific points along the coastal highway. Each of which was near some natural or historical point of interest. I imagined small villages huddling in the heather as waves crashed into cliffs far below. Miracles or mirages appearing on the distant ocean. Was that the Isles of Scilly or Scylla and Charybdis rearing their fiendish heads on storm tossed seas? ?

The route promised history galore. My mother’s words of commendation for Poldark might even materialize along the way. She told me I had to watch Poldark. This would be even better because it was the real thing. If there was one thing I already knew about Cornwall, it was that the landscape is much more dramatic than anything that can be seen on screen. No wonder this was the most visited part of Britain. No wonder there was an open-topped bus transporting travelers along one of the wildest stretches of seaside anyone could imagine. I had already confirmed this through secondhand experience. On the front of my Rough Guide to Devon and Cornwall (2007, 3rd Edition) was a photo showing the ruins of a mine on a hillside sloping down to the sea. I could have cared less whether I saw the inside of a mine or not, but anything that came close to resembling that cover photo was a must see. I would never call myself a vain person, but taking into consideration the way I fell in love with that photo all I say is that vanity has its pleasures.

Fantasy Fiction – Setting Myself Up

There was another name for the open topped bus. One that was much more marketing oriented, but no less evocative. The Land's End Coaster rolled off the woman’s tongue prior to open-topped bus. I had fixated on the latter, rather than the former at first, because I was trying to wrap my mind around the enchanting idea of being exposed to the elements while being whisked around the coast of Cornwall. Once I (sort of) came to my senses, Land’s End made just as great an impression upon me. This was not some outdated nickname gamers had dreamed up. Instead, it was one of the premier stops on the open topped bus. The name sounded vaguely apocalyptic, as though a great truth would be revealed to those who came there by coaster. As if I needed another reason to spend a Saturday on the open-topped bus, Land’s End would provide it.

There was also the opportunity to stop at places that sounded like they came from the pages of fantasy fiction. St. Ives and St. Just, Geevor and Zennor. I had never heard of any of them before. Even now, over a month removed from that trip I still feel a fixation with each one. Or it might be more appropriate to say, I feel a certain kinship with each of those names. In my imagination they loom large. St. Ives and St. Just fill me with thoughts of yard gnomes, cobbled paths, and villagers destabilized by epic quantities of tea. Was this true? Do not deny a man his dreams. Geevor was home to one of Cornwall’s most famous historic mines. I like the name because it sounds like geezer, and I am sure whomever is reading this does too. Zennor sounds like somewhere that might be another galaxy in a world far, far away. I can still remember how the Land’s End Coaster sounded to me like the greatest thing ever invented by mankind. I set myself up for a massive letdown, but even that would turn out to be enjoyable.

Psychotherapy – A Significant Emotional Moment

I have never fallen in love on a Saturday, but there is a first time for everything. Near-salivating and positively smitten with the idea of the open-topped bus, I was losing control of my emotions. It has been said to never make decisions while you are emotional, in this case that was impossible. There was no need to investigate this any further, my mind was made up. While the woman continued to outline details of the journey, I was already so deep in my imagination that I was lost in a painful revelry. For the first time on this trip to Cornwall, I felt that yearning for something that I absolutely had to see. I knew this feeling all too well. It is what a psychotherapist might refer to as a significant emotional moment. The thought of not experiencing that moment filled me with fear. I wanted it so bad that it physically hurt thinking about it. I tried to push this fear away by reminding myself that of course I would ride the open-topped bus. There was no doubting it. It felt like the future was already here, all I had to do was follow it.