Cornish wintry waters.

Stepping out of a morning whilst the wintry masses sleep. Cold water waking the body with a spasm inducing rush.

The surf looks good, but you can really drag out the moments when the clothes are dropped and the bum exposed to a rasping wind. Taff in such a moment.

Drop Dead Fred after returning from the water, protocol is shunned. Speed here is your friend. Open doors and throw things, the seconds saved between dropping wetty and being engulfed in clothes are vital. Captain Oates last words as he walked from his Antarctic tent were "I may be gone some time."...the most manly thing I ever did hear...... It must have been colder than a dawny in January.

But days when Mexico's is empty, the tide is high and the wind from the south make it all worth while. The day in question a pod of Dolphins did the Lambada through the line up...I couldn't help but think I might migrate somewhere a bit warmer if I were them.....no doubt they were thinking the same.

El Bano, not entirely to the liking of all family members but none the less it's tolerated. Since moving to Cornwall, I've found it the only place I've lived in the UK where the whole community does take heed of the ocean and there is respect for those who celebrate it ardently. A sneaky south swell gains the attention of many who don't revel in Neptune's every move.

  I sometimes forget just how lucky we are to be English. England always seems like a place that is riddled with contradictions. It has swell and offshore winds...just not together much. England is so verdant that on a springs morning with the sun out and proud, it is the most beautiful spot on the planet, it's just more likely to be raining though, you have to earn those moments. The lucky couple pictured went for a wedding in December and were greeted by our coldest month on record. Gloucestershire never looked better.
                                                                                  

 My partner and I have a custom of never turning back when we're lost. You just never know what you might find.

Walking away from a new secret spot...... well... to us at least.  When the storms come in to Cornwall and all the different permutations of wind and swell directions ensue....it only seems right to have a gander at what might be possible....six years I've lived on Penwith and there is still food for thought.