From the 17th century until fairly recently, tin was mined in Cornwall. Wherever there are mines in the world, the descendants of Cornish miners will be found. They were some of the very best and most experienced.

On a fine afternoon during our week's stay in Cornwall, we visited the mines at Botallack. From the cliff top, where chimney stacks and tin dressing floors can still be seen, we looked down on the remains of the Crowns engine houses.

Far below we could see and hear the sea rushing against the rocks and flowing back.

A diagonal shaft was sunk here in 1858-62, reaching far under the water and endangering the lives of the men who worked there under terribly difficult conditions.

A plaque on one of the engine house walls records the mine's history:

CROWNS ENGINE HOUSES BOTALLACK MINE - Worked before 1721 and closed in 1914. Lower pumping house was built in 1830's and upper winding house Pearce's in 1858. Preserved 1984 by Carn Brea Mining Society with the help of many individuals and authorities as a tribute to past generations of Cornish miners

On such a perfect day, it was difficult to imagine the horror of several accidents that happened here, due partly to the force of the sea and the weather but also to the mismanagement and negligence of those in charge.

There are sea pinks growing where men toiled up and down with loads of ore. We could hear only jackdaws and gulls and the sounds of waves breaking over the rocks.

Arsenic was mined and finished in Botallack's refining works. On the cliff top are flues and a double-bayed labyrinth in this historic area owned by the National Trust.

The old Count-house is further along the cliff. Accounts were kept  and the miners were paid here. Dinners were held for investors and managers on pay-out days. The restored buildings are used by the National Trust as their warden's base and exhibition area. A programme of events includes an annual steam fair, mining history talks, guided walks, exhibitions, workshops and cliff-top drama.

I am amazed and very pleased to discover that I placed myself in precisely the same spot to take my photograph as did the photographer in 1908.

The small museum has several exhibits recounting many of the disasters which occurred in the mines here (Botallack is part of the St Just Mines).

'The scene of the most terrible calamity in the annals of Cornish mining ' in 1893. Raising the brass panels with their lists of men who lost their lives, you can read old newspaper accounts of that period. '19 men and a boy drowned ' makes distressing reading. Children were employed in those days.

We drove along to Cape Cornwall, a far south-westerly point on the coast, also owned by the National Trust.

Once a Bronze Age burial site and used since Roman times, all that remains is a sentinel at the highest point and the ruined St Helen's Oratory in a dip in the fields.

And for those brave enough, there is a tiny sea-water swimming pool at the base of the cliffs.

Our journey to Cornwall began on a grey day at the end of May. We drove from the Centre of France to the north coast and took the ferry to Plymouth from Roscoff. I have calculated that in the past eleven years we have made the trip 23 times.



The sea along the Finistère coast was flat and grey. After a long spell of hot weather, the chilly wind was unseasonal.





We explored the narrow streets of a couple of villages en route to Roscoff.



At St Pol de Léon, where we ate our fish supper, we found a quiet garden with this sculpture by Roger Joncourt: Celui qui regarde passer les autres - he who watches the others pass by.



The town houses are all built from granite. Some have stood against the battering of sea winds since the 11th century.







At Roscoff, we climbed to the rugged 17th century Chapelle Ste-Barbe which overlooks the harbour and is still a landmark for sailors.



From this vantage point, we watched our ferry approach from England. By 11 o'c we were tucked up in our cabin for the night crossing.



Very early next morning we reached the Tamar bridge and crossed into Cornwall. The weather was no better than on the French side. You can see the rain spots on the car windscreen as I hastily clicked this photo.

Cornwall's coat of arms represents a seaman, a tin miner and a chough, Cornwall's native bird, once extinct but now thriving on her coast. Fishing and mining were important industries in the past but fish stocks are reduced and all Cornwall's mines are closed. Tourism is the major 'industry' but this beautiful county remains one of the poorest in Britain.

          

We braved the weather and went for a day's outing with Chris and Christopher, beginning with lunch at the Logan Rock pub in the village of Treen.

               

Then we went out to see the famous landmark, a rocking stone which has inspired many legends. Part of the supporting cliff was dislodged recently, probably during a storm. I took several photographs in the rain while the Atlantic rolled onto Pednvounder Beach below and Chris and Hugh discussed the price of fish (I'm guessing!).

         

I love Treen. We used to camp here ages ago in a very quiet farm camp site, then walk along the cliff path to go down to the sea to fish. There is a tiny tea room run by two lovely welcoming ladies. One of them even came out to polish the window for my photograph! Look at the notice - sunny weather was forecast for the next day, Easter Sunday, and there were cakes and scones and clotted cream in preparation. I hope they had lots of visitors and sold all their home-made produce.

         

Just along the lane from the tea room is a farm whose outbuildings are listed. This fine old stone construction is now a hen house. The eggs are organic, the farmer assured us. The hens certainly looked well cared for. At the sound of our voices they came running towards us like little girls - it was feeding time.

We drove round to Sennen Cove, popular with surfers and famous for its lifeboat station. In spite of the intense cold people were walking, paddling and surfing on the wide sands. We had our hoods up and felt like wimps!

         

The RNLI lifeboat station has a proud history of service at sea. Their website is updated daily with news of rescues and a photograph each day of the bay. We looked at the lists of calls and lives saved. There were exhibits from ships and yachts which have been assisted by the men of the Royal National Lifeboat Institution, some of the bravest in all Cornwall.

         

I spotted this cheerful little boy on the beach dressed only in swimming trunks and a jumper. Those bare legs obviously didn't feel the biting cold - or perhaps he didn't mind, he was so determined to enjoy the seaside. Mother sensibly wore boots and a mac with a hood!

As for us, we went home to tea and cake in the warm farmhouse kitchen.

Click on the pics!

We've spent a week in Cornwall, visiting our children and staying with our friends Chris and Chris Gregson on their farm. Tresamble farmhouse is the best hotel we know!

We experienced weather of every kind: hail storms, light snow, forceful winds and wonderful mellow sunshine. Cornwall is famous for the quality of its light, intensifying the colours of the cliffs and the sea. Only St Ives disappointed. It was impossible to see the sea through the thick mist but in spite of this, several people were determined to spend a day on the beach.

We walked with some of our children and two of our granddaughters over the cliffs at Hell's Mouth and had lunch in a wine bar in Penzance. I could happily have stayed for weeks.