Fowey (pronounced Foy)

We left our cottage in Pelynt (pronounced Plynt) at a reasonable hour on Sunday morning and drove to the car park at the top of Polruan, so as to walk into the village and get the little passenger ferry across to Fowey. A steep walk down the hill brought us to an interesting little harbour which was a mixture of working fishing boats, some hauled out for maintenance, pleasure craft and the small ferries which take up to about 20 people (and their dogs) across the river.

There was a pub on the quayside and a tourist nick-naks shop. And that was about it. Pretty unspoiled, I’d say.

Fowey itself is much busier and full of people on a Sunday morning. A pretty place with very narrow streets, from which they should really try to exclude more cars, it had a bustle and a proper working feel to it. But with money attached.

For example, it costs hundreds of pounds a month to leave your little boat tied up on the river. There are fancy shops, as well as touristy ones and it is clearly a place where people from London spend long weekends. This money clearly skews the economy, as it does all over the West Country. House prices are ridiculous here, for example.

Still, the locals were friendly and even managed to sell me a pair of shorts and a new pair of deck shoes. So they must know what they’re doing…

Returned to the cottage via some of the narrowest roads in Britain, via a lovely quiet little hamlet of Lerryn.

Oh yes, the hay fever is something else this year, down here…

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