So of course, for our first Valentine’s day as a marreeeed pair, I wanted to take my beau there for the weekend.
Where we stayed: Cormorant Cottage
Why romance is better without Rattler
I say we’re stupid because we don’t learn from our mistakes. We’re idiots. Why? Because Rattler. The devil’s juice. So delicious. So crisp, so much better than any other ciders. Not sippable – only gluggable. So evil. After half a pint we started shout-talking, by the end of the first pint I was ravenous for a second. We gleefully swilled down two pints laughing, talking nonsense and rocking about in our chairs before lurching home for our Marks & Spencers feast. So, so drunk. It is not romantic to be drunk, with slightly undercooked fish pie smeared down my top, dancing to Liberty X in front of the fire, while my dear husband passed out on the sofa. Rattler. It’s not the first time. It’s not even the fifth or sixth time things have gone wrong after Rattler.
The monstrous hangover I faced on Saturday morning threatened to derail the romance weekend further. The Peeb had also got confused about ‘no Valentines presents’ and thought that also meant ‘no cards’. It never means that. Valentine’s cards are the best card of the lot, especially when they include a hand written poem. (His did.) Moving on from that, we got our boots on and set out on the coast path right outside the front door and walked round to Lands End and on to Nanjizal or Mill Bay. Stunning. We saw a big grey seal just hanging out in the surf.
Monstrous hangover beaten by Bloody Mary
We turned inland, and found our way to The First and Last Inn because they were the only pub around showing the rugby. We arrived at 2:03pm so the “kitchen was closed”. We made lunch out of a Bloody Mary for me, a couple of rank pork pies and Dairylea slices (unexpectedly delicious) from Costcutter. And a bag of salty peanuts… Happy Valentine’s Day. Two good things happened in the pub: the Bloody Mary trounced my hangover and we won the game.
We headed back down to Sennen Cove, along the path opposite Costcutter, and cut across to come down over the huge dunes to the beach. Sprinting down a steep sandy path is the best fun: the fastest, most effort free, crazy-legged run down to the beach.
After our sunset walk and dog party, we stopped in the pub for a pint of Strongbow, then headed home to the cottage to watch The Bodyguard (my first time. Loved it). Having an open fire is so atmospheric – it crackles and pops and whumfs. And was bloody hot. Fantastic.
The weekend continued in this way, with the wind dropping and sun shining on us on Sunday. We sat on the beach being gently warmed by the rays in the morning, ate the pretty good carvery at the Old Success Inn, napped blissfully in the cottage, and listened to the sea breathing the Lion’s Breath. It was a beautiful weekend that felt like a proper holiday.