The long, long road to Penzance

We left Bath early this morning to head south to Penzance. In what most would consider a ridiculous plan, we took the train back to London and then caught the 12:06 to Penzance. The rationale was that it would be easier than taking a train from Bath to Penzance, as all the routes appeared to involve two train changes. With our many bags, we didn't fancy any more train changes than absolutely necessary. With our railpasses, there was no extra cost involved. However, it made for a long day, with an hour and a half on the train from Bath to London, an hour and a half waiting at Paddington Station, then a five-hour trip to Penzance—literally, a full day's travel!

The wait at Paddington wasn't quite as tedious as I expected. With a number of shops, food venues, and even a Starbucks, Paddington Station is a little city unto itself. I amused myself by getting a latte at Starbucks, then picking out sandwiches at the Marks & Spencer food shop to take on the train for our lunch. (Someday I am going to write an entire post on the vast, delicious variety of ready-made sandwiches for sale in England!)

Fortunately, we had made advance seat reservations for the train, as even the first class carriages were fuller than I had seen them. We were able to claim a full four-seat section (three of which were our reserved seats), and my father wandered to the next carriage where he found an unoccupied seat block for himself (we all like to have our space).

The train trip from London to Penzance is quite scenic, through countryside as well as along water. We entertained ourselves by alternating between reading, watching the view, napping, eating our sandwiches, and scoring free diet coke and water from the buffet cart.

Penzance is a seaside town, with a picturesque harbor and steep cobbled streets. Our hotel, the Abbey Hotel, is tucked into one of those streets about the harbor (Abbey Street) and may possibly be a former abbey—at least it has some very churchy-shaped windows! It's now painted a bright Wedgwood blue on the outside and decorated in other vibrant tones. The owner is former '60's model Jean Shrimpton, but her son manages it (so we learned from the chatty assistant manager, Ben).

It's just reopened this month after being closed for renovations. We're staying in “the Suite,” an apartment with an entrance separate from the main hotel building. We have two double bedrooms, a large bathroom, and a very large sitting room with a down-filled sofa and chairs, a big wooden dining table,and a spectacular harbor view. Plus, satellite or cable TV (whatever it takes to get more than four channels). Of course all those channels are hardly a benefit when I have no idea what is on. I've been doing a little channel flipping and have yet to get exceptionally excited—sort of like the channels at home. Hey! I just found Friends! (Also like the channels at home.)

We went to dinner at a rather nice restaurant called the Bakehouse. At first I was very dubious (some might say pissy) because the décor was too nice and the menu seemed too fussy for my taste (my travel taste, which tends to cheap and simple, at least in England). But we stuck it out and I must say the result was a pleasant surprise. They had an early bird menu, from which you can choose either a starter and entree, or entree and pudding (dessert) for a set price of £12. The entree selections were a bit too creamy and carby for my taste, but I settled on smoked mackerel fillets with salad and mustard mash (mashed potatoes, yes, but it's a set menu—what can you do?). And it was really good. Very generous portions, two large pieces of smoky fish and a good-sized scoop of tangy potatoes.

Then we all had dessert as our second course. I am somewhat ashamed to say (considering my criticism of the creamy entrees) that I ordered the ice cream topped with clotted cream. I must add, however, that the meringue with berries and cream that my mother ordered had a much larger dollop of clotted cream on it! (My dad also had the ice cream.) Both puddings were quite delicious.

I'm surprisingly tired for a day in which I did little more than sit on a train. Tired, and kind of full of clotted cream. Once again, the wireless signal is not strong enough to receive in our room, so I am sitting on a chair across from the reception desk, in the rather drafty entry hall to the hotel, not having bothered to bring a coat! The sacrifices I make! I am counting the moments till I am back to our cozy sitting room (and, er, the TV....).

I am too tired to post any more pictures here, but you can see some scenery pictures taken from the train, and some pictures of our hotel "suite," by clicking here.