"...I could fill pages remembering one thing after another. All together made the summer at St. Ives the best beginning to life imaginable." --- Virginia Woolf
 |
| St. Ives |
 |
| Barbara Hepworth |
 |
| Barbara Hepworth |
Touted the 'Best UK Seaside Town' from the British Travel Awards in both 2010 and 2011, St Ives was incorporated by Royal Charter in 1639. It has become renowned for its number of local artists, most notably sculptor Barbara Hepworth whose studio and sculpture garden are a must-see. The Barbara Hepworth Museum and her sculpture garden are the responsibility of Tate St Ives. It was the wish of the late sculptor to leave her work on public display in perpetuity.
St Ives is situated on the shore of St Ives Bay, its harbour sheltered by Smeaton's pier. Close to the harbour, its streets are narrow and uneven while its wider streets are in the newer parts of the town on rising ground. We parked the car in a car park up a steep street and made our way down to the pier. The town has four beaches and because of its oceanic climate has some of the mildest winters and warmest summers in Britain making it a popular holiday destination for the Brits. Anyway, I did love this place...it was a happy place filled with young people, dogs and for some reason, lots of pregnant women!
Needless to say, it is an very special place and though I felt like a tourist, it was a place I wanted to return to, so I did. We decided to take one of the little boats to "Seal Island" which turned out to be a sunny and spectacular cruise along the beautiful coastline and though there weren't many seals, the ones that were there were delightful. Back on dry land we strolled along the promenade and ate a Cornish pasty, the local specialty. We meandered through the streets lined with little gift shops, bakeries, pasty shops and a butcher shop where we bought delicious lamb chops that we bbq'd for tea that night.
It has become our custom, call it a Holiday Habit, to stop in at a pub for a pint before going back to the cottage to cook dinner. On one such occasion I went to the bar and ordered a cider for Sue, a pint of Betty Stoggs for Terry, and a half pint for myself. The barman asked me if I was sure I only wanted a half to which I replied "go on then, I'll have a whole". I've been here long enough to know the lingo....a pint, I should have said. By the time I go home, I'll have it down and then will have to go back to saying....uh oh, what is it that we say in Canada? Now I'm really confused. Better quit drinking beer for a while!
