Lost in Cornwall

Well that serves me right, I was so smug about not having to look at schools this time as 4 year old Malakai would obviously go to the same Lewes school as his 9 year old brother Kieran. Well so much for that, in my bid to find the right Cornish school for the boys I have looked at 5 schools and 2 nurseries (for 3 year old Chloe in 24 hours), not to mention interviewing every parent I could find as I loitered at school gates at pick up and drop off (thanks to Kristen and Stuart for that piece of advice). So the deed has been done, schools looked at, decisions made (partly based on the news that basically none of the schools have places except the local village school) and forms have been filled in and hand delivered before racing back to the airport to fly home again. And all of this done in a hire car based on my own sense of direction – for those of you who know me well, you will know that racing around Cornwall in someone else’s car is a huge achievement for me in itself, I feel like I have got to know Cornwall on my own terms in the last 24 hours and the best thing about getting lost? You find some great places along the way.

In my spare time, I have also managed to take a few numbers, visit a lovely lady who I met in the playground yesterday only to find that her husband has known Mark for years – they moved to Crantock 8 months ago, and bump into a girl we met on the beach 15 years ago and asked to model for Plain Lazy when we were first starting out, luckily for me (and her) she hadn’t changed and luckily for Kieran she has a 9 year old son. So numbers duly swapped and everything was looking rosy, well it was until I lost my phone along with the many useful contacts I had made. Then of course there was the zumba and yoga classes I had found for me and the cubs group I had found for Kieran. Not to mention the possible house I viewed as a stop gap when we first arrive. Phew.

In between all this I took a couple of walks on Crantock beach and across the breathtaking National Trust Common to remind myself why I was running around like a headless chicken. A moment to breath ,(and I am convinced that one deep breath in Cornwall is worth several deep breaths anywhere else) and smile at the view and start to nurture the seeds of an idea I have (more on that at a future date) but soon the smile turns to tears and I remember all that we will leave behind and I wonder if I am mad or just a little bit crazy.

The last 48 hours have been a rollercoaster ride and I know that it is just beginning But the images I return with are those of rolling coutryside and coast line and of theold man with the wild hair and the longest yellow macintosh I have ever seen, coming out of the woods with his pockets bulging and 2 carrier bags overflowing with food he had been foraging in the forests, looking a little bit lost but with a sense of purpose and I sort of knew how he felt…

(Please note this was written on the 6th May on flight home, it just took me a while to set up blog)