Two more castles -- King Arthur and Cadbury Eggs.

Yes, yes, our gigs have been great, but let's talk castles! The first week passed uneventfully in the world of castle collecting -- sad to see those brown road signs fly by without time for even a photo. Saturday in Falmouth we had most of the day to ourselves, as we didn't have a long drive to the gig. Taking alone time is super-important when you're on the road with another person, particularly when both people touring are only children, ergo used to having a bit of space.

While Kirsty opted for a walk on the beach (which I'm sure was lovely), I needed a walk through the city. Beaches are nice, but when choosing a vacation, I always choose city over beach. I love getting to know a new place, seeing the people, the architecture, the cafes, and the cobblestones. Falmouth was a good town for that. Of course, one Google search later, I discovered there was a castle built by none other than Henry VIII (picture him laying stones and mortar while eating a chicken leg and playing the lyre -- what a talent!): Pendennis Castle.

I was a bit concerned that Pendennis Castle might be a bit stuffy like the Pendennis Club (a Louisville institution where the Old Fashioned cocktail was invented, you're welcome for that bit of trivia). Historically, that club hasn't been a deep sympathizer of minorities (historically, folks, not present-day!), so I didn't mention my half-blood condition when I bought my admission ticket to the Castle. You know, just in case. I was able to use my Historic Scotland membership card for half-price entry, yet again proving its value.

By the time I hiked to the top of the hill -- castles are always on a hill -- I was ready for a cup of tea in the warm Cornwall sunshine. Glorious. There was a wide green lawn, squint-worthy sunbeams, a cup of tea, a Cadbury egg ('tis the season), and a castle!

A few days later, during the drive from Penzance to Glastonbury, we took a detour down some mysterious roads to Tintagel Castle on the north coast of Cornwall. Tintagel is the legendary birthplace of King Arthur, and whatever truth there is (there's always some truth to legend) certainly made itself known. The ruins of the castle itself are on a small cliff of an island, accessed only by steep wooden and stone stairs. Just getting to the stairs requires a hearty hike, but we were up for the task. Of course, the island/castle was closed (because that seems to be how things are going this tour), but the views were spectacular. The mist rose and fell as if by magic, and the castle walls passed through them as they came and went.




There are loads more adventures to record, but my wifi time is always so limited on tour. Maybe it's time to write that book.