I have recently been reading about the Cornish stone circle Boskawen-un which I was able to research with the aid of Julian Cope's influential work The Modern Antiquarian (there is also a web-site inspired by the book).
However, it was while reading about The Merry Maidens, a nineteen-stone circle quite close to Boskawen-un, that I started thinking again about Lamorna.
September, some years ago (1990s) while I was still very much a Londoner I travelled with a dear friend to spend a week based in Penzance - though at that time I knew nothing of ancient stone circles. On a visit to Mousehole we attempted the cliff walk around the coastline to Lamorna. After a fairly arduous walk our destination came into view, we only had to negotiate a narrow bit of the cliff path to start our downward descent into the cove ... and a cup of tea. It was then that my dearest of all friends admitted he was terrified of heights. After trying to talk him round it became clear we couldn't go on and made our way back to Mousehole. I confess, to my shame, I was a bit grumpy by the time we arrived back Mousehole ... we had been caught in a sharp, slanting shower and were somewhat bedraggled.
The next day we caught a small bus from Moushole to Lamorna; I have managed to locate the written impressions of our visit, recorded on a scrap of paper ...
Lamorna Cove - Friday 17th September (a good wee while ago)
An exquisite perfect day, if this were to be the last day of my life I would want to take Lamorna Cove with me.
Water cascading down from the wooded shady hill-side falling over rocks into the sea.
The sea blue; the sky blue - a jewel in the crown of Cornwall. Peace and tranquility.
All the seas, all the rivers flow into each other - the connection of life. How can this help me get through life if this is not to be the last day, I must go back tomorrow to the stress and strife of London.
I will take this with me, the warmth of the sun, the sound of the water-fall, flowing into one - coming from one source and returning again. The air we breath, so clean here is the same air we breath in noisy, congested London.
Well, it seems I am still around, although sadly my dear friend Chris is not. I no longer live in London but in Swindon, Wiltshire. Earlier today, as I hurried along a busy road, Lamorna came back to haunt me. In between the sound of passing cars I could hear the gentle waves, on that peaceful September day, washing into Lamorna cove.
I must go back soon .... (to be continued)
