Sixteen Wind Turbines E-Book

Geoffrey Peyton

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Lebensstil
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Beschreibung

The memoirs of my first trip to Cornwall in over forty years, and the first ever to the North Cornish Coast. It was here that I finally found where heaven was. Like so many prairielands in the UK, Cornwall is not short of paradise for the hardened rambler.

Leseprobe

Geoffrey Peyton

Sixteen Wind Turbines

Crystal seas, blase prairielands, and......

To all the people who have suffered the floods of 2014, and all the work they will put in to repair the damage, just for my revisiting there later in the year, Good luck folks.BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 Munich

Crystal seas, blase prairielands, and sixteen wind turbines

A vast majority of Cornish yokels did not speak a word of English proceeding the Tudor era. King Henry VIII sent a few of his hoppo’s along in an attempt to try and convince the peaceful folk of the South West to learn the King’s tongue, or else. Over four thousand people protested peacefully against the abolishment at the use of the Celtic tongue and the compulsory intervention of Henry’s lip. The Duke of Somerset, Edward Seymour, truncated his visit there, jumped upon his horse and trotted back to Hampton Court to inform the good King of his failure in cajolery and the gentle refusal by the Cornish squire for his invite to learn the English language prompt. So ‘H’ sent Mr Seymour back to Cornwall (or Kernowek as the locals liked to call it), this time with a handy bunch of hatchet wielding maniacs, and consequently slaughtered the pacifistic partitionists. After a recount of men and stock by the good folk of Kernowek, a very, very short discussion on the matter took place, and it was decided that English would be a welcomed language to learn after all.

So with that minor disagreement sorted out, the spread of the English language spread across the Cornish land as fast as the scarpering antics of Acme’s Beep-Beep Coyote. And here the ‘Prayer Book Rebellion’ became the turning point for Cornwall to finally become a part of England.

The Brittonic of Cornish disappeared forever (or so it seemed) during the latter part of the 18th century. At the turn of the 20th century however, Henry Jenner, a Celtic language enthusiast from St Columb Major, near Padstow, tried to revive the disappearing Celtic lingo and give it back to Cornwall, and over the last three decades or so it is now practiced in schools across the county, and there is even a daily news broadcast on BBC Cornwall that is spoken solely in Cornish.

So by the mid 21st century, Cornish folk could well be muttering xenophobic mutterings to the non understanding tourist such as myself, where I could easily think that piss off in Cornish was a hearty greeting.

But all that palaver will be thoroughly practiced well after I have had my sleeping finale. I am only here for a week, so let’s see what Henry VIII’s 1546 manifesto has brought to the Cornish table.

A seven day stay at what is described on the internet as an exotic location only two miles off the north coast of Cornwall, and not far from Rick Stein’s Padstow, will be my HQ for this period of time.

“The small but quaint village of St Merryn with its countryside views of outstanding beauty will want you to return again and again”, so the internet says.

Well we will have to see about that.

For the time being, I am just glad to be rid of employment slavery for a whole week, and away from the disgraceful scenes of looting and violence that have hampered the good folk of Birmingham during the week prior to my arrival here. It is going to be a week from the rat race, and so with concubine once again it toe, it’s off to the coast we go.