Who says country living has to mean wellies and shorts?! My absolute go-to item will always be the dress… even when trundling off to the beach via a precarious path that sometimes results in tripping and landing in a pile of stinging nettles. True story.
Unperturbed (that’s the country girl in me, innit) we battered on regardless and found ourselves on a surprisingly busy ‘secret’ beach. Okay, so which moron let the cat out of the bag? Seriously though, there are some pissed off Cornish peeps that would actually like to know – I guaranteed them I would not reveal the location of said place, lest it become even more crowded. Also, word of warning visitors – those cliffs you were chilling under? Yeah, prone to collapsing. Just sayin’. If I were you i’d be relaxing nearer the shore and not the wall of death.
I also read today (maybe it was Harpers Bazaar?) that Leith Clark (stylist extraordinaire) loves a good dress herself so I seem to be in excellent company on this one. Yes, you occasionally may compromise your dignity when climbing certain rambling paths, however, you will be able to move with more ease than in a pair of jeans… believe me, I’ve tried both and the dress wins every time. Or at least, until Autumn comes in earnest and I can no longer take the breeze.
Cooking with limited resources can be challenging but also so much fun. Getting back to basics has been one of the best things about this move and I’ve been loving my one-pot wonders and endless salad variations, so I thought I’d share a quick one with you…
We’re feeling a little more settled today, and have both miraculously managed to get some work done – hurrah! Not only that but the deposit on our previous London flat has just come through, which means we can begin the flat search in earnest… so exciting!!!
In lieu of a permanent abode though I thought a little exercise in camper van cooking would keep me busy in between articles for Hunger and strolls to the beach. It’s a hard life, I know. Can you tell I’m more chipper today? Things are starting to fall into place so who can be unhappy about that. Onwards.
p.s. the maple syrup seen here was the sweetest gift given to us by our wonderful friends from across the pond who came and stayed with us for a few days last week. It’s seriously incredible stuff and the absolute perfect sweet to my sour in this simple but tasty dish. Enjoy!
Sweet ‘n’ Sour Slaw
1/4 red cabbage finely sliced
1 carrot grated or peeled
1/4 cup pickled beetroot, finely sliced
handful of pumpkin seeds
coarse sea salt (Cornish Sea Salt is the ultimate – trust me)
ground black pepper
1 tbsp good quality maple syrup
1 tbsp of the pickled beetroot vinegar
1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
Toss, season, serve…. that simple.
and in case you are wondering about the potato salad. it was simply boiled potatoes, cooled and tossed with sea salt, hummous, chives and a little olive oil…. delish.
Fresh starts are a mixture of exciting possibilities and the promise of all things new coupled with sheer unadulterated terror and brief moments of ‘what the hell have we done?’ For me this journey, which is only in its infancy, has already been a whirlwind of happenings that have involved old friends dropping in for some Cornish R&R, reconnecting with family whilst they kindly put up with our flat hunting by letting us take over their awesome camper van (a million, billion thanks) and a whole host of other events that also include my baby Sister becoming a Celtic Woman (US peeps will be aware of this group whereas my British readers will undoubtedly be scratching their heads)…
and all of this within the space of a week. Er, yeah.
We’ve been able to soak up the last remaining Cornish sun (bliss) but at the same remain mildly panicked about our work situations (my Husband has too much whereas I have too little) – so it’s been an odd introduction to our new life to say the least. Even as I write this I feel ever so slightly overwhelmed by the whole situation but am trying to play it cool, hoping all the pieces will fall into place soon. Obviously getting our own place will be a big step towards fully settling into our new coastal existence, and I can’t help but feel the lack of routine has been a huge factor in us being a bit all over the place mentally and emotionally. You’d think we’d be pros at this moving malarkey at this stage given our crazy nomadic history but because this was such a deliberate decision there’s a lot more riding on our happiness… we’ll get there, I’m sure, but in the meantime please excuse me if I occasionally fall apart and use this space to vent/scream/cry a little.
Here are few titbits to tide you (me) over until my next post that will, I promise, be more worthy of your eyes and ears. New beginnings, don’t you just love ’em!
Oh, and did I mention it is ridiculously breathtakingly beautiful here, the produce is out of this world and we haven’t eaten so well in months, as well as being the perfect antidote to almost fifteen years of stressful city life? In summation I have absolutely nothing to complain about… and yet that little thing called fear always has a way of rearing its ugly-ass head – but I guess it would be less of an adventure without it. To be very much contd…
That’s right folks, the countdown has officially begun to our departure to Cornwall (this is getting real, yo!). Our new life is almost within our grasp but even still it feels like an age away… two work weeks, one weekend and we’ll be hitting the road and leaving our London life behind, and it can’t come soon enough.
In preparation for our future Cornish existence we’ve bought ourselves a little car and have been making good use of it already – not having to lug shopping home from the supermarket has been a total luxury, let me tell you. Whilst we would never have kept a vehicle in London (there’s just no point), Cornwall is so sprawling it’s difficult to exist without one. Of course, it gives us somewhat of a heavier carbon footprint but we’ll try our best to balance it out by other lifestyle choices more in keeping with our ethics.
We can’t deny we love a good rove in the car and yesterday decided to take Roger (yes, we have given the hunk of metal a rather dubious name) to the woods… Petts Wood to be exact, which is a lovely spot in South East London. Although we had thought of making a day of it and heading to Brighton, we decided to stay more local because of an engagement party in the evening.
Another glorious summer’s day meant we strolled and meandered for maybe a wee bit too long leaving us late for the party – oops. I decided to wrap my hair up in a turban style thingy using a scarf I purchased in India a number of years back. The eighties bat wing top is another old buy that I rarely, if ever, wear – sometimes I like to hang onto things just in case I get the urge to shake it up a bit. I’m a sucker for comfort so I mostly choose outfits now based on their practicality factor although I often fear it may be a slippery slope to track pants and tees… not really but you never know!
what i’m wearing… pink 80’s top/vintage… 70’s sunglasses and polka dot midi-skirt/charity shop… headscarf/India… sandals/dorothy perkins