On my day off, last Friday, I decided that I would visit a place I hadn't been to since I was a child. As a family we used to spend a lot of time, or so it seemed, in Cornwall. This was before the motorways and link roads and it used to take hours to get there. Now, a couple of hours after leaving home, I was parking my car in the small North Cornish village of Tintagel. It had been quite a foggy drive down out of Somerset, through Devon and into Cornwall, and it was only after I passed the town of Launceston that things cleared enough for the sun to peek through.
As I began to walk from the village to the ruined medieval castle, the reason for my visit, it was glorious sunshine. Then I turned a corner in the path and there was a wall of thick sea mist in front of me. When I got to the ticket office everything was totally engulfed. I began to wonder if I would actually see anything at all. I could hear the sea and, even though I was standing right beside it I couldn't see a thing.
The castle comes in two halves. Part of it is on the mainland and the other part is on a small island joined by a little bridge. The island has high, sheer cliffs and the steps leading up to the castle are steep and plentiful.
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