Made tea from PG Tips. It was wonderful to dive into the bubbles and get warm. The room is nice: two double beds, big window, fireplace facing the beds, wonderful big – echoing – bathroom, huge closet, big armoire housing a huge tv, and best of all, lots of alcohol & food in the mini fridge! We both swallowed, and putting the car in reverse, backed and swung around towards the freeway again. He: dark brown hair, taller than she, slender, dressed in a dark suit, friendly- and good-good looking. I’ll have to make you girls out a ticket. The guys were pretty mellow; nothing like a couple of joints to make you unaware of the miles of space between you and the Canyon floor. It was absolutely incredible yoghurt! Not a color to be seen. And the bread – and the Cornish butter – a deep, rich yellow with flavor unlike anything over here in the States (at least anything I’ve eaten). We made it just before the final bell: the chicken was cold and the ribs were greasy, but all tasted like ambrosia. The rim of the Canyon was incredible. Half pints were ordered. Talk about yummy! Streams crossed our path, across which we leapt from stone to stone, or boulder to boulder, or we inched across tiny wooden bridges – all slippery and wobbly. After dinner, a couple next to us passes over a half bottle of red wine they couldn’t finish – she is from Thailand, he from Virginia. The gardens house all sorts of herbs and flowers, most of which, of course, were not in bloom at this time of year. Did he think we were neophytes here? Now how nice a way is that of completing the trip! Besides the sculptured grounds, all was green…green, green grass, surrounded by woods, mountains, and the silvery-gray, entrancing loch. That night we ate in the village of Cong: Again, fish & chips…Nothing like ’em (good, I mean!). I also realized, almost from the moment of stepping foot out of the alley doorway, that I didn’t have a clue which door I stepped out of !! At first glance, Land’s End was not appealing, as it was fronted by a huge whitewashed “castle” backed by booths, rides and whatnot. She: tall, extremely slender, straight shoulder length (or longer) blonde hair, a figure to die for, and a very sweet smile. A flashback to the great Tony Campolo. Then we looked to the British Airways site, and all seemed to be in order. This heat wave is unprecedented. Once she found her seat, she proceeded to take out her cell phone and start another conversation at the top of her lungs. Under the now lowering English sky, we saw the meandering river crossed by stone bridges, and the charming cottages surrounding it. It was still raining steadily, and it was cold. We were surrounded by the loch on one side, mountains and hills and quiet land on other sides. The road sped past and the air was clear. Time for evening cocktails! I kept thinking of “The Last of the Mohicans” and wondering how on earth Cora raced up those mountains in that long dress and flats! I was so happy. We drove by The Brown Derby, which by this time had started to lose its cachet, and gazed at Schwab’s Drugstore where Lana Turner was discovered. Pheasants ran through the underbrush – it was absolutely idyllic, one of our most beautiful and peaceful days. And so to Portofino, lit by the gold of the Italian sunlight.

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