Jack and the Giant

St Michael’s Mount

When darkness fell, Cormoran, a massive giant waded through the water to raid the surrounding farms for sheep and cattle to satisfy his huge appetite. Puts a new spin on takeaway!

I was driving along a quiet country road when something made me stop the car; a castle out at sea swirling in the mist. It was a ‘my goodness me – what is that moment’. I hit the ‘points of interest near me’ section of the trusty GPS and it said that St Michael’s Mount was 5km away – it seemed to be pointing in the right direction so drove toward the rock coming out of the sea with a sense that I was caught in some Lord of the Rings fantasy. Drive into the pretty, ancient market town and the castle on the rock was closer. I needed to catch a small boat to the island across the beautiful bay. Marazion goes back to the 1200s and is ringed by the stone chimneys of the Cornwall mines.  The myriad of Cornish churches, as in all small villages, but the surrounding fields the home of pagan stone circles. The Island off Marazion has the legend of a giant, slain by a young boy Jack. Today, the castle is the home of the St Aubyn family, complete with family photos with Charles and Camilla in the blue room. The sea bound castle has a walkway that has attracted pilgrims for many centuries to walk across water. The walkway was submerged with the tides when I visited but the boat ride with the dog at the helm was atmospheric. The climb over heart shaped cobblestones, past the massive stone heart of the giant was strenuous; a climb up, that again made me think of grocery deliveries.

Back to St Ives and a guided walk to hear the history of the fishing industry, the mines and Cornish pasties. The guide talked about the places the miners went to teach others their trade and Eaglehawk near Bendigo got a mention.

My night with the totally eccentric Shanty Baba made me once again running back to The Loft terrified that the ghosts would get me. Standing on the windy hills above the crashing waves in the pitch black at 11pm surrounded by gravestones was not for the faint hearted. Just imagine my reaction to the story of giant rats dragging bodies from coffins into underground tunnels that criss cross the graveyard or the man who betrayed the smugglers and was caught, wrapped as a mummy, had his eyes dug out and was dressed as a scare crow in a field for the ravens to feast on him. Yes the totally unique Shanty who is described as a ‘Storyteller, animator, toy theatre impresario, the UK’s only pseudo-surrealist morris dancer, James Joyce “skoalar”, performer and all round creative maverick’ also conducts a Victorian Miniature Toy Theatre  and spent time in India with a Yogi spiritual leader – Susan would have fallen in love!

Tonight I am off to Shakespeare’s The Merry Wives of Windsor and am hoping that Sir John Falstaff will chase away thoughts of massive St Ives rats – although on second thoughts I still need to come down through the dark, shadowy, cobbled lanes of murderous deeds – Ohhhhh