A Love Letter to the Cornish Coast

By Lauren Regan.

Have you ever felt homesick for a place that you’ve never lived? Every family has a place woven into its lore, somewhere that becomes more than just a holiday spot or a pin on a map. And for the Regan Clan, that place has always been Cornwall.

From the age of one or two years old, every summer meant piling into the car for an overnight drive, bleary-eyed but excited, with the caravan hooked to the back, a CB radio (pre-mobile phones) and stack of cassette tapes (later CDs) ready for the 10-hour drive from the North East, down to the most southerly point of the UK. There was something dreamlike about waking up from a doze in the back seat to find the sky growing lighter and the smell of salt in the air as the roads got smaller and tighter as they wound down into Cornwall. 

Then there it was. St Michael’s Mount, perched on its hill in the bay, the final beacon that meant we were only a few minutes away from our home for the next few weeks – a caravan site in Perranuthnoe, a tiny little village not far from Penzance. 

Cornish Rituals

Summer had its rituals - surf days, rounders on the field, ice creams in St Ives, and at least one morning perched above Mount’s Bay, Cornish pasty in hand, watching “the ninnies” (as my dad called them) misjudge how fast the water will rise on the tidal causeway to St Michael’s Mount.

The game was simple: guess which confident stragglers would beat the tide and which would end up with soggy trouser hems, picnic hampers hoisted overhead, or worse, wading waist-deep while shouting at their partner that they knew this would happen, it always does, and now the pasties are wet. Cruel? Yes. Hilarious? Absolutely.

Then there was the evening entertainment. Some nights it was simple, a lazy wander down the rugged cliff tops to the beach or watching a sea-shanty or two in the Victoria Inn (which held a standard Michelin Guide listing until October 2019). Other nights, we went all in, like a trip to Land’s End, where on summer nights the firework displays lit up the ocean in a riot of colour. Visit Land’s End during the day, you can explore clifftop trails with breathtaking views, pop into the Aardman and 4D piratefilm attractions, or pause at the iconic signpost that marks the westernmost point of mainland Britain. After a day of exploration, unwind with a meal at the First & Last Inn or browse local crafts in the West Country Shopping Village for a perfectly rounded Cornish adventure.

Enjoying the spirit(s) of St Ives 

Cornwall isn’t just about the scenery; it’s the stories that bring people back time and time again. Pirates, smugglers, and misadventure on the high seas all lend themselves well to ghost stories, and people are making a good living discussing the dead in towns up and down the coast. I’ve made the pilgrimage to Cornwall many times as an adult, and when one of my best friends joined me on a trip from California, I knew we had to re-live one of my favourite experiences from childhood – the St Ives ghost walk. Alongside my parents, we traversed the cobbled back alleys as our guide,‘Shanty BaBa’, spun tales of smugglers, spectres, and shipwrecks, along with a particularly grisly tale about rats eating a body snatcher alive. I caught my friend’s eye in the flickering lantern light, and he whispered, horrified, “you did this tour when you were a child??” Yes, I did, my guy, welcome to Cornwall. 

Speaking of St Ives, you can’t miss The Rum and Crab Shack, perched right on the harbour front. Post ghost-walk, we found ourselves in this atmospheric little haunt, tucking into seafood so fresh it practically leapt onto the plate, washed down with a different kind of spirit - rum cocktails that will make you feel pleasantly piratical. Cornwall has a way of making even dinner feel like an adventure.

Surf and Sand

No trip to Cornwall is complete without a surf at Gwithian Beach, near Hayle. A famous surf spot, its golden sands stretch forever. Dogs are allowed on half of the beach in the summer months, and when the tide retreats, it leaves deep natural swimming pools to cool off in, and plenty of shade beneath the towering dunes for those who aren’t a fan of the heat. I’ve spent hours of my life trying (and failing) to stand up on a surfboard on these waves, and once you’re tired of being pummelled by the waves, you can sit back and watch the pros make it look easy. The walk down to the beach from the car park is a bit of a trek through the dunes (15 minutes or so depending on how many inflatable sea creatures you’re carrying), but when you’re at the bottom, you’re greeted by spectacular views and plenty of space to spread out and enjoy your day. 
Cornwall isn’t short of world-class beaches, but one of my favourites has always been Prussia Cove. Tucked away at the bottom of a short but steep walk down from the car, its sheltered waters are so clear they could be borrowed from the Mediterranean. Step into the water from the pebbly beach, and it’s the perfect place for snorkelling, swimming, or exploring hidden caves for forgotten treasure. 

Being Scilly 

A few years ago, I took the love of my life to Cornwall…my dog Cerberus. He was just a pup at the time, and in serious training to be a good ‘adventure dog’ when he was older, so that trip we took things to another level with a charter flight to explore the Isles of Scilly. Cerberus sat in a crate at my feet as the tiny plane shuddered into the sky, Cornwall’s patchwork fields shrinking below us until, suddenly, we were floating above a turquoise sea dotted with islands.

The Scillies are otherworldly. Just a 30-minute flight from Lands End Airport and you’re transported to a wild and unspoilt paradise of white sand beaches, water so clear you can see dolphins in the water on your approach. We hired bikes, explored narrow lanes, and picnicked on deserted stretches of coast. It was the closest I’ve ever come to feeling like I’d stumbled into a dreamscape. Artists flock to the Isles of Scilly for the light, so there are plenty of opportunities to explore galleries and studios too, before dining out at one of the many delicious eateries scattered across the islands. Passengers from the flight and the ferry both disembark on St Mary’s, and whether you are just visiting for the day or staying a little longer, there are plenty of ways to island hop via the sightseeing boats moored in the bay (just make sure you leave enough time for your departing vessel). 

Coming Back

Cornwall has changed a lot over the years, with an increase in visitors, a rise in glossy boutiques, and more people seeking Instagrammable moments. But its soul, the one I met as a child right there on the tiny campsite on the edge of the ocean, is still there. It’s in the laughter of families scrambling over rocks. It’s in the tang of sea salt on your lips after a surf. It’s in the thrill of watching fireworks explode over the Atlantic. But it’s in the smaller things too, sitting in a café, giggling, watching “Emmets” (the Cornish word for tourists) get their feet soaked, or standing on a cliff top, hair whipped sideways, watching for dolphins and thinking, I could live here.

Cornwall is not just where I spent my childhood summers. It’s where I learned the magic of adventure, of laughter, of shared stories. It’s where I first understood that sometimes, the best journeys aren’t about getting somewhere new, they’re about returning to a place that already feels like home.

MOLE works with businesses in the UK and Canada to find their voice, tell their stories, and shape their future. To speak to Lauren about your organisation's ambitions, reach out on [email protected]