A few weeks in Lamorna

What do I call this?
Coming home?  Coming to the UK?  Having a holiday in Cornwall?
Certainly it doesn’t feel like a holiday although I suppose it could be seen that way.

For me one of the things I wasn’t expecting when I moved to Spain was how it would feel coming back to my old home.

Perhaps it would be different if I had left here with the intention of not coming back. Or if I had at some point packed up my house and belongings and driven south to take my chances in Barcelona. Or if I had got four pet passports and taken two dogs and two cats in their cages across the sea from Plymouth to Santander and driven them barking and miewing down to Catalunya.

But I didn’t do these things so when I come back to Cornwall I find a house, filled with my stuff, lived in by my animals (as well as my friends who look after them).  I am met with happy barks and purrs which make me feel guilty as I know the day will come all too soon when I bring out the suitcases again.
I left them for three months and ended up staying in Catalunya for good. I am still in transition one and a half years later and I wonder if other people have this long drawn out moving process?

There is a mountain of post to deal with, dripping taps to mend, damp corners to worry about, overgrown brambles to cut, bills to pay, vets to visit and a lot of questions to think about while I search for answers.

  • Is it fair to take a 15 year old deaf collie to live in a hot country?
  • What is more important to a cat or a dog – familiar home or loving owner?
  • What furniture would I drag across a continent to a new home?
  • Where can we  find a home close to Granollers that has a lovely big garden and is not too close to a busy road nor part of an urbanisation?

 Apart from these and many other questions that wake me early every morning I am having a lovely time. There are vegetarian options in the cafes, the view of St Michaels Mount is as beautiful as ever,  the air is fresh and the night sky is crammed with stars. Today I bought fresh fish from Stevensons in Newlyn.

It is cold but still dry and after we cut back the brambles around the trees that I planted over ten years ago we had a huge bonfire and I burned several bags of letters and photos as part of my attempt to clear the clutter in my house and head.

(Visited 28 time, 1 visit today)

Free Updates!

Get the latest posts from the blog delivered to your inbox.

* indicates required

6 thoughts on “A few weeks in Lamorna

  1. I don’t know the answers to your questions. I suppose (as far as the pets are concerned) it depends if your friends are happy to continue looking after them. Fifteen is quite old for a dog to move I suppose, Jasper was only five when we came. Good luck with the decisions… although I’m hopeless at making any myself!

  2. Because I use archives a lot, I’m always alarmed when people say they’re burning photos and letters! You never know what future generations will find of use and interest. So don’t be too ruthless!

    Alison

  3. Dear Jan thanks for this – I just don’t know but today I feel she can do it and perhaps the dry weather would help her arthritis – could be a new lease of life?
    Alison – yes I totally agree – letters and history – we need to protect it. But I did weed through the ones that were more interesting especially around those early feminist days in London. Kx

  4. Difficult questions and plenty to think about, straddling two countries and homes. It was easier for me when I moved from Edinburgh to Rotterdam because I had no animals, hardly any furniture I cared about apart from the piano and a little table that had been my granny’s and the flat was already sold. And although the possibility was certainly present for coming back sometime, it wasn’t really on the cards at the beginning. I have lived in quite a lot of different places and houses too and I always enjoyed the newness and the challenge of a move.

    I’m sure you will find answers to all your questions, sooner or later.
    Christine

  5. As for what you call it, I usually just say ‘going to Scotland’ or going to see my family or friends’, not ‘going home’. Home is here now, but I will always be Scottish/British. There is room for both. When Cees died, several people asked me if I would be going back to the UK now and the question surprised me. I would like to travel to and fro for longer periods of time in the future, but at the moment that’s not possible with the teaching hours and the dog (who is also old, deaf and arthritic but still full of life). In theory, I can translate anywhere there’s a computer and internet.
    Christine

  6. Oh, Kate, the number of times I’ve walked on the cliffs above Lamorna, with dogs in tow. Didn’t manage it on my January trip – it was -10 at the time! The Towans on a Sunday with friend and dogs was enough.

    On the dilemmas front, I do think animals want to be with their loving owners, cats included. I know many people down this way who’ve brought their ancient cats and dogs, one in particular with a very old sick Scottie who did enjoy a lease of life for 3 years more. All came through the Chunnel rather than fly, to minimise the trauma of flying and separation. I’m sure you’ll make the decision that’s good for all concerned.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *