Fishing nets hung lose from the ceiling. Pictures of old ships covered the walls. Low wooden beams and large sturdy tables painted a picture of stout, little Cornish fisherman drinking to their long time at sea.
I rested my aching feet. The amber coloured beer, of a peculiar name, was sweet nectar to my parched mouth. A packet of cheese and onion crisps quelled the hunger pains from walking the coastal path for three hours.
A cluster of men sat around the bar. They spoke of tales of old in voices that swept through the small enclosed space, into coves and around tight corners.
I nonchalantly stared around the pub, interested in the various ornaments and fishing paraphernalia. I fixed my stare upon two figureheads, both of women. They were so lifelike with their defined features and long flowing hair. I stood up and went and had a closer look. One woman, her stare way out to sea. Her dark, bright eyes conveyed youth and energy. Her skin smooth. The other one, her gaze was slightly averted downwards. Her looks of a mature woman. A violence stirred in her eyes like a cat ready to attack.
I was mesmerised by these figureheads, when I became aware of a man stood beside me.
"You like "em, fresh in today," the heavily built man said.
"They"re beautiful, so lifelike."
"We makes "em on the premises, can do you one if you want?"
"Oh, so they"re not hundreds of years old then?"
"No, we just makes "em look old, with the long "air and flowing dresses."
"How much are they?"
"They varies, from £150 to £300, depends how old they are."
"That"s a bit out of my price range."
They lasts for life these do, worth every penny," and he lumbered back to the bar.
I returned to my table and resumed sipping my pint. I looked through the window. Far off fishing boats bobbed up and down in the sea. White foam crashed against the dark, jagged rock.
I sat reminiscing, as I tend to do, when I come to Cornwall. I noticed the two female walkers enter the pub, who I had passed on my walk, and briefly chatted to. Their heads were turned looking at the various reminders of the sea, so did not see me, so I decided against catching their attention, preferring my own company.
The men"s voices stopped, as though someone really important had just walked in. The heavy thud of the walker"s boots could be heard on the wooden floor, as they approached the bar.
"What can I get you ladies?"
I returned to my reverie. I was relaxed, in the moment. After a while, I thought I may have one more beer, and have a quick chat with the two walkers about how they found the walk. I went to the bar and ordered another pint. One of the walkers was stood on her own.
"Hi, how did you find it?"
"Oh hi, yeh it was quite challenging, but some great views."
That was funny at Flushing wasn"t it, having to wait for the guy to come across in his boat to take you across the other side, but that"s what I love about Cornwall, you never know what to expect."
"Did you go inside that church on the other side?"
"Yeh, I did, it was really old wasn"t it, with all the names of people that have been buried there, some going back to the 17th century.
"Two pints of Old Mother Hen," the landlord announced.
"Oh thanks," and she took out her wallet to pay.
