The story of a runaway dog, an imitation Porsche and stunning views
There aren’t many downsides of owning a Porsche, but the cost of servicing is one of them, so at the 2 year anniversary if owning the car and the next service came around, it was the time I was dreading,
The car reminded me about the service every time I sat in it, so a few calls to different types of specialists produced a range of quotes, all of them unpalatable, but the specialist garage that I bought it from offered the best deal.
It was a weird coincidence, that when I was hunting for a very specific model, the best option came up in my home stomping ground of Plymouth rather than around the bit cities which I’d expected. The specialist garage I had bought it from had been very good to deal with, so when their quote was the best, it gave me an excuse to turn the trauma of the car service into an opportunity for and adventure.
I’d had been a previous issue with the car, and the dealer had provided another Porsche as my loan car. So, when I booked the service, I requested the loan car and booked myself into a little pub in the village of Cawsands just outside Plymouth. I was looking forward to a blast through the Cornish lanes in a different model for a change.
Cawsand Bay had a special place in my life. It is a little village in one of the bays off Plymouth Sound, every Janner knows where it is but very few people go there once they grow up. As a kid, the treat with my gran was the 30-minute ferry ride across Plymouth Sound and then a day on the beach swimming and pleading for ice cream.
Then there was Maker Camp, an old military camp on top of the cliff, that had been converted into a school adventure camp. All the schools in Plymouth were allocated their week each summer, so from the last year of primary school and for the first 2 years of secondary school, we would be packed off to camp, where we played football, walked for miles doing orienteering, climbed rocks and cliffs and generally burned off all our energy before it was restocked at the tuck shop,. The food was shocking, even worse than school meals. For most kids it was their first experience of being away from home as well, so there always some grizzlers at night.
As we grew up, the 4 pubs in the village provided a great place for a day out and drinking on the sea front. As we got a bit wealthier and could afford a boat, it became the place to go on a Sunday, normally with a bit of water skiing in Cawsand Bay or maybe fishing before visiting the pubs and catching up with mates.
Nowadays on a Sunday, the bay is full gin palace type launches that have blasted their way over from the Barbican and bob around drinking cocktails or going ashore for a beer and then heading back, so not much has changed over the last 50 years, the village hasn’t grown much and even the ferry still runs to Plymouth as the best link with civilisation, 30 minutes by ferry or 90 minutes by road to a city you can see from the beach.
I was really looking forward to the trip back to the village for the night as there are stunning views and walks, old pubs and a little walk down memory way. After a good trip down from Bristol I dropped the car on time and was looking forward to the loan car, they gave me the keys and told me it was down the road. It took me a while to work it out, then I discovered why the loan car was “down the road”, it was not a Porsche, it was a Skoda. I couldn’t believe my eyes.
Imitation Porsche
Now there is nothing wrong with a Skoda, smashing little cars, very reliable etc, but not what you expect from a Porsche specialist, especially while they are charging a fortune for an oil change. So a disappointing start to my treat, but Tess the Dog seemed happier in the little two door runabout, she took up residence in the back seat and off we went for 50 minute drive to Whitsand Bay, the beach haunt of all Plymouth teenagers once we had access to transport, and the first destination of my trip down memory lane. With the stunning views out to Rame Head. I stopped a few times to take in the views along the cliff road and eventually I arrived in Cawsand Bay and was unexpectedly greeting by a drop of rain, the first in 8 weeks, this was a development I hadn’t expected when I packed for the night.
I parked the car where I wouldn’t be noticed, walked to the pub, checked in, put the walking boots on and headed along the coast path to Penlee Point and on to Rame Head. Initially it was dry and very windy as we reached the first headland at Penlee Point, with stunning views back toward the Plymouth Hoe and the enormous breakwater built by French prisoners of 200 years ago.
I sat and ate my pasty enjoying the views back towards Plymouth and my spiritual home. Tess the Dog was more interested in the contents of my pasty to be honest and was cringing in the gale. we walked towards Rame Head along a stunning bit of coastline on the most easterly point of Cornwall, with the steep cliffs covered in gorse bushes. As a kid I dreamed of fishing on the rocks below, with their deep water and array of species, but now I realised there was no way down to those rocks, and pushing through the gorse might have incurred an unwanted meeting with adders which are abundant.
As we arrived at the Rame the clouds turned grey and as we got to the little church on the headland, why ancients civilisations would want to build a chapel out there I have no idea, but as we got there the clouds opened. Worse than that, it was accompanied by thunder and lightning, the thing in the world that Tess the Dog hates most.
The walk back to Cawsand wasn’t easy, dodging between cover from the showers along the cliff path and finally we made it back to Penlee Point. 1 mile path back to the village and Tess was in a rush, at this point, there was a loud clap of thunder, and Tess the Dog unexpectedly bolted along the path.
She is normally very good off the lead so I wasn’t expecting this reaction, as she got to a bend in the path, she looked over her shoulder and gave me a look, one that I now realise meant “I’m out of here”.
I trotted along the path, whistling, expecting to see her waiting somewhere, but as I closed in on the village, I realised this could be more serious than I thought, she hadn’t run off in her previous 11 years. However, one thing to remember about Tess the Dog is she is a very resourceful girl and attracts attention.
As I arrived back into the village I noticed a group of people outside a pub, crowding around something fury. They were crowding around Tess the Dog. Apparently, she had bolted along the coast path, into the village and straight into the nearest pub where she knew she would find safety. The locals had adopted her and were feeding her bits of their tea, little did they know she was interested in their beer too.
Having solved the mystery of the runaway dog, she was put on the lead, and we went for a stroll around the pubs and the back streets. I had forgotten what an absolute gem of a place it is. As a kid you don’t really think about narrow streets much, and when you arrive by boat I didn’t really ever get past the pubs on the waterfront.
I have been to Cornwall so many times, but it had never occurred to me to spend time here in the village, by road it is a totally remote backwater. All the cottages are beautifully maintained, and probably available on Airbnb, one pub had burned down and has re-opened as a community centre. I would imagine the inhabitants must total less than 200 but somehow the other pubs seemed to be doing fine.
The most amazing thing, was that the shops were exactly the same shops that had been there when I was at Maker Camp as a kid, the little dairy now sold coffee instead, the gift shop still sold the same sort of stuff we used to buy our parents as our gift from Maker Camp, it was as if time had stood still, it was quite amazing how little had changed in 50 years.
I spent an evening in the Halfway House pub, eating fish and chips and drinking beer which is quite a treat to be honest. I would normally have had company, but Tess the Dog was still traumatised and had taken up residence under my bed, and I couldn’t be bothered with Tess being a Moody Mary being needy in the bar.
Next morning, it was back to the hidden Skoda, a drive back to the garage hoping that their car didn’t run out of fuel and to pick up my car. It was a then time to head into the Barbican to see my oldest mate, we went to school together when we were 6, and it was a chance chew over our memories of Maker Camp as kids.
It’s not easy to turn a car service into an adventure, but I reckon I did a pretty decent job.
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