Short take: the perfect free day is accomplished... Port Eliot is a wonderful place to visit.
Some of us had errands to run in the morning, others of us walked around town, and the hard core played several games. I suspect that you can all guess to which group I belonged.
After a wonderful morning, we (Thomas and Suzi, their friends, Rochelle, and I) walked through Plymouth to the railway station and caught a train to the village of St. Germans (unexpectedly named after a French saint :-). Upon arrival we first looked at the 13thC church, which had an unusual double-naved design, although one can tell from internal and external evidence that it used to be a single-naved church with a lower side aisle. Lovely wood-framed barrel roofs and a heavily eroded but still impressive Norman concentric-arched main doorway.
Afterwards we walked a little further to the stately home and grounds of Port Eliot, which claims to be the longest inhabited building in England. Prior to its acquisition by the present Earl's family after Henry VIII's dissolution of the monasteries, it had already been in use as a priory for over 400 years, and the current house has elements of the priory still incorporated into its structure. In one of the cellars there is apparently a tile floor that has been dated back to around 350AD, although there is no claim that the house to which it belonged has any other relationship to the current structure.
The present Earl and his wife, who still live in the place, are delightfully eccentric... in what other stately home would one see paintings by Reynolds competing for wall space with surf boards? And where else would you see a motorcycle (a Harley, of course) standing in the corner of one room? And then there's the circular music room, with a fascinating and hilarious semi-Dali semi-caricatural mural by a local artist stretching the entire way around the music room's wall that has to be seen to be appreciated.
The only reason the house is open to visitors (and that only for the minimum 100 days per year, in the afternoons from 2-6PM), is that otherwise the large collection of Reynold's paintings (given to the state in lieu of inheritance taxes) would have to go to a museum and the Earl didn't want that. And I have to say, thanks to both the state and to the family for enabling the current situation, because the visit was a delight.
Afterwards we wandered out into the garden, in a direction that had been indicated to us by one of the helpful "stewards" scattered around the place. She said that if we walked along a certain path we'd come to a point that the Daily Telegraph (or some other such reputable paper) had described as "possibly the best picnicking spot in England". We were a little sceptical... until we came around a corner and saw what at first glance seemed to be a painting. And at second, and third, and fifth glance. I'll post photos... but at low-res they won't do it justice. Wow.
And then there was the Atlas Cedar (or maybe of Lebanon... I'm not sure) that was so immense that it made other big trees we have seen feel small. And the maze of pathways through azaleas, camellias, rhododendrons, and so on. Or the carpets of white-flowered ramps (aka wild garlic, or Bärlauch for you Germans) and bluebells in the woods. Or the color combinations and juxtapositions.... Even better when the sun came out for a while.
I mean, even the tea-rooms were a delight with comfy chairs, immense and tasty cakes, and a charming server. We spent four hours total at Port Eliot and could easily have spent eight. A place to go back to, and what a nice day.
