On Saturday we travelled to see the amazing Fisherman’s Friends at the unusual venue Carnglaze Caverns. We are great fans of the sea shanty group that is Fisherman’s Friends and booked for this concert when the one nearer to home was cancelled in the spring, due to the liquidation of the local theatre. I was giving a talk to our local family history society in the afternoon so, afterwards, we set off for Cornwall, planning to grab some fish and chips to sustain us before the concert started. Carnglaze Carverns is not near anywhere much, or certainly not near any take-away outlets, so, having established where the venue was, we went into the centre of Liskeard to look for a Fish and Chip shop. We went round Liskeard, up and down Liskeard and through Liskeard. We approached Liskeard town centre from every conceivable direction but not a Fish ad Chip shop in sight. Actually that isn’t true, there was one that clearly had not been open for some considerable time. We passed up the options of kebabs and pizza and finally managed to purchase sustenance in a Chinese take-away.
I should explain that there are no numbered seats at Carnglaze Caverns. The doors were to open at 7pm for an 8pm start and seat allocation was to be first come first served. This obviously means that my plan was to be near the head of the queue well before 7pm. If it had been up to me I’d have been there about 3pm. This was all going well before the extended tour of Liskeard. We hot tyre it back to Carnglaze Caverns with our take-away steaming in the car footwell. As we approach the caverns, there is someone directing traffic. We are deemed not to be of ‘low mobility’. This is a moot point as my back is still not behaving itself. I should have done a better job of looking feeble, as, being allegedly of high mobility, we are to park in the overflow car park which is, we are told, 200 yards up the road and ‘a quick walk through the woods’ to the caverns. After identifying the overflow car park, a very long 200 yards away, we consume our hard won take-away. I am trying not to be concerned by the fact that many people are heading towards the front of the queue before us. More worryingly, they are all carrying cushions. We have no cushions. We have nothing with which to improvise. Ah well, you live and learn. Replete from the largest portion of chips we have ever seen, we head towards the cavern. We are parked in a squelchy field and water is seeping into my trainers. The walk may be quick but it is also very muddy and I speculate on how the return journey is going to go, as the path appears to be unlit and on our right is an un-fenced babbling brook. I am glad that, although we do not have cushions, we do have a torch.
Soggy socked we enter the cavern. Caves are not exactly my companion’s favourite thing but he appears not to be having a panic attack and we are ushered past many seated concert goers to the fourth row from the front. To be honest we are just glad that we are not seated under one of the persistent drips from the roof of the cave. There are yellow plastic wedges inserted in various fissures in the wall. We assume that, if one of these falls out, it is time to beat a hasty retreat. Always the girl guide I have availed myself of the facilities that I spotted on my way from the car. This was clearly A GOOD THING. Those less substantially shod than I are having to retrace their steps for some considerable way. The concert, as ever, was brilliant and the venue was certainly atmospheric. It turned out that the path back to the car was lit after all and we are soon driving home through the mists of Bodmin Moor.
You’ve persisted thus far, so you deserve to be in on the great reveal. The exciting news is that we will be going to the 2018 New Zealand Society of Genealogists’ conference next June. I have been sitting on this secret for a year and am really pleased to finally be able to say that I will be in attendance, along with Master Christopher and Mistress Agnes. Full details and fanfares have to wait until later in the year.