The weather continues to be hot and sunny, an ideal counterpoint to the Cornish landscape. Today we head to Trerice, another property owned by the National Trust. Again we arrive in time for an introductory talk. This is not on the scale of Richard’s in-depth presentation at Levant Mine, which is probably just as well, as I am standing in full sun. I am smothered in factor 50, unusual for me as my boot-leather skin withstands most that our climate throws at us but this prolonged sunny spell has had even me turning to the bottle.

This area has been farmed since the iron age and there is a record of an Udo Trerice owning a longhouse in 1300. The name means farmstead (Tre) by the ford on the running water (rice). The fact that, until the sixteenth century, the river at the back of Trerice was navigable to the coast and that the river was fordable at this point, explains the decision to build here. Michael Trerice, son of Udo, had a daughter Jane but no sons. She married Ralph Arundell and the estate passed to the Arundell family. Strangely, I have always pronounced this Arun-dull (like the place in Sussex) but our guide is saying A-rundell. Regardless of pronunciation, the Arundells were on the up and became one of the major landowning families in Cornwall. In 1572, John Arundell built the current Trerice in order to have a home that was commensurate with his status. The house is small but bears many of the hallmarks of the archetypal Elizabethan manor. It was created in the traditional, symmetrical E shape, in honour of the queen. One wing of the house is now missing. We find it difficult to make sense of the layout. The ‘front’ is clearly more ornate but somehow, to us, the ‘back’ is more convincing as the original front, if you see what I mean.

The house is built from locally-quarried Elvan stone, which is a warm yellow colour. The regular-sized, hand-hewn blocks were just one of many features that were a testament to the wealth of the owner. There were fashionable Dutch gables, a ‘feature’ glazed window in the hall, chimneys, plasterwork ceilings and a long gallery, so the residents could exercise in bad weather. There is also a knot garden, which is currently filled with lavender.

The Arundells were staunch Royalists. During the English Civil War, John Arundell, known as ‘Jack for the King’, held Pendennis Castle against the Parliamentarian forces for five months before surrendering, despite being in his seventies at the time. He was also instrumental in getting Queen Henrietta Maria and Prince Charles (the future Charles II) safely to the continent. Although the estate was sequestered, it was returned at the Restoration. A North Devon connection is that his wife was Mary Carey of Clovelly.

The male Arundell line died out and the estate passed firstly to the Wentworths and then to the Dyke-Aclands of Killerton. From this point, Trerice was not lived in on a permanent basis and little maintenance was done, leading to considerable damage. It was owned by Cornwall County Council for a time and they utilised the land to provide tenant farmsteads for soldiers returning from the First World War. In the 1950s the Elton family held Trerice on a repairing lease and amongst other things, replaced the roof with Delabole slate.

Inside we find another ‘homely’ residence. There is armour on display, we are invited to try on helmets. It hardly seems fair to mention that I have several of my own at home. There are also replica Tudor games on display and several long-case clocks. I know lighting is kept to a minimum in these places, in order to prevent damage but Trerice does seem particularly gloomy. It is only when I remove my glasses to read some small print that I realise it is the fault of my sunglasses. I need to get used to taking the ordinary glasses round with me as well. We sit and have a refreshing drink, strongly resisting the cake, then wander round the gardens. We decline the opportunity to play kyles, a Cornish version of skittles and slapcock, an early version of badminton but played with participants standing in a circle and batting a chicken’s head to each other. No wonder the shuttlecock was devised as an alternative. I should perhaps add that no chickens would have been harmed had we decided to play as there was a more acceptable alternative available.

Wonderful though the weather is, it really doesn’t make walking very far an appealing option, so once again it is back to the site to sit in the shade. I could get used to this relaxing lark. Despite a sign reading ‘Fish and Chips here on Tuesday’s’, I manage to overcome my hatred of mis-used apostrophes sufficiently to partake of said delights, well I would be rude not to. The diet starts errr……. Let’s just hope the next site doesn’t have a visiting fish and chip van too.