A later start today, as we work our way along the coast eastwards to Boscastle. There are some boats for the fisherman of my acquaintance to view and we wander down to the harbour. Then a tax-deductible visit to the Museum of Witchcraft and Magic, which was founded by Cecil Williamson in 1960. Sadly, some of the exhibits were lost or damaged when the 2004 flood reached roof level, although many were salvaged. I make a few notes with my presentations on seventeenth century witchcraft in mind.

We move on to Port Isaac. We are here to see Fisherman’s Friends again, this time in what they refer to as ‘their natural habitat’. They began as a group of friends who sang together locally until they were discovered by a holidaying record producer. With the increased exposure following the cinema screening of a fictionalised account of their lives and the continuing good weather, it is likely that there will be many people heading to Port Isaac tonight and I am anxious to secure a parking space. We reach Port Isaac at 4.00pm and have to queue to park. By the time we have walked along the coast path to the harbour, there are already people marking their spot for the evening’s performance. We decide against eating in one of the food outlets. The rising popularity of Port Isaac, not only because of Fisherman’s Friends but also because it is the location of television’s Doc Martin, has impacted on the prices. So it’s takeaway pasty on The Platt and a game of foil the seagulls. Us 1 seagulls nil. It might seem ridiculous to spend three hours sitting on very hard, ridgy concrete waiting to listen to a concert but it is what we came for and the crowds are swelling by the minute, so that’s what we do. I think I may be getting a bit past this sort of thing!

The disadvantage of not eating in a restaurant is that we need to use the public toilets. Keen to extract as much as possible from the visitors and who can blame them, the council charge 20p to enter. I have no particular objection to spending 20p to ’spend a penny’ (ok, well I probably do) but it does mean you need to have the correct coin. We have ensured that we do have one each, as a result of the pasty purchase and I head off to use mine. I insert my coin. The door buzzes. I turn the handle and enter, only to find a surprised gentleman in full flow (it was a unisex toilet). I hastily apologise, although it was his fault for not locking the door and back out. Now I no longer have my 20p. Fortunately, someone held the door of their toilet open for me. Back on The Platt and the seagulls get their revenge. No more 20ps means no way of washing this off my hair, so we go for dabbing a bit and hoping my grey streaks will disguise it. The concrete is feeling less hospitable by the minute but we enjoy people watching and identifying those who are likely to lose their gourmet burgers to the seagulls.

The band arrive; they are fielding nine members tonight. In a way it is a shame that their popularity has made these charity evenings such a big event and that it has lost some its informality but it is certainly big business for Port Isaac and fair play to them for making the most of the local business opportunities. It is lovely that the band seem as excited to see the large crowds as we are to see them. Tonight’s is their largest audience ever; perhaps some two thousand people. I hope they realise how much they would have to pay to hear this band elsewhere and even though they have to bring their own chairs, sit on concrete or stand, I trust they will give generously when the collecting bucket comes round. The Platt is full and there are people lining the paths on both sides of the valley. The music is, as always, stirring and a wonderful representation of our sea-going heritage. The backdrop of the harbour adds to the atmosphere. As the sun dips behind the cliffs, it does get a little chilly. In an attempt to mitigate the ill-effects of the concrete on my anatomy, I am sitting on my coat. I now have to make the decision between continuing to sit on the coat, thus being chilly and putting it on to keep warm but being more uncomfortable than I already am; I opt for the former. All too soon the evening is over and we decide that the atmosphere made the long uncomfortable wait worth the while, although we would do things differently if we came again, including bringing a supply of 20ps. To top it off, there is a wonderful sunset over the sea as we walk back to the car park. It seems we were lucky with our car parking as many of the audience have been directed to a field about a mile away.