I know it was a while ago now but I did have another day of holidaying to share. So just in case anyone is wondering why they have been left in limbo, or in our case in Cornwall, here is the final episode.

After an early morning look at Looe for another fishing boat fix for my travelling companion, we head to Cotehele. On the way we fit in another family history parish. Since I have been home, I have been trying to take these newly-found Cornish ancestors further. One just might be a ‘gateway’ ancestor, taking me back to Medieval times and potentially royalty but let’s not get ahead of myself. It holds together well back to 7x great-grandfather Richard Rowse/Roose/Ruse/Ruze but I need to convince myself that his potential father Walter (who does seem to be the only Walter around at that date, didn’t marry until he was in his forties. Further speculation needs to wait until I can get to the new Cornwall archives.

Our first task at Cothele is to hunt out our memorial tree in the fruit orchard. We think we know roughly where it is. We also think we know what variety it is but we fail to locate it. Once again we are hampered by the environmentally friendly attempt to let the orchard go wild. Tramping through long grass trying to find a variety label that has probably long since gone is not fun. Reception provide us with a guide, which suggests that we are looking for the wrong type of tree. I am still not sure that the tree we pay homage to is actually the one that Martha and I planted in 2008; we are both convinced it was a different variety, to the extent that I purchased one of the same type for my garden.

We tour Cothele house, which belonged to the Edgecumbe family. Most of the present building is Tudor but the interior is largely seventeenth century in style. It is one of my favourite National Trust properties and always seems very homely. Surprising then to discover that the family only lived there full time during Civil War. Somehow this had escaped me on previous visits. Not bad for a holiday home. They used it as a showcase for their various collectables. To this end, bizarrely, they have a china closet in the bedroom, presumably so guest can admire the cups and saucers at night. This showcasing lark is not always successful as various tapestries have had bits hacked off them in order to fit the rooms. We manage to miss being in the right place to hear the iconic clock strike twelve. We walk down to the quay before deciding that it really is too hot to be outside and returning to our van.

All in all, it was a gentle sort of holiday and because we are not far from home and have been many times before and hopefully can again, there was no pressure to rush round places thinking this will be our only opportunity. Nothing beats glorious landscapes, the sea, sunshine and the chance to immerse yourself in heritage, both personal and more general.