St. Mawgan-in-Pydar: A Kind Stranger

 After catching the train to St. Austell from Liskeard (on the London to Penzance line):

 And the briefest of looks at St. Austell:

 

I was shocked to find out that Newquay Airport didn't operate like most other airports (e.g. Manchester, Liverpool, Warsaw etc.) and didn't allow people to get their head down there overnight.

Of course, this pushed me into the difficult situation of having to go looking for somewhere to camp nearby.

Upon exiting the airport ground, and finding myself on a busy main road, I saw that my only real option was to go down a mysterious-looking country lane: 

Towards a village called St. Mawgan-in-Pydar, all of which turned into something of a strange adventure.

 

Upon entering the village, I first came across what looked like a private graveyard:

 

 

And soon, it became clear that I was on Catholic land:

 

As a Catholic myself, I loved the Ave Maria on the concrete path:

 

Plus, I saw an apple orchard:

 

 

In response, the thought entered my head that maybe I could enquire about camping here for the night.

 

Very soon afterwards, I found myself speaking to a friendly, genteel-looking Catholic lady with a crucifix round her neck who told me that I'd chanced upon Lanherne Convent and that it might be a good idea to ask the convent priest about the possibility of camping on the ground for the night after first enquiring about accommodation at the local pub first. 

 

 

 

Thus, after finding out that the local pub had recently closed down, I braced myself for asking the priest about the possibility of camping on the orchard ground.

 

Upon ringing the bell, I found myself speaking to an American priest and received the answer that I'd expected: camping on the grounds and paying a donation, which I had offered, would be completely against formal rules and regulations (in some ways, this made practical sense, of course, in other ways, I was tempted to rail against institutionalised Christianity as Tolstoy does in Resurrection and Thomas Hardy does in Jude and Tess - the latter was the easiest option but I resisted it as embitterment is spiritually unhealthy).

 

After this, I moved towards the Anglican church which, physically, was almost joined to the Catholic ground:

 

The church was old and beautiful:

 

But it wouldn't have been the done thing to have set up camp in the graveyard, although I've seen this kind of thing done in Canterbury, Kent and up in the Lake District, possibly with the Church of England's blessing (good for the latter, if so).

 

Anyway, after finding that the village parkland had been locked up for the night and that local woodland near the village post office was completely unsuitable for camping, and with it starting to get increasingly dark:

 

I decided to trudge back towards Newquay Airport but was first delayed by the Anglican church doing evening bell-ringing practice which was like an explosion of sound all over the place.

 

After making my way up the lane towards the Airport for some time, with the prospect of standing up for many hours underneath a bus shelter, I passed a young man in his mid-30s, who said "Hi, alright" and I responded similarly.

 

Moreover, after a few steps up the road, I turned back and said to the young man:

 

"I've just offered the convent a donation to camp on their land and it was a no go. Would you, in any way, be open to receiving the money for letting me camp on your land for a night?".

 

And to my pleasant surprise, the young man responded in the affirmative:

 

"Yes, of course, as long as I can offer you something to eat and drink in return, and have a chat with you".

 

And so I ended up having a couple of cans of cider and could've had a chicken supper (unfortunately, I don't like white meat), and chatting with the young man for 2-3 hours about Prog Rock; Thomist Catholic theology; religious/truth-seeking; philosophy; the meaning of the stars etc.

 

Moreover, I managed to get about seven hours of much-needed, solid sleep, and as the young man had promised, I was greeted by an incredible sunrise:

 

During my conversation with the young man, he told me that the local Catholic priest was from California and had spent time speaking with him about Catholicism which impressed me. 

 

Maybe the Catholic priest had said a prayer for me to find a camping spot that night, that's how I choose to view things (the power of positive thinking).

 

Many thanks to the great young man, of course.