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Tintagel and King Arthur

29 December 2012
As we drove the rugged lofty road of the Cornish coastline into the magical village of Tintagel, Mark and I discussed the legend of King Arthur and the enchanting possibility that he really could have been born here, because it definitely seemed to be such an enchanting place, where fantasy could come alive at any moment. It was as if we had travelled back through the ages of eight hundred years, for the buildings and the ancient village looked unchanged by time. I felt we were on a movie set, except everything was real and I couldn’t help gasping at the sheer quaintness and curiousness of the stone cottages and shops in the streets as we meandered our way to where we were staying. It seemed so desolate and eerie here as well, as the wind howled around us and a mysterious mist, which could have been cast by an ancient medieval spell, hung above the castle ruins and seemed to crawl up from the sea out of Merlin the magician’s cave below.

Next we were captivated by the feeling of romance and opulence when we arrived at our hotel called Camelot Castle. The views from our window looked out over the thirteenth century ruins on Tintagel Island and at the vast ocean of the Atlantic swelling up like a wild grey monster below the cliffs, making chills go up and down my spine at the thought of Titanic making her way across it on her maiden voyage before she sank. The four poster bed was a decadent reminder of how kings and queens must have once lived long ago and just for one night, that’s exactly what Mark and I decided to experience also. It was to be just one of our rare extravagances on our adventures in England, which I will honestly never ever forget and if you could see my face right now, you would see how much I am still smiling.

Mark + Claire xx