At 400m above sea level, Rough Tor (pronounced “roo tore”) is the second highest peak in Cornwall. All you Kiwis can stop laughing now! What it lacks in height is compensated for by its history. We wandered through Neolithic rock enclosures (from around 4000BC), the rocky remains of Bronze age round houses (from about 200BC) and passed a herd of wild ponies, descendants of horses who have lived on the moors for thousands of years. Rough Tor’s summit is crowned by Logan Rock, which gently rocks back and forth when pressed. I couldn’t help but think that the tidily stacked rocks looked like they’d been left behind by a gigantic toddler, called away from stacking toy blocks! Most of these boulders are at least a couple of metres long, half a metre deep and a metre wide, just to give you an idea of the size of these things.
You might have noticed, after my babbling on about mountains, boulders and history, that my image shows none of these things. Those images might follow at a later date, but this image is my favourite of the day. I simply loved being up there, on the slopes and ridges of Rough Tor. The wind on the tops was gusty, rain threatened, and the sun sneaked through occasionally. And I was grinning from ear to ear, trotting from one amazing discovery to the next. And I got to share that experience with these wonderful people – my husband Nigel (on the right), his sister Gail and her husband Janos – the latter two our very generous hosts and guides during our three weeks in Cornwall, this time. I dashed ahead up the slope and turned around to capture them, heads down against the wind, which was just a bit vicious at that point. And Janos luckily glanced up, connecting me to the group.