Under a Mackerel Sky - A Memoir

But it wasn't just the parties, the girls and the songs that made Cornwall my summer place. I loved the ruggedness of North Cornwall; high cliffs, endless beaches, gales in the winter so that the trees all leaned one way, the romantic bleakness of the headlands. Short tough grass, pink thrift, yellow gorse. I loved the gnarled endurance of the fishermen, the dangerousness of the pubs in Padstow...

A bit of fading and sundamage to this copy