A Bank Holiday weekend camping in Cornwall doesn’t always work out as hoped, but early May 2025 started beautifully sunny as I drove to Perranporth on the Friday. I was booked in for a folk and country weekend at the Anchor Barrow campsite https://www.anchorbarrow.com/. I had seen some good things about this campsite and a weekend of music in the sun, near the beach, promised to be an ideal opportunity to try it out.
After a brief, very welcoming introduction to the site I found a suitably flat spot to park up the van and pitch my tent. Although I have a VW Transporter with a pop up roof, and I was travelling on my own, I prefer to pitch a 2 man tent beside the van for sleeping in. My pop up doesn’t ‘pop up’ anymore, and needs some attention, but I also find it difficult to climb up and down with the layout I have. A separate bedroom in a tent, with my fold out memory foam mattress, which takes less than 10 minutes to set up, works well when the weather is kind. I then use the van for Harry’s crate, and cooking.
Friday night was folk night, and I enjoyed sitting in the sun with a pint listening to the guitarist before the sea mist rolled in. The band later that evening played in the decorated barn on site which was warmer. The violinist was superb.
The Saturday started well with sun up before I was.
After the essential bacon and egg roll cooked in the van I took Harry on a 6 mile walk. We left the campsite down a very narrow path, being grabbed at by stinging nettles and brambles before strolling along a lane into Perranporth.
We then followed a walk taken from https://www.iwalkcornwall.co.uk/, along the coast path heading south, around the airfield and back to camp. The sun still shone, although the wind was chilly when we stopped, and the skies and seas were beautifully blue.
It is so easy to take your own home county for granted and a walk next to the sea in Cornwall is a great reminder of what we have on the doorstep. The coast path in this area runs between old mine workings, and a lot of the cliffs are unstable but still magnificent.
The walk followed the perimeter of Perranporth airfield, and every now and then over the weekend a small private plane would fly overhead. During my walk two parachutists landed on the airfield. It brought back memories of my static line parachute jump many years ago, but that’s a different story!
Saturday night was country night, and stetsons featured, alongside many suitable outfits. This time the duo outside were followed by line dancing in the barn, and then a band. The Texan feast served outside seemed as popular as the line dancing – a success all round. The site is family run and the whole family appeared to pitch in.
The view from the campsite is extensive – the downside is the wind which picked up Saturday and was evident Sunday morning. Once I had followed the footpath downhill back towards Perranporth, however, it felt warmer, although I spent the day taking my jumper on and off.
Before the beach I walked through the gardens alongside the road, based around the old railway track
I then found myself at the boating lake. Alongside the model yacht race, ducks and families of geese happily provided entertainment in a very peaceful setting
The beach, meanwhile, was not so peaceful. Being a sunny bank holiday it was packed with families. Harry enjoyed running in the river and attempting to pinch other dogs’ balls
I eventually returned to the campsite and enjoyed finishing my book, The Penguin Lessons, by Tom Michell. Apart from the main storyline about a young teacher rescuing a penguin in Uruguay and looking after it at the school he taught in in Argentina, the book also describes a lost era of British public schools abroad. I particularly enjoyed the chapters describing some of the travels around the area that Tom undertook, not wanting to waste his time in South America.
I reflected on my weekend. At times I had felt conspicuous, standing on my own rather than being part of a group or at least a couple, whilst listening to the bands. I don’t suppose anyone was paying me the least attention, but I nevertheless felt awkward, something I never feel when walking or travelling generally. Surrounded by lots of people laughing and joking together it can feel lonely being on your own, however much I know that you can feel lonely even when you are in a relationship. I don’t remember feeling quite the same in Portugal or Tunisia, when I had travelled on my own, nor this weekend when walking or exploring with Harry. It will be interesting to see if the way I feel changes over the next year or so.
I decided to pack up whilst the weather was dry and come home, stopping on the way for fish and chips at Fistral beach, Newquay
