Humanity has prevailed here for millennia. Ancient standing stones in green fields divisioned by Medievil stone walls. Crumbling 19th century mine-heads remind of tunnels reaching under the sea for copper. Picturesque fishing ports show rare instances of man taming the wilderness with beauty. Thoughts of smugglers abound.
I love this place. My great-granfather is bured just up the road and I feel at ease. A different country to where I abode. People take time, are humble and friendly. A reminder of what is important. Lying atop the wind-swept cliffs staring past the wild-flowers to where land and sea collide, my mind drifts with the swooping gulls.