Hi this is Liz-Bet again, (yes OK its Beth), and knowing my penchant for slightly strange emails, I was a little amused when Becky asked me to write this report but with all the benefits of hindsight here goes............

The trip started at different times for all of us depending on where we came from. My trip happened to start when I left home at 4am, and Becky was picked up at midday by Mark. Next year I’m arguing for a trip in Yorkshire! But the rest of us met up at the lockup at 10:30 and loaded 6 sets of kits into two cars and set of to go to Cornwall, lunching in Salisbury, and snacking in Devon on the way down. Anyway to go on we arrived at the chalet park at about six and sorted out berths in the two chalets. After a quick stirfry in chalet 89, (the social gathering place of the group) we made Simon a happy man and went to the bar, where it was kareoke night. Of course we had to join in, and Becky and I collaborated on "I will survive" and Mark joined in with a strange set of harmonies in the well known "California dreaming".

We all slept late on Sunday, although Simon beat everyone else by sleeping until being called to breakfast at 10:30. At the third attempt we found a beach that we could surf on, but only Bri and Simon actually surfed. In the afternoon after we had dragged them out of the water we headed for Padstow, and played crazy golf (also crazy hockey and football) and Louise used canoe club scoring, 2+2 is always more than five. The man in the shop afterwards said "look at all these girls" to which Mark had to say "we frequently do" In the evening we ate pasta and sauce, and moved en masse to the games room for pool and video games.

Guess what we did on Monday, we went to the beach at Hollywell Bay, 4’ surf and nobody got on it. Mark and Louise went to Newquay and we waited for them on the beach, 4 hours of building and bombing sandcastles and we got bored so we went to the amusement park, where we were joined by Louise and Mark when we were playing crazy pool. We shopped on the way home for useful things like food and 4 gallon water containers, before going back to Curlew’s Point for a barbecue.

Simon described Tuesday thus: Tintagel: "bit pants - no castle" (I disagree; but then I was accused of chatting up 60 year old wardens). Boscastle: "no castle - saw Mark’s pants, Went back to chalets - TV pants still no castle" ( I ought to say at this point that this actually made a nice change from ‘It’s a pub’ on one day he actually made it to midday before uttering this incredibly deep comment about our immediate surroundings)

To summarise we went to the remains of Tintagel castle, which I liked strange girl! before moving up the coast to Boscastle where we looked at a hologram gallery and Mark went swimming in his underwear near a blow hole. Of course he couldn’t let it pass without a comment which has to be repeated: If you were sucked into a blow hole and ejected then you would be the first human to be ejaculated. As a potential geneticist I couldn’t let him get away with that after all 50% of all human DNA has been ejaculated. The tone stayed at that level in the evening when watching an advert for a well known brand of tooth paste Louise said "I have a little man that comes in my mouth" (well Mark did say ‘I am the homunculus’)

We were very careless on Wednesday, we forgot to bring Becky home with us from Newquay, but at least she got to see the penguins at the zoo, and the tacky tourist shops by the station before she abandoned us to Mark and Simon’s bad jokes. On the way back Mark Simon and Bri, went go carting and shocked the owners by the speed at which they were travelling. In celebration of our loss, sorry Becs! We had fish and chip and a walk on the beach.

On Thursday we almost cycled to Bodmin but had a drink at the Camel Valley Winery instead, before cycling back to Padstow. Total distance travelled: 20 miles. We had chicken and sauce for tea and somehow doubled the volume by adding a few vegetables to the mix.

We actually got wet twice on Friday! Yes they got the boats out again, and the lads, (sorry six years in Yorkshire is showing its ugly head again,) actually did some surfing; annoying the boardies no end. As for us lasses we swam. aAter leaving the beach, we went swimming in Newquay. That was of course after Simon was called a hooligan for getting sand in the car (???).

We left early on Saturday, as Mark had to pack for the Alps and I had to get a train back to my bleak Yorkshire hill side.