Perranporth

I have not had access to WiFi over the past few days, and when I have I have been too busy talking (what a surprise!), and so there are going to be a couple of posts in quick succession.

I am doing a whole post on Perranporth for a number of reasons, not least of which is that the Saint who gave his name to this place is the same one that we gave to our oldest son!  The surrounding area of Perranporth is truly beautiful.  It has a wonderful beach, several miles long with sand dunes leading down to it.

 The stunning beach at Perranporth

Perran beach.

 Walking on Perran beach.

Saint Piran, or Saint Perran, was an Irish monk who was born in the fifth century and said to be a hard liver (and drinker). He was tied to a millstone, thrown into the sea, floating across and washing up on Perran beach.  It was here, in the sand hills that he built his oratory and people came from miles to hear him preach.  Over time the oratory got buried by the dunes, was eventually uncovered hundreds of years later, recovered by a concrete structure, and in recent times has been uncovered again.  Nearby stand the ruins of a mediaeval church dedicated to him, along with a thousand year old celtic cross.

 Saint Piran's oratory.

 The ruins of the medieval Saint Piran's church.

The celtic cross near Saint Piran's Church.

The cross in the sandhills at Perranporth.

Chatting to a bloke in the pub the other night he told me how, last year, in the storms that battered the coast for weeks on end, a wall of sand blocked access to the dunes.  He had never seen anything like it.

The village of Perranporth is a summer place, pleasant in the winter, but only basic services.  I was unable to find anywhere to stay here despite the myriad of hotels and B&B's.  All were closed for the winter.  Like much of this part of Cornwall, it is a touristy place with an absolutely huge caravan park, though they don't call it that.