‘I rode solo on a motorbike towards the sunset …’ was the entry in my dream diary, which I began after reading a magazine article about dream-catching, a method to help evade insomnia. Strange indeed, as I’m not naturally adventurous and only ridden pillion once in the past. I soon realized that my night-time feeling of exhilaration had been sparked by ten minutes of solitude and splendour watching the sun go down at Wacker Quay the previous evening.

Driving back home from Torpoint, a local beauty spot by the River Lynher enticed me down to its shore. A few cars were parked up; a twitcher by one, with a telescope, set to look out for rare species of birds, and a dogwalker trudged into greenery at the entrance of the Antony Trail. It looked a bit muddy, but after reading the notice board, I’ll be returning soon when I’ll make sure I’m wearing the right footwear for a ramble. The sign described exceptional scenery and views across the river, including Ince Castle, and there’s a stream crossing the footpath halfway along where I might be lucky to spot deer.

There is a small beach that I know paddleboarders and kayakers launch from, but the tide was out. It’s another good reason to go back when the water is in, to watch and appreciate surroundings while enjoying a picnic at one of the benches and tables.

It’s a good place for anglers, and peaceful, and so difficult to envisage the area in times gone by when barges dropped off military equipment, then sent it along rails to Tregantle and Scraesdon Forts in the late 19th century, although the track was closed and dismantled by 1906. And what of the ambience during WW2, when tanks were loaded there? Much different from my tranquil break away from lockdown life on an essential visit to our local town.

A rosy image, obscured later when my husband exclaimed after perusing social media that someone had fly-tipped rubbish there. So, infuriating.

Until next time.
Sue. X