Welcome to a day in the life of a Mevagissey bookseller. Well it starts as always with a box full of books in the car and a drive in from St Austell. Today was hellishly windy but as I dropped down into the village the wind seemed to die down, clearly Heligan was taking the brunt of the winds. I drove down Jetty Street parked up and unloaded. This is always a tricky effort but easier in winter, this morning I am unimpeded by any other traffic and I drive off to park at the lighthouse. I could park in one of the other car parks, but I love walking out by the sea, dodging the seaweed strewn road and the splashing waves. It’s also the cheapest place to park which helps!
Walking back to the shop I’m stopped by a couple in a car who ask me if I’m local. Now there’s a question. I doubt there are many other places in the world where such an innocent sounding question is laden with problems. No, I’m not local, I come from St Austell but even there I’m not local, I used to live up country, worse yet my parents aren’t local either, neither are their parents. However, these guys are on holiday and just want to know if the Wheelhouse serves breakfasts. As if to underline how much of a local I’m not, I don’t know the answer. Frustratingly the wife pipes up “Only we saw people in there eating breakfast…” Grrr, well surely that answers your own question!? On I stroll and pause to watch a cormorant sunning himself on a rock and think about how gorgeous life is sometimes, so long as you choose not to focus on stupid questions.
The day progresses along normal lines, as we have the new EV Thompson in, lots of people are popping in to collect their copy and all of them stop to share a story with me. They are really entertaining but I’m not getting anything done. He was a lovely gentleman and is clearly missed by a lot of people. Here in the village he was well known and loved, not because he was famous but because he was good. Other people wander in for a browse and find some book that they can’t do without. Others baulk at £3 and point out that they can get it for a pound at their local car boot sale. Hmm, off you go then.
Out in the street the wind is picking up but unfortunately for the Mevagissey Lights Committee this is also when they need to hang the new lights. Jetty Street is getting some amazing strands of lights running the entire length; they are going to look stunning. The lights committee are swearing as the lights refuse to switch on but the wind is whipping away any offending words and only the gulls are assaulted by the words and God knows they’ve had worse directed right at them.
By three the heavens open and the road is white with bouncing rain. By four I have my ark built and head home, I stop at Kim’s to buy some fish and have to laugh. She was telling me when it started raining she was chatting to some of the fisherman who promptly bolted at the first drop of rain. Now there’s a group of men that you’d think wouldn’t melt in the rain. Then again, I should imagine that they have to put up with more than their fair share at sea. Getting wet inland is just too much. The road outside the firestation is flooded but there are people out helping to direct the traffic through the shallowest section. And then I’m off home again, driving out of Mevagissey and thinking about what a great day it’s been despite the atrocious weather.