The first weekend in May is, for the English, a 'bank' holiday. Meaning a three-day weekend in which the business world shuts down on Monday, therefore allowing families to spend time together and the recent grads to grab on to a bit of their former University glory and enjoy a long weekend in the sun (or, in this case, rain. Rain happens to be a bank holiday special; every year.)

In my case the flat-mates and I packed our bags and decided to enjoy our long weekend by leaving early on Friday to head to Cornwall. We took a train straight into the heart of this celtic country to a little place called Minions. And when I say little I mean that there were all of three buildings - a pub, a cafe, and a post office/shop/B&B all combined into one (in which we stayed).

(Home away from home for the weekend)

Despite the fact that we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into, and that on the train ride down the reactions of those Brits whom we told our destination to was less than encouraging - the "Why are you going there?", is never something you want to hear after having already booked your holiday and nearing your chosen fate with every passing second on the train, we actually had a fabulous and relaxing time.

We got to know the residents from miles around at the local pub, conveniently located about 10 steps from our B&B. By the time we left I think there was a true bond, an American-British 'special relationship' of sorts (and heck, we even had a Canadian with us too. Thats international relations at its best).

Day one was spent by the sea, walking along sandy beaches, eating Cornish ice cream and taking a break to enjoy a proper Cornish cream tea. We were even lucky - it didn't start to rain until after we left the beach that day.

Day two was full of exploration. Hiking, and climbing among the paegan ruins which surrounded us in Minions, on the Bodmin Moor. Stongehenge-esque stones thrown about, ancient stone houses, mysteriously stacked boulders on a hill (After debating many theories on how these stones arrive in such a position, we settled on the alien theory. You know, the same aliens that helped the Egyptians and the Myans build their pyramids. Yeah, those ones.)

Sadly, we did not encounter the legendary beast which is supposed to reside on the Bodmin Moor, a 'Nessy' of sorts, but on land, and in Cornwall rather than Scotland. But, honestly, I can't say I'm too disappointed. Getting attacked by a falcon and chased by an over-protective mother sheep with two little lambs was enough animal excitement for one weekend (those stories will be for another time).

(I see rocks and I must climb. I have an odd affinity for cliffs considering my clumsiness....)

Our break was lovely, but it is nice to be back in London. After getting off the train Paddington station, I breathed in the smoggy air and let out a confident, "It feels nice to be home," only to then look up and see the British flag. Uh, well to be kinda 'home.' At least to be back to normal among the rush and crush of the city.