Even the sticky toffee pudding was a sign
Far be it from me to wander around saying things like ‘it’s fate that we met when we did’, and ‘I can’t second guess what fate has in store for me’, yet last Friday would have tested even the most cynical. It was just one thing after another, after another that made me feel that we were destined to live in St Ives.
Here are the signs:
Arriving in Truro (on time) we had the opportunity to visit the stunning Truro Cathedral before our first appointment with our broker. We arrived at his place on time, we then met the bank manager on time, enabling us to meet our solicitor on time, we then left Truro on time in order to arrive at the guest house we’d booked (in the name of research) in St Ives on time. Now, how often does that happen… A sign – no!?
OK… I know that it was Guy Fawkes night and the fireworks were not put on for our benefit but we could have chosen any weekend to go down there, and it turned out that it was that one. Fireworks on Porthminster Beach and some of the best chips I’ve ever eaten… A sign – no!?
It was raining all day on and off. For the two hours between us leaving the guest house we were staying in and arriving in the restaurant for dinner it did not rain; it was also eerily warm and we barely needed coats to be comfortable on the beach. Arriving at the restaurant later on that evening it proceeded to rain constantly for 2 hours, stopping only minutes before we left so we could take a night time walk around the town… A sign – no!?
Sitting down at a picnic table on the beach we started chatting to a lovely lady called Gloria. Slightly over-excited after very successful meetings all day with our bank manager, mortgage broker and solicitor, we couldn’t help but tell her what we were doing and that this gorgeous oceanside town (seaside town sounds too twee to describe St Ives) was soon to be our home. It turned out that she was also buying a place in St Ives and moving down from South London (Surrey). We spent the next 45 minutes animatedly discussing our new location and agreed to meet at the same place next year to find out how everything had gone.
Of all the people we could have sat next to, we sat next to Gloria… A sign – no!?
We had no plans for dinner and I had lost the restaurant recommendations that people had sent us. Wandering down the harbour among a throng of teenagers all looking for a ‘piss up’ on a Friday night (some teenage traditions transcend London) we came across the cutest restaurant in the corner of the harbour; covered in ivy it looked cosy and inviting; the menu was all about fresh fish and the prices didn’t scream ‘rip off’ so we went in to Hobblers.
We were sat on a table towards the back of the restaurant for about 10 minutes whereupon the friendliest waitress we had ever come across offered to move us to the best table in the restaurant as it was becoming free. It really was a fabulous table, overlooking the harbour, and we clinked glasses over a slighly wet but still beautiful St Ives view. Of all the people in the restaurant she moved us… A sign – no!?
THE STICKY TOFFEE PUDDING
…which we had at the end of the meal was quite possibly the best sticky toffee pudding we had ever tasted. I kid you not, I would have left Danny for that pudding! At that stage in the day, with everything having gone so right, even the sticky toffee pudding was a sign.
Danny was slightly less convinced about all these signs, however I suspect he welcomed the fact that I was being distracted from having exchanged on my flat earlier that day, and that listening to me talk about destiny was preferable to listening to nostalgic stories from the last 6 years. He did however, challenge me to make it sound viable in a blog which, reading back on it, I think I may have done.