I am Cornwall. I am the opposite of your 24/7, open-all-night world. Leave your expectations and preconceptions behind you. I am an immersive, sensory experience.

I am Kernow, my name in my native tongue of Cornish. My towns are spelled one way and pronounced another. Ask. Do not assume you know the pronunciation. In fact, do not assume you know me. I am Cornwall. I am an experience.

I am Cornwall. I am green for miles owing to my moderate climate and yes, the rain. Come visit me in the spring. I will bless you with bluebells, and rhododendrons and azaleas of white and orange and pink. With ferns beginning to unfurl, and trees hundreds of years old. 

I am Cornwall. Give me your respect, and I will give you my beauty. My gardens at Helligan, Lanhydrock, and the Eden Project stand as testament to what man and nature can co-create when we work together.

I am Cornwall. The green of my land gives way to white sand beaches. Take time to listen to the waves coming in to shore. Feel your blood pressure drop.

Need more energy? Walk along my rocky cliffs and feel the waves crash into stony sentries.

I am Cornwall. I am a land of hills and valleys. If you find my pathways steep, remember each step brings you closer to heaven.

I am Cornwall. Notice me. My footpaths are built on uneven stone. Not to trick you or trip you, but to help you get into your feet and closer to me. To be present to the earth beneath you. For I am Cornwall and I am the land.

I am Cornwall. I have a backstory. I am scarred by mining for tin, China clay, and slate. See the arsenic tubes at Botallack, where a by-product of tin mining proved profitable until its poisonous legacy became known.

Even the ubiquitous pasty shops are mirrors to my past. When you bite into your steak and onion think of the hundreds of hard-working tin miners who sacrificed their health and lives in pursuit of an available livelihood.

I am Cornwall. The estates you will visit are also relics of an earlier age. Great mining wealth built the stone edifices with ornate furnishings of the “one percenters.” Yet, wealth is fleeting. The “Downton Abbey” place settings in the dining hall at Lanhydrock are now maintained by the National Trust—and your entry fees.

I am Cornwall. Though my miners now rest in peace my maritime communities remain. Savor the bounty of the ocean that surrounds me, for the sea is also Cornwall.

I am Cornwall. I am a land of legends. The romance of King Arthur is the essence of Tintagel. Further south, 19 granite ladies form a circle in tribute to the mythology of the Merry Maidens. Unlike their sisters at Stonehenge, no boundaries encircle them. You may freely touch stones holding 4,000 years of history.

Do you feel a certain energy around the maidens? Great. Do you feel nothing? Great. I am Cornwall. I will give you what you need.

I am Cornwall. Notice what resonates with you. Is it the flora in bloom? Is it fishing boats snuggled in safe harbor? Is it waves dashing on the rocks? Is it friendly banter with restaurant servers and shopkeepers? Know that what speaks to you will reveal yourself to you.

I am Cornwall. If you leave your footprints on my land, I will leave my imprint on your soul. Neither of us will be the same.

I am Cornwall. Come experience me for yourself.

— Diane Thome, May 2025, Itinerary 1