The island has housed various monasteries, but before that it possibly had a role in the Cornish tin trade. No one seems to know for sure when it became an island, as several dates have been given for its flooding throughout history. The land and the buildings have been under the ownership of the same noble family since 1659, but visitor access and care of the buildings is largely controlled by the National Trust, of which I am now a member. A fool and his money, etc. £1,260 poorer, but at least I got a nice little pin to wear, as a badge of financial idiocy.
All St Michael's pics here.
Lots of beach and a narrow causeway to the left.
Almost under water when I walked there.
The road one hour later.
Effin impressive building.
The gardens were closed, sadly. Oh, who am I kidding? I don't give a fuck about gardens.
This model of the castle grounds was made by the family butler, entirely out of champagne corks. ONLY in England, and ONLY among a certain class of people. I absolutely loved it, of course.
Lovely interior. I apologize for the low quality of some of the pics, but flash photograpy was verboten. Did you know that top nazi Von Ribbentrop had his eyes set on St Michael's, and would have made it his residence had the Krauts won the war?
Lovely, lovely.
Makes kaboom.
Makes a lot more kaboom.
The boat ride from the island to the main land was made all the worse by the fucker at the rudder who deliberately swerved around several times because he knew one of the passengers.
I can haz cheeseburger?
Fresh flowers. I like that the British still take care to remember their heroes.
The ever-present War memorial. "Abide with me. Fast falls the eventide".
My sentiments exactly. Rats with wings.
Lillicrap? Seriously?
That depends entirely upon the people in question, of course. For central Paris I suggest a speed limit of 80mph. 90 in fog.
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