I had heard of Gurney stoves, and always assumed that harvest festivals were an ancient tradition, but until this week, I had no idea that both were invented by eccentric Cornishmen living on a remote stretch of the county's wildest and most dramatic shore.
Here, narrow lanes with high stone walls are dotted with primroses in spring and foxgloves in summer and lead into steep wooded valleys and over rolling maritime grassland. The coast is rugged and treacherous, with spectacular rock formations – barrel-shaped folds of rock, diagonal strata, zigzag chevron patterns, stripy layers of pale sandstone and dark siltstone.
The Cornish side of my family has farmed on this coast for 200 years, and the non-Cornish side has been coming here on holiday since 1900, but I had no idea that harvest festivals were invented in the 19th century at Morwenstow church. Stephen Hawker arrived in 1834, Morwenstow's first vicar for more than a century. He devoted his life to converting local smugglers, wreckers and looters into a congregation of lifesavers, who warned ships away from the rocks, gave drowned sailors Christian burials – and celebrated harvests.
Hawker was delightfully dotty, dressing in red coat, pink fez and yellow horse-blanket poncho, posing on rocks in mermaid costume, inviting his nine cats to church services (excommunicating them if they moused on a Sunday) and taking his pet pig for walks. He had two happy marriages, at 19 to his 40-year-old godmother, and then at 60 to a girl of 20.
From Morwenstow churchyard and Hawker's turreted rectory, I strolled to the coast footpath. Far below me, Atlantic waves churned and crashed against the rocks. Farther out, swirls of glittering blue-green faded to a fuzzy horizon that my Cornish grandmother would say heralds fine weather.
Soon I reached the National Trust's smallest property, Hawker's Hut, perched on a cliff and built entirely of driftwood. Here Hawker composed sermons, watched for shipwrecks and wrote romantic poems such as The Song of the Western Men, now adopted as the Cornish anthem. He also smoked opium and conversed with Saint Morwenna, the fifth-century princess who built a church with her own hands and gave her name to the parish.
The next day, the wind got up and the incoming tide looked perfect for surfing. I headed for Bude's beautiful Summerleaze beach with my ancient plywood surfboard. Old fashioned as my board may look, it is streamlined compared with the coffin-like box on which my grandmother rode the waves before the First World War.
To warm up after my swim, I visited Bude Castle, built on Summerleaze sandhills by Sir Goldsworthy Gurney. Few have heard of this Cornish genius, a contemporary of Hawker (they both died in 1875). To prove that it was possible to build on shifting sand, he designed his castle on a specially invented concrete base, and it is still standing 178 years later.
Sir Goldsworthy was an extraordinary polymath – architect, agriculturalist, surgeon, scientist, pianist and inventor. His Bude limelight was so bright that one lamp, reflected through mirrors, illuminated his entire castle. Three Bude lights replaced 280 candles in the Houses of Parliament, lasting until electricity was installed 60 years later. Sir Goldsworthy's system of flashing lighthouses is still in use and his Gurney stoves survive in several cathedrals to this day. Sir Goldsworthy, knighted in old age by Queen Victoria, invented blastpipes, steam engines, mine ventilation, fire extinguishers, musical instruments, heating, lighthouse signals, electric telegraph and limelight, but he veered between success and bankruptcy.
Next, I explored the Bude canal, which has been dredged and restored to make a lovely inland walk. Away from the wild coast, Bude's hinterland is calm and peaceful. Sir Goldsworthy contributed to early designs for the canal, a revolutionary project to link the Bristol and English Channels via the River Tamar. The canal never reached the Tamar's navigable stretches, but was a superb feat of engineering. Today, the canal's nature reserve contains Cornwall's largest reed beds, home to otters, dormice, and a host of rare birds and plants.
While Hawker and Sir Goldsworthy were living their extraordinary lives, and my Cornish relations were farming, Bude turned from a fishing harbour and small port into a fashionable Victorian seaside resort. In 1847, Tennyson visited and was inspired to write his Cornish "Idylls of the King".
Later, the Atlantic Coast Express railway brought my non-Cornish relations and other well-heeled visitors direct from London, and Bude's attractions included a sea pool, art-deco cinema, three golf courses and a series of huge hotels. However, decline followed, the final blow the closure of the railway in 1966.
Bude today may have lost its classy clientele, but it is a friendly, low-key little town filled with the mouthwatering aroma of hot pasties. Summerleaze beach is a beautiful sweep of fine sand, with fishing boats pulled up on the tideline, children playing with buckets and spades, and wet-suited surfers riding the rolling waves.
As gulls squawked overhead, I wandered past whitewashed cottages with slate roofs, along modest terraces of pebbledash and palm trees, and into small locally owned shops. I stopped for elevenses at the Falcon Hotel, established in 1798 as an inn for sea captains. The waitress confided proudly that Tennyson broke his ankle here in 1847.
Chapel Rock, on the harbour breakwater, is all that remains from the days when Bude was just a chapel on a rock, where a bede, or holy man, lit lamps to guide ships in from Cornwall's most treacherous coast. But today the town is taking renewed pride in its unique cultural and natural heritage.
Sir Goldsworthy's eccentric castle-built-on-sand has been restored, with an excellent museum and a restaurant where I had lunch. Over coffee, I read one of Hawker's bloodthirsty ballads – Croon from Hennacliff – about shipwrecked bodies washing up at Bude. The next time I go to a harvest festival, or visit a warm cathedral, I shall remember these two inspired Cornishmen, and the beautiful landscape that was their home.
WHERE TO STAY
The Falcon Hotel (01288 352005; www.falconhotel.com ), with a lovely walled garden, has doubles from £59. Elements Hotel Café Bar (01288 352386; www.elements-life.co.uk ) is Bude’s only boutique hotel (with restaurant), on the coast path just south of the town. Eight of the 11 rooms have sea views. Double b&b from £95; residential surfing courses are available.
FURTHER INFORMATION
Bude Visitor Centre (01288 354240; www.visitbude.info ).
The Castle, Heritage Centre, Gallery and Restaurant (01288 357300; www.bude-stratton.gov.uk ); adults £3.50, concessions £3, children £2.50; open daily except Christmas and New Year, Easter-Oct 31 10-5pm, Nov 1-Easter 10-4pm.
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