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Duncan's Cows
It is always interesting to read the comments visitors leave at tourist destinations.
Chindu Sreedharan comment 0 Comments access_time 2 min read

It is always interesting to read the comments visitors leave at tourist destinations. They offer a window into the soul of the place, I believe—well, at least into the souls of those who visit.

The visitor’s book at Black Head, an unmanned concrete structure the National Trust has built on a cliff-edge not too far from Coverack for the pleasure of birdwatchers, nature enthusiasts and coastal path walkers, was full of soul. It is amazing how a stunning coast can move people to extreme eloquence:

“Rocky.”

“Amazing.”

“Wet.”

“Nice.”

“Yep.”

It made some others whiny:

“I am tired to do anything.”

“I am really thirsty!”

“Awful hot in here!”

“Our feet hurt.”

Sarah, John and Nicky, who came from “England + China”, put down the driving force behind their visit: “Looking fer pub!”

Nice was angry about the non-availability of pubs on the coastal path. She wrote, “Not a pub since Cadgwith!”

Anna and Ralph wrote, “Dolphins, Dolphins, Dolphins!”

Biba did not believe them. So she drew an arrow to their comment and wrote beneath, “Questionable….”

The biggest soul who filled the book, however, belonged to Duncan, who listed himself as from the Blackhead Farm. He was a frequent visitor, who treated the book as a personal diary. On his latest visit, on 14 August, he had written:“Looking At my cows.”

Flicking back a few pages, I found him again. “With my Ruby Reds”

And again. “Here to see my cows”

On 22 July, Duncan shared, “Out to see my cows”

On 18 July he was happy. Underneath a smiley face he wrote, “Come to see my cows”

On 26 April, Duncan did not come to see his cows. Instead he came, “Looking for my Dog”

I flicked through the book, and there was Duncan every few pages, out to see his cows (probably with his dog), making himself heard among Norwegians, Germans, Swiss, Australians, Kiwis, and of course Brits. Sadly, no Indian had written in the book yet.

I turned to the last page. Picking up the blue pen the kind National Trust folks had left, I wrote, “I saw Duncan’s cows. They are beautiful.”

England Hiking Nature Nonfiction SWCP

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