Sunday 13th September, 2009.

This is Falmouth Harbour. Nice, isn't it? A bit of sunshine does wonders. Just as the Weather Channel predicted, the weather began to clear up overnight and things are looking up. Things are also looking up on the hotel room front. We've re-packed all our bags, left them in our room, and the nice English Manager (who wasn't so nice when he told David that the Wolves had lost at Blackburn) says that everything will be taken to our new room by the time we return. So, after a breakfast at Beth's Special Tea's we drove south down the R130 to Falmouth.

Having sussed out the ferry for tomorrow's trip to Martha's Vineyard and found a parking spot (not as easy at it sounds as most are for permit holders) we take a walk around the harbour. Then, as it is now well after one o'clock, we decide to push the boat out (no pun intended) and have a meal at a quite posh, but not very posh, fish restaurant with a balcony overlooking the harbour. Here, Howard and Vicky are tucking into some bread and cranberry juice as we await the arrival of our mains. It's a very good meal. Not particularly cheap but not overly-expensive either. One of the best meals we've had since we've been here (and we can count those on less that the fingers of one hand). The fish is battered, we grant you, but only lightly so. Not like the awful mushy batter that modern British fish and chip shops serve up nowadays.

After lunch, we drag ourselves away from the view and drive to a beach to the south of town. Here, David is meeting some of the locals. Although, judging from everyones body posture, this could be the onset of a proverbial unilateral cold shoulder.

Heading west we stop by this lighthouse just off the road between Falmouth and Wood's Hole. You have no idea, from looking at this, just how long we had to wait to get a shot without any other scrotes in it. Bl**dy tourists. And they wear such garish outfits as well. They'd spoil any photo given half the chance.

We would have liked to have seen more of Wood's Hole but there's nowhere to park. Well, what did we expect? It is a sunny Sunday. So we head back to Falmouth and park at the beginning of the High Street (shown here). It's quite nice as High Streets go. But it's nothing we haven't seen before elsewhere in New England. Obviously, these quaint New England buildings are losing their allure so, after an ice cream, we get back to the car and head home, the way we came, to Sandwich.

True to the hotel's word, we are now in room 45. On the top floor (third) and with it's own balcony. At least we can air the room in the evenings now. If this is the hotel's best room (and clearly, they are very proud of it) it still isn't as good as the room we had in Boston, Salem, or the White Mountains. We conclude that the hotel must have had it's last renovation sometime in the '60's. It's next one is now long overdue.