Bridget Hugh-Jones’ Bakewell Tart

I LOVE the sound of seagulls calling, squalling, squabbling and chasing each other for fun or a wriggly fish — it reminds me of holidays in Tramore as a child, ice-cream cones, sand buckets, little fishing nets, and picnics by the Metal Man.

I’m in Cornwall for a few days, staying in an enchanting little fishing village called Mousehole, which we quickly learned is pronounced ‘Mousel’ after we asked for directions to Mouse Hole and got the same sort of amused looks that tourists to these parts get when they ask for Cob (Cobh) or Yoo-gal (Youghal).

Cornwall is an enchanting place. I love any excuse to meander through the narrow lanes, lie on the beaches or potter through the pretty villages.