IN  PRAISE  OF  BUDEHAVEN

 by Lucille Opie

Of a majestic yet restless beauty I speak

Cornwall’s northern coastline is unique,

The westerly winds hit hard in winter

Twisting the trees to shapes most sinister.

The Atlantic pounds into the land

With cruel, unrelenting destruction to sand,

But its location to the Atlantic makes Bude a haven

On this unfriendly coast where refuge is craven.

The rivers Neet and Strat flow down

Sweeping and surging through the town.

The Petrified Forest beneath Crooklets beach

A reminder of prehistory within reach.

At  Maer Lake, migrating birds in flight

Swoop and soar to ethereal height.

Rock strata studied by geologists worldwide

Incredibly awesome from the beach at low tide.

The history of the town is not so old,

 Has taken four centuries to unfold,

Though there is evidence of prehistoric man

Proof, the Tumulii on the land.

Blanchminster the lord is well renowned,

His castle Binhamy still evident near town

His Trust Fund paid for six hundred years

To deserving people to allay their fears.

The Turnpike Acts of the seventeen hundreds

Brought the stagecoach, tho’ roads were hazardous.

That set in motion improvement to the roads,

People ventured further from their abodes.

Coaching Inns then came into place

To feed the horses - and the human race!

The Falcon, Globe & Carriers of fame,

All still serving, and with the same name.

The Canal, unique as it is locked to the sea

Was opened in eighteen twenty three.

For two miles it meanders to the Incline Plane

A feat of engineering the Victorians rightly claim.

Navigable only to Marhamchurch today,

There’s beauty & wild life enough on display

For both locals & visitors, when time for leisure

Boating, fishing, walking – give much pleasure.

Along with the canal the breakwater was set

Saved many a ship from being wrecked.

The railway came in eighteen ninety eight,

Victorians set the fashion, a holiday to take,

Total immersion in sea water much sought

Health giving & pleasurable it was thought.

Later, the Grenville rose up in Bellevue,

Quite decadent, with ballroom and awe-inspiring view.

From Summerleaze & Efford  the view of the sea

Breathtakingly beautiful, a wondrous place to be.

Inhale the atmosphere that lifts one on high

Gaze at the blue Atlantic against azure sky.

Taste the salt in the air with oxygen so pure

Unique wild flowers grow that look quite demure

In purples and reds and yellows and blues,

A wide range of colour of delicate hues.

Sit and watch the cricket, hear the crack of the bat,

Listen for the bowler to shout ‘Howzat’?

Wander north to Northcott, quite unspoiled land,

Catch crustaceans in rock pools, or picnic on the sand.

Saunter south along the cliff path to Widemouth Bay,

‘The breakers all of twelve feet’ the surfers say!

Visit Sir Gurney’s castle, built on sand,

Who proved the impossible, as still it stands

Strong & proud, pivotal of the town,

A reminder of his brilliance that knew no bounds.

Bude is a rural town way out in the sticks,

Neighbours help each other if they’re in a fix.

Here the ‘Bush telegraph’ is second to none,

Better than any e-mail when alls said and done!

I could go on, there is so much more

To this wonderful town beside the shore

Where its location to the Atlantic makes it a haven

On this unfriendly coast where refuge is craven.