This afternoon as I took Polly for a good walk (a “stank” if you’re from around these parts) it struck me how many people I’ve heard saying how horrible winter is, and just what they’re missing.

Down on Gwenver in November – can’t beat it!

OK, the wind is howling as the tail of latest named storm Barney whips across west Cornwall, but it’s not cold – there are still hardy St Just lads out in their shorts, although that doesn’t include me.

Even if it were cold, there’s not a lot that can beat the exhilaration of getting out in the weather.

I saw my first daffodils this afternoon. Now, there’s something not right about that, surely they shouldn’t be in flower before it has even gotten cold?

How early? Quivering in the wind, a daffodil in November.

But daffodils aside, Polly and I had the cob webs blown out well and truly as we battled against the wind between Wheal Owls and Carn Kenidjack.

Wheal Owls with The Crown Mines in the background, and Geevor headgear.

Once we turned inland, and thereby turned our backs against the wind we felt the benefit of our effort and I could unzip my jacket and unbutton my shirt, while Polly leapt in a stream, more from exuberance than a desire to cool down I suspect.

St Just from New Road.

At The Cornish Way, cottages like Tregiffian Barn and Myn Tea face into the teeth of most gales no matter what they’re called, while Trevena Cross and to an extent New Forge offer good protection from the worst of the weather. The Old Dairy is in between, sheltered, but only just. Yet every one is warm and toasty inside, especially once you’ve lit the woodburners.

It’s a great time to head to the far west if you can get away for a week, or even a long weekend. Availability is good, accommodation is less expensive, and you can even go to St Ives without feeling crowded out.

Get out there in the most exciting weather Britain can throw at you, and then come back to a gorgeous cottage where you can light the fire and listen to the wind howl from the safety of your granite hideaway.