Today we are in a Cornwall cafe, the Smugglers. It’s inspired by life on the beach, surfing waves and getting your hair bleached by the sun. Only problem is that the nearest beaches, discounting the nearby mud banks of the River Thames, are many many miles away. 
We are actually in Putney in central London. Nevertheless, Chrissie, who owns this place, has a soft spot for Cornwall and is determined that the Smugglers Cafe should make people feel a little bit of that Cornwall vibe.
“Cornish Smugglers” conjures up a somewhat romantic notion of hardy folk trying to get the better of overzealous excise men. In London, however, we suspect it might have somewhat darker overtones. Fortunately, the decor of surfboards and photos of bronzed beach-ready bodies went some way towards lifting our mood as the rain did its best to come through the plate glass of the Smugglers Cafe window.
The cafe itself is tiny but the staff are welcoming and soon had us fixed up with a delicious lunch. After that, we could not risk a scone each so we shared a cream tea. Our tea came from Cornwall, grown on the Tregothnan estate (the only tea grown in England) and the Origin coffee is roasted there as well, in Helston. Never been to Cornwall so our knowledge is limited.
Need to go
We know though that it’s the home of the ubiquitous Rodda’s Cornish Cream, the bane of our lives. We also know that it is the home of a kind and civilised people who stoically tolerate their brutish neighbours in Devon spreading cream first on their scones. 
There was plenty of both jam and cream with our scone and we were in no doubt which was to go on first. The fresh raspberries and blueberries were a nice touch. The scone itself, however, was a bit of a disappointment. Just a bit stodgy and certainly not what we expected from a good Cornish scone. Perhaps we need to actually go to Cornwall?
99 to go
T
here were lots of nice homely touches in the Smugglers Cafe. On our table there was a tiny green bucket with little discs inside. It was 100 Extreme Things to Do Before You Kick The Bucket … great! Almost the first one we pulled out was Go On A Blind Date, eh? We did that nearly 50 years ago … and we’re still on it! How on earth are we supposed to get round to the other 99?
Recycling?
This week has been bittersweet … we finished the Christmas cake on the train coming down to London. Pat baked it and I iced and marzipan it with the indispensable assistance of a couple of granddaughters. Pat is not that keen but I am very keen on Christmas cake so when I say ‘we’ finished it I really mean ‘I’ finished it. That’s it gone for another year … boo! Christmas, of course, has other after-effects. Today there is much talk of the need to recycle. Indeed it has taken over our lives. Knowing what goes in which bin and when it goes out has become a sort of art form. People who actually know these things are regarded as truly wise oracles, surreptitiously consulted by their bewildered neighbours.
We buy masses of plastic castles, farmyards and other lumps of plastic just to keep our little angels momentarily happy. It is all then stuffed in a cupboard to be thrown out the following year to make way for even more stuff. Never mind the energy it takes to produce all this rubbish, when we try to recycle plastic it takes lots more energy. Either that or it goes to landfill. It’s ironic that in attempting to get some short term gratification from our children we actually end up helping destroy their future. The smart thing to do, of course, is not to recycle but not to buy in the first place! The children won’t mind. Especially if you explain that having a non-plastic Christmas might make it worthwhile going to the effort of growing up.
They may even get to Cornwall and enjoy that vibe!
SW151JT. Tel: Smugglers
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