HRT and a pint of Guinness. A story from a wall, somewhere near some mines in West Cornwall ……. With a miniature film crew in the distance! 

Yes, it’s official. We’re all mad! Admittedly, some madder than others but to a greater or lesser degree universally certifiable! I am of course referring to Aidan’s Maidens, a gorgeously bonkers group of women of varying ages but with a definite post menopausal bias.  Today we sat on a wall , well two walls actually ( so as not to get bored or acquire piles you understand), we sat on these two walls for most of the daylight and some twilight hours and stared through binoculars at “Himself”& the “Dishy Doc” and other actors plying their trade and thoughtfully regaled one another with minutiae of observations. 

These varied from the presence or absence of a tricorn hat, the positioning of horses and what Mr T might be quaffing from the “modern blue mug”. The poor man couldn’t have sneaky vape without it being communicated to the onlookers.   Having said that, my gosh it was all so funny and good humoured and without exception those involved were true fans who helped spot Papparazzi and reported the use of long lenses to security. The camaraderie between us meant that the day seemed to fly by.  In fact it’s just a teensy bit like a group of mums at the school gate having a catch up, except that the kids never rush out to meet us opened armed and we spend a good deal longer chatting and a lot less rushing back to make dinner for our families! 

One of our number sent the coded “Fish n Chips for tea!” back to her husband at 5.30, which he knew meant “don’t expect me back any time soon”, another shrugged and said “he’s off to the club!”and I had the feeling there must be a string of busy chippies and local pubs making a killing out of the general absence of womenfolk up and down the duchy.  Do they mind I wonder? One husband comforted his wife on an aborted film viewing last week that her tidied hair and reapplied lipstick was obviously for his benefit and they billed and cooed all the way back to their hotel suite and others take full advantage of the extended walking and museum viewing time to get their own best experience out of a holiday in Cornwall.  It seems to be a general advantage to all.  

Around 6ish we were beginning to feel an early evening chill but no one made any attempt to leave. “We are all entirely certifiable!” I remarked ” what on earth are we actually doing?, why are we still here?”.The answer was “something tall, dark and Irish!”. “What? A Guinness?”.  Tall, dark, slow to pull and even longer to settle but nevertheless exceptionally smooth and worth the wait.  The utterly beautiful absurdity of it all must be giving those on set great side bet opportunities all round.  Who will leave first? Who will keel over and pass out? If we don’t wrap till after dark will they all get out tents and duvets and camp the night?  

Fortunately even the cast and crew were spared that and our merry throng was rewarded with waves and selfies and autographs from certain members of the cast.  “Himself”, who had had a long and tiring day was gracious enough to keep his limo window down for a drive past which seemed to satisfy most and the day ended with smiles, embraces and “see you tomorrow”s.  Apparently laundry and the weekly shop is going to have to wait again! Viva emancipation! Viva Poldark! Another day on the wall! Better bring my binoculars too then, it’s going to be a long one! 

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