Family Reunion - Penzance to Salisbury by Annamaria Murphy
- Amanda Harris
- Jul 4
- 4 min read
June 2025
I have a multitude of cousins. My mum was one of seven.
When my brother and sister in law come back to Kernow twice a year from Canada, my brother Sean often organises a gathering of clans. This time it’s my Aunty Angela’s house in Salisbury.
Being on the train with my brother is a ticket to memories.
Bodmin Road in particular, where our dad would pick us up if we were going for the weekend. Something peculiar would always happen at Bodmin Road Station and our dad attracted the peculiar. Sometimes I wonder if I embellish these stories, but as we arrive at Bodmin Road, Sean says “Do you remember the parrot?”
And I do. I’ve written about it in a previous blog post.
Our dad was late and there was just Sean, aged 8, me and a parrot in a cage on Platform 2. It kept shouting “Get out Caroline”, or some such phrase.
Our other joint childhood train memories were the bus from Polperro to Looe. The beauty of the Looe to Liskeard branch line which hugs the estuary, then Liskeard to Plymouth, mostly to go the Dingles Christmas Grotto, which to us was a thing of wonder and magic but may have been just a few old curtains and some fairy lights.
The Reunion
My Aunty Angela is glorious. A Jane Fonda lookalike without having had to have ‘work’ done. Sharp of wit and elegant. We are also blessed with my Aunty Mary, 92, a great granny, still curious about the world. The aunties are the queens of the day.
Sixteen of us are gathered today, and two more by zoom.
This my family come from very humble beginnings. There must have been something about that tiny house in Cardiff, nine in all if all gathered, that made them venture out into the world.
Amongst us cousins and their partners are:
Nurses.
Occupational therapists.
Radiographers
Teachers
Trade unionists
Musicians, artists, writers, illustrators, makers of stain glass, historians and keepers of the family histories.
A toast is raised to those who are gone.
And from the fragments of conversations I learn things I didn’t know. Nothing momentous, but colour to the uncertain memories. Like, when I was a baby, my mum and dad tried to make a go of it in Cardiff. Dad sold ice creams and they lived in a tiny flat above a shop that had a life sized stuffed bear outside it.
I remember when trains had compartments with sliding doors and long seats and our mother taking us to Cardiff to visit her family. My Aunty Joan had a serving hatch, and this to me was a thing of wonder.
Our granny, still in the tiny terrace where they were all born, would always slip us a fiver, even though she had nothing.
And there were cousins. Everywhere it seemed. And how we loved the cousins. And how we still do.
Until the next time.
Thank you Anna for sharing your glorious reunion and the wonderful, glamourous photo of your mum and aunt; Jane Fonda would be honoured!
May 2025
Redruth to Plymouth - day trip
I now meet quite regularly with the Women Speak Volumes writers group who bring great delight and also wisdom, as well as giving me courage to keep scribbling ... They also give me the excuse to go to Plymouth.
Redruth Station was lively with the converging of rugby fans. I had time to drop in on Caroline in the café who was very proud that she had been nominated for the Women in Cornwall exhibition at the new Penryn Art Centre (the exhibition has now moved to Kresen Kernow in Redruth). Anna and I are also both very chuffed to have been nominated amongst some very illustrious women both contemporary and from history, ranging from scientists, medics, entrepreneurs, writers, artists, organisers etc. For more info https://www.artcentrepenryn.org/womenofcornwall
Plymouth was full of surprises that day. We met in the Plymouth Proprietary Library about a five minute walk from the train station away from the city centre. It is a book-filled jewel that I had never even heard of before. Specialising in fiction, memoir and local history, it even has a 'cosy crime corner' with very inviting comfy chairs and flowers. The library used to be in the centre of Plymouth but it was bombed during the war and much of its vast collection was destroyed. It is one of a network of private libraries including the wonderful Morrab Library in Penzance and the Tavistock Library. Such a fabulous place and the librarian was so welcoming. Think we could have happily stayed all evening! https://www.theppl.org.uk/
I also dropped into The Box for a quick look at their temporary exhibition not knowing what to expect. I was captivated by the work of the artist Jyll Bradley in her exhibition 'Running and Returning', covering three decades of work . The creativity, bravery and honesty in her explorations of self and identity were quite breathtaking especially her short films. She grew up in a hop growing region and the shape of the plants have had a huge impact on her sculpture. I really recommend a visit and hope to go back https://www.theboxplymouth.com/events/exhibitions/jyll-bradley-running-and-returning
And finally a reminder to us all on a poster outside the Arts University Plymouth.
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