Well, this is random.
At the moment I am sitting in a hotel that is actually called "Camelot", perched high on a cliff on the Cornish coast . . . directly next to the ruined castle which is the legendary birthplace of King Arthur!

So far so good. But I really wish that I could recreate for you the unbelievable ambiance of this place. The setting is gorgeous, the ruined castle is amazing, the legends are crazy, the cliffs are breathtaking, and I am sitting in "Camelot Castle" in the lobby . . . which is playing a Bon Jovi cd rather quietly. Sort of humming to itself really. It's basically deserted in here (the only room in the castle with internet) and at the moment old Bon Jovi is going down in a blaze of glory. A second ago he was a cowboy with a steel horse, and then he was laying down in a bed of roses. Oh! Now he's trying to avoid commitment and he's warning us about it. This place is hilarious . . . like a one-time glamorous lake cabin that underwent refurbishment in the '70s by someone who liked to hang their own paintings in every room. (Literally.) I haven't actually encountered macramé, but I haven't seen the whole place yet.
Anyway, we decided on the spur of the moment to come down here . . . at about 3:00 this afternoon. I brought the kids down here for the afternoon a couple years ago, but Ben's never been - so this is a fantastic chance for him to see the ruined castle on the cliff.

We took the path down the cliffs and over to the castle this evening, and I very randomly happened to have a homemade apple pie which we threw into the car at the last minute before we left . . . so we sat and ate pie and watched the sun set over the ocean.
And, silly as the hotel is in many respects, check out this bed:

And, speaking of bed . . . I'm off now. (Bon Jovi is having some bad medicine now, so it's time for me to leave.)