A couple of weeks ago, I posted this post about glamping in Cornwall during the wet and wild autumn months. On that same day, I spent a wonderful night holed up in number one on that list – Tree Sparrow House.
It was one of those nights where the Cornish mizzle heavily set in and the wind was howling. It was also one of those nights that I couldn’t think of anywhere I would rather be – snuggled up against the rain, in a tree, with a load of cheese, good wine and the best company a girl could ask for.
The tree house, no less than Tolkien-esque, is a little slice of heaven hidden away in deepest, darkest, can’t-get-further-away-from-the-A30 Cornwall. And it is wonderful. With a twig and branch decorated interior, a small camping stove and a bench wide enough to cosy up on whilst nibbling on goodies, it’s pretty idealistic.
A quaint little step ladder leads up to the bed(room), where a double mattress takes up the whole mezzanine floor and white sheets and fairy lights billow from the rafters above. Did someone say fairy tale?
I think it’s pretty safe bet that we’ll be back.