The Cornish Cosa Nostra

When we make our annual trip to Cornwall there is something rather welcoming when we pass Opies garage in Redruth.

Teapot glows as if she has just drunk a brew of Yorkshire's finest and tells me once more the story of John Opie the painter and his burial in St Paul's Cathedral, her great grandfather Opie the church army captain and the links with the mining Opies at Wendron near to Helston.

A van passes by bearing the name Opies Oils and there is magic in the atmosphere - and not just from the exhaust.

In recent trips we have come across another name whose tentacles reach out far and wide in those remote parts. There is Tiddy the estate agent. We have met Tiddy who was the postman and Tiddy the English teacher who married the surfer, and granny Tiddy all of whom seem to be related to the keeper of the most southerly cafe. A jolly soul who would have been a great stand in on "Allo Allo". ("I shall repeat this only once but I have no heavy buns. They are cooling on the rack at home". What kind of Cornish cafe is that?)

It made me wonder if the Tiddys and the Opies had come across each other in times past. A bit like the Capulets and the Montagues, or even the Jets and the Sharks.

Be that what it may up here in the Midlands the Opies and the Tiddys are the best of friends, and not even a Haribo could come between them.