There was silence as we lugged our bags down the winding cobbled lane that led to the heart of town bent double against the force eight gale and trying in vain to avoid the icy waves that smashed over the promenade There was no one on the streets and the shutters in every cottage on the waterfront were bolted tight against the battering We had watched the weather worsen as we chugged into St Ives on the tiny singletrack railway As the ominous grey skies closed in visiting Cornwall in the offseason  without a car  no longer seemed such a good idea I had lured my friend into joining me with the promise of walks along the beautiful Cornish coast and snug evenings toasting ourselves before open fires