Last updated 1 year ago
"At the far end of England, a land of rocks and moorland stretches itself out into a blue-green sea. Between its high headlands lie tiny sheltering harbours where the fishing boats hide when the winter storms are blowing. One of these harbours is so small and the entrance between its great stone breakwaters is so narrow that fishermen called it "the Mousehole". The people who lived in the cottages around the harbour grew fond of the name and they call their village Mousehole to this day."