It was a beautiful winter day, full of sunshine and the promise of good weather to come. But the days Questing had started out quite disappointingly.

Whilst out and about visiting friends, my husband and I had decided to take both of our instruments to a small Holy Well which was only just mentioned on a large OS map of Cornwall. However, when we got there it was nothing more than a leak in a privately owned field, with mud everywhere and a huge stile to negotiate. The owner was rather apologetic especially once he realised that we intended to play there. However, there was no way that I could get my harp safely across to the site of the spring even if there had been a dry spot to stand on, so we turned homewards.

It seemed we were not meant to play that day, and I was going to put this down as an Attempted Quest Adventure.

However, as we made our way back across Cornwall, a small brown heritage road sign caught our eyes and having nothing better to do, we decided to follow it. If you have ever driven in the West Country you will know what I mean when I say that the roads were tiny, and at one point I wondered if we were being told to go round in circles!

But it was all worth our while. Eventually, we found ourselves parked on the farm yard of Dupath Farm which owns the land and is partial custodian of Dupath Holy Well.

And what an amazing site! Just past the cow shed, where the wet black noses and long pink tongues of the calves poked their way out to greet any passing body, and only ½ mile from a main road, there stood the remarkably preserved granite well~house. Originally built in the early 1500's near to an earlier (now sadly lost) chapel, this beautiful restored medieval structure contains a shallow basin to hold the gently running waters of a small well. According to tradition, these waters help to cure whooping cough, lung complaints and were no doubt used as part of the baptism of new Christians.

However, earlier legends talk of this being the place of a great battle between two Saxon Chiefs. Both suitors for the hand of an un-named maiden fair, Gotlieb had the support of the maidens' father, whilst Colan was the choice of the lady herself. Over many days the battle raged with both Saxon nobles taking many wounds. Eventually, Gotlieb was slain and the lady's hand was won by her love. But her happiness was short lived as Colan too died of his wounds, but not before building the well to commemorate the mighty battle.

Setting up our instruments in the sunshine, the beauty and quiet of this lovely well~house belied the violence of the original legend. The gentle waters trickled away through the trough and into the field beyond, and I began to hesitantly play my harp. The acoustics were wonderful and added to the tranquil atmosphere, it made this leg of my Quest very restful. A group of metal detectorists passed by on their way to a nearby field. They stayed for a while, chatting and discussing the intricacies of digging for treasure and the use of various woods for instrument making, before continuing on their journey.

Unfortunately, my hand had been extremely painful and although I tried for some time, I was unable to coax as much as I would have liked out of my sympathetic little harp. I felt very stilted and unlike the waters of the well, couldn't find my own flow. Finally, I dipped my hand in the cool water, and asked for some healing from the spirit of the well.

We left after an hour, the sounds of the farm reminding us that the modern world was calling us back. It had been a very difficult day for me, but I accepted that this is all part of the Quest process. My husband had certainly enjoyed himself being official photographer, Harp Hunk and general all~round musical assistant. Maybe this Quest date hadn't been for me at all . . .

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