The largest here is the Ship Inn, just down from the main car park. A St Austell Brewery house, it offers a good range of cask beers, as well as lagers and Guinness. The place was packed at 12:30pm with those seeking an early pint. The menu was comprehensive, but I decided to wait awhile to see if something else took my fancy. There is a good atmosphere here, but it’s not really a locals’ pub, judging by the array of regional accents wafting through the air.

Almost opposite is the Cellar Bar, tucked away behind the village war memorial. As its name suggests, you go down some steps and into a smoky but atmospheric bar. The beer was, again, well kept, and the small number of customers inside meant that the barman was more than happy to spend 10 minutes chatting about the place. I left feeling aggrieved that I had the car ride home to consider.

The Harbour Tavern, right on the quayside, doesn’t give off the aura of being a particularly inviting pub from the stark and rather bland exterior, but don’t be deceived. This has recently been acquired by Skinners Brewery of Truro (please see my Truro journal), and for me, was the best in town. There were a great range of Skinners’ cracking ales, good bar staff, noisy but not overpowering background, some friendly locals, and of course, as its name suggests, a superb view of the harbour. Not to be missed.

The next port of call was the Kings Arms tucked away up one of the narrow side streets, but it was, once again, not exactly screaming at me to go inside. But in I went to find what was the real locals’ pub of the village. Initially, it was a bit like the old Babycham TV ad where the guy orders a Babycham and everyone else in the place puts their drinks down, stops talking, and turns to look at him.

This was taken as only polite curiosity, though, and I settled back to enjoy the beer, although the view of a stone wall through the nearest window wasn’t the best in the village.

Finally, I found the Fountain Inn, half hidden by flowers up a tiny alley and a worthy last stop. This is a very quaint, village-type pub with a decent selection of locals and tourists, as well as well-kept beer and a good lunch menu. I sank my paltry half and wandered back out into the afternoon sun, wishing the car was at home and I was here on holiday. Still, you can’t have it your own way all the time can you?

The village is somewhat spread out, with the principal shops scattered this way and that along narrow streets and lanes. This gives you the perfect excuse to wander freely and see what is on offer.

As you leave your car at the main car park, you will see the Old Barkhouse on the left. This is a touristy shop selling trinkets, beach gear, clothes, and anything you can think off that could have "Mevagissey" splashed across it. They are nice enough to have a quick look, but there are much better nearer the quay. Next door is Lavender Pillow, specialising in candles, joss sticks, and anything that can give off a nice smell. It’s more for the ladies, I imagine.

Venture forth another 50 yards to find Curio Corner, my favourite and a cornucopia of everything: porcelain, pottery, glass, bric-a-brac, and what many may consider to be downright junk. But it’s always full and the till is constantly ringing.

As you near the village centre, many of the premises are taken by galleries and pottery shops, mostly featuring the work of local artists. Of particular note is Phil Gardner Pottery and the rather strange mix of Cornish Coffee and Pottery, both with lovely window displays of goods for sale in striking Celtic patterns and glazes.

Needless to say, you can’t get hungry here. There are several pasty shops all offering a bewildering array of fare. The pasty was originally invented for the tin miners who spent 12 hours a day working in appalling conditions. The pasty was baked with a beef, potato, swede, and carrot filling at one end and a sweet filling at the other. The pasty was edged with a huge, thick crust with which the miners held on to whilst working with filthy hands. Everything was eaten save for the crust, which would have been by design very dirty. So you had a main course and dessert in one large "pie," after which you ditched the crust.

There are also shops selling those two other Cornish delicacies, fudge and ice cream. Many offer a mailing service to send fudge to a friend or relative back home.

Along the quayside are several gift shops and further galleries, all offering seascapes in oils and watercolours and many painted in studios overlooking the harbour.

Most of the fun here is exploring. Just when you think you’ve come to the end of the street, you turn a corner and even more awaits you. I always enjoy moseying around here, and I’m certain you will, too.

Most of the roof supports are spars from the old revenue dodgers’ boats, which were refitted or broken up on this site. There is an old lathe upstairs that would have made the replacements.

The entrance fee is just £1, and you can linger as long as you want for this princely sum. The displays feature the way life has been conducted in the village over the centuries and has well-preserved fishing gear, china clay industry implements, and a huge cider press. The walls are adorned with photographs, some of them of the very early Daguerreotype form depicting the exceptionally tough life these folk endured in the pursuit of a crust.

One gets the feeling that some of the exhibits on show have almost been thrown into the museum, but in a strange way, this only goes to heighten the reality that life back then was very hard.

Other exhibits feature a typical Cornish kitchen, along with the wondrous "Star Gazy" pie, mentioned in my Penwith Peninsula journal. There are boats hanging from the ceiling, all types of nautical paraphernalia, signal lamps, hand carved models, flags, cabinets full of clay pipes, watches, tools and coins, fishing nets, charts, agricultural machinery, spinning wheels, and a stand devoted to Andrew Pears, the village’s most famous son.

Pears was a young barber cutting hair and trimming beards in Mevagissey over 200 years ago. In 1789, he went to London, where he groomed the gentry and heeded their complaints about the effect that harsh soaps had upon their complexions. He experimented and came up with the lightest, most perfect soap for the gentry – Pears. The museum features an ad from an edition of Punch, dated from 1884, extolling the virtues of Pears’ invention.

Do make the effort to stroll along the quay and see the broader picture of life that emerges in Mevagissey via this wide collection of artifacts. A free guide leaflet is available on entry.

The village is situated about 5 miles from St Austell on the B3273, a twisting minor road that takes you through the oddly named village of London Apprentice.

The place itself is typical of a Cornish fishing village and is rather similar to Polperro, although arguably not so commercialised. Most of the local people have spent all their lives in the place; many of them tracing their ancestry back over many hundreds of years. The village boasts its own saltwater aquarium and a number of tea shops, restaurants, and pubs.

It still has a reasonably sized fishing fleet; although, like everywhere in Cornwall, this industry is in sharp decline due to quota restrictions and lack of competitiveness with the large factory ships that seem to plunder the fishing stocks at will.

Mevagissey is a lovely time warp type of a place, and to sample all of its charms will take you around half a day, unless you decide to linger longer.

It is a working double harbour with a fleet of fishing boats and has been active for hundreds of years. It is a place to come and spend the half day and relax. You will not feel compelled to visit the local church or fortification (there isn't one).