From the moment you enter the seaside town of Port Isaac, your thoughts immediately turn to the TV series Doc Martin. While the residents are thankful for the tourists that provide income for their seaside village, I suspect most visitors only see this part of Cornwall as Portwenn, the adopted home of Dr Martin Ellingham.
Our thoughts turn to the characters we have met, and gotten to know, such as savvy entrepreneur Burt Large, the Doc's Aunt Joan, and local policeman Joe Penhale. We also think of Louisa, the headmistress of the local school, who falls in love with the haemophobic physician. Still, we love Doc Martin most of all.
Whether you make an appointment with your own doctor at the first symptoms of a disease, or only seek help once the illness has reduced you to misery, we all rely on our doctors. We are comforted by knowing they are there: ready to serve us when we call on them. When, for whatever reason, they prove unavailable, we feel their loss.
We love Doc Martin, more than our real-life doctors, because we know how hard he works for us. Every time he sees a patient, he battles his personality quirks, and his fear of blood, while doing his best to provide the best possible medical care. We understand his difficulties, and his sacrifices. And so, we follow him to this little village, in the English county of Cornwall, to see where he lives and works.
The morning my wife and I visited, the sky threatened rain. We walked around town, looked in a few shops, and took lots of photos. Eventually, our footsteps led to the harbor. Here, while my wife searched for unique shells and pebbles, I gazed at the surrounding cliffs, buildings, hillsides, and out to sea. Then I pulled out my sketch book, and got to work.
After an hour of so of sketching, my wife and I shared a Cornish Pasty, with a cherry tart for dessert. When the rain started to fall, we returned to our rental car to wait it out. I did more sketching, and my wife turned on the ignition occasionally to clear the windows. When the rain stopped, we headed back to Louisa's school, which in reality is a pub. After sharing a pot of tea, and scones with clotted cream, we took one more walk around the village, before driving back to where we were staying in Devon.
A few months later, we visited a family member in the hospital. While he was grateful for all the help he received, he did not know the doctors and nurses who attended him. Once, he asked to see my sketch book. His eyes lit up when we came across my portrayal of Port Isaac harbor. "Doc Martin," he said, with a smile.
Doctors and nurses everywhere, we may not know you like we know Doc Martin. Nonetheless, we wish you well as you minister to our needs.
Dragon Dave
