The Flickr Enginehouse Image Generatr

Looking out over the sea from the coast at Botallack, Cornwall

Looking out over the sea from the coast at Botallack, Cornwall

The Crowns enginehouses at Botallack, Cornwall

Looking out over the sea from the coast at Botallack, Cornwall

Looking out over the sea from the coast at Botallack, Cornwall

Afternoon sky over the mine engine houses at Botallack, on the "Tin Coast" of Cornwall

A monochrome edit of the Bellingham's Shaft pumping engine house at Wheal Jenkins.

This engine house once pumped water to the upper reaches of the park; nowadays it is a cafe.

Grade II listed building, part of the Ding Dong mine complex. Built in 1865 as production shifted from east to west. Last active in 1877.

Grade II listed building, part of the Ding Dong mine complex. Built in 1865 as production shifted from east to west. Last active in 1877.

Sunset over the sea off Botallack, on the "Tin Coast" of Cornwall. "The Crowns" mines enginhouses are silhouetted in the foreground.

You’ll be relieved to learn that I'm not planning on going into party politics, or running the country. I have no interest in kissing other people's babies in front of the television cameras or dressing up in scrubs to visit a newly opened hospital wing, whilst trying to persuade you how much more money we’re pumping into the National Health Service in real terms. Nor do I wish to have tea and biscuits with the Great Orange Toddler of the West as we discuss what to do about the Dark Lord of the East who hides in the shadows and quietly bumps off anyone with democratic intentions, or exactly how much extra tax to add to imports from the Holy Penguin Empire of the Southern Ocean. I have no desire to be grilled by the leader of the opposition about the balance of payments deficit and the alarming increase in national debt every Wednesday lunchtime, and I'd like to go to bed before midnight and not get up at four each morning. I’d prefer to watch Match of the Day on a Saturday night without worrying about the enormous pile of papers to the left of me that I'm supposed to have fully formed opinions on before that emergency cabinet meeting the Chief Whip has called for eight tomorrow morning. Apparently some of the backbenchers have concerns about the PM and are planning a motion of no confidence. But I’ve often wondered whether it might be better if somebody who doesn’t actually want to be Prime Minister takes on the job. Someone who does something because it’s right, rather than worrying about whether it will get them booted out of office next time. So just in case this ever actually happens, I thought I should start working on my manifesto. It's better to be prepared. But you should probably vote for somebody else if I'm honest. I'm not certain I have the drive and ambition to run the country. I’m not even entirely sure what it is I believe in. But anyway, here goes. I've made a start.

If I were Prime Minister, I would listen carefully to the experts before making decisions about anything other than which socks to wear each morning. There are pub philosophers who think their opinion holds the same value as that of the highly educated and experienced person who has spent a lifetime leading His Majesty’s armed forces, or running the Bank of England. They think they’re equally qualified to comment as the consultant who has saved thousands of lives in the operating theatre or my learned counsel prosecuting the bad guys at the bar, because they read the tabloids and watch SAS Rogue Heroes, Casualty and Judge Judy. Or because they saw something about it on Falsebook. They don't. And neither do I. Experts are experts because of years of successful dedication to their chosen field, not because they shout the loudest in the Dog and Duck. And when things go wrong, I can blame the chief advisor on Defence, Economics, Public Health or Law. “Sorry National Security Advisor, but we've really annoyed the penguins with those tariffs and the Emperor has invaded the Isle of Wight. Clear your desk and ask the Deputy National Security Advisor to step in please.”

If I were Prime Minister I would make sure everyone in my cabinet has a firm grip on what's going on and can answer challenging questions from persistent journalists while I'm out. That Kuenssberg terrifies me. Then I can leave them to it and head out to the cliffs with the camera instead. And I can blame them when everything goes wrong. “Sorry Home Secretary but twelve high security political prisoners have escaped from Dartmoor Prison and made a run for the coast, where they've pinched a pedalo from the boating lake at Brixham. They're believed to be making for the Isle of Wight to join forces with the penguins. Someone has to take the rap and it has to be you or me if we're going to keep the press off our backs. And I’m the Prime Minister so it’s you. Fetch the Home Office Minister please.”

If I were Prime Minister, what I definitely would do, beyond a shadow of a doubt, with no reservations or regrets whatsoever at all, is to authorise a firing squad to deal with the middle aged couple who clearly saw me setting up the camera on the slope in front of Towanroath, before sitting slap bang in the middle of my composition, where they remained until sunset. I should add that I’m not referring to the couple in the bottom left of the frame. They’re fine where they are and I could easily clone them out if I was moved to do so. Too harsh? No, I knew you'd agree. I mean, what the hell did they think I was doing there? Keeping an eye out for the penguin invasion fleet, disguised as seals? As Prime Minister I would entirely take responsibility for this decision, and stand or fall by it. I remained where I was for a while, eating my orange and wondering whether they were in for the long haul. They were, so I had to move further to the right - something a worrying number of politicians seem to be doing these days. The promising scattered high cloud moved too, and was replaced by the customary bank of grey on the horizon as the sun went down. Another catastrophe. It’s probably a good job that I’m not Prime Minister then. Somebody wouldn’t think it was the right thing to do.

I just asked Ali if she'd vote for me. She thought about it for slightly less than half a second and said no. I asked why. “Because I'd have to listen to you moaning all day every day.” She obviously hasn't forgotten what it was like when I had to go to work for a living and didn't have the time or the energy to write this nonsense. And I wasn’t even Prime Minister at the time. I think I'm in danger of losing my deposit.

Engine house, built in 1897, containing original Lilleshall Company beam engines. The building is in part used as a training facility, part place of worship. Grade 2 listed. View from Abbey Road.

Engine house, built in 1897, containing original Lilleshall Company beam engines. The building is in part used as a training facility, part place of worship. View from Canning Road.

Engine house, built in 1897, containing original Lilleshall Company beam engines. The building is in part used as a training facility, part place of worship. View from Long Wall Ecology Garden.