Summer comes soonest in the South

Or so once said a promotional poster produced by the Southern Railway in 1936. The vintage print itself depicting a young boy dwarfed on a sunny platform whilst gazing upwards at a gigantic green locomotive of the Southern Region. Far from the metals of the former Southern, and indeed far from the sweltering southern summer months, Imogen and I found ourselves on the UK's southernmost point for the second weekend in December. Keeping up an annual tradition of pre-Christmas excursions, this year we managed to get away for a long weekend in the village of St Ruan, near Cadgwith Cove. Classic Cornish seaside territory.

Gateway to Cornwall; the I.K. Brunel Royal Albert Bridge at Saltash.

We set out from Lancaster in the usual pitch-dark that a December Thursday evening brings on a Pendolino to London. But to brighten up our journey south, I had received a free upgrade for the two of us to First Class from Virgin Trains. What a great treat! We enjoyed fine on board hospitality as we raced south adding to the sense of adventure of setting forth on a great railway journey. We broke the journey overnight in Twickenham with Rowan before continuing towards the West. This gave us the benefit of enjoying the spectacular Great Western mainline to Cornwall entirely in daylight hours on Friday. The journey from Reading brought me onto familiar Great Western turf and of course our outstanding First Great Western HST did not disappoint with a faultless run via rolling Devonshire hills, the South Devon coastal section and the highlight of all, the Royal Albert bridge over the Tamar at Plymouth. For the latter, the HST slows to a crawl for the sharp curves leading onto Brunel's masterpiece. This is where the 1970's HST design comes into it's own, with the slide down windows at the ends of the carriages allowing that true nostalgic railway pastime of observing the goings on without the restraint of a pain of double glazing. Fantastic for photos and views! Long live the HST on the far West route, if we're lucky they could still be with us well into the 2020's.

Lovely Shetland Ponies on the SW Coast Path near Cadgwith Cove. 

Our base for the weekend was the loveliest of converted Cornish Barns. Before Friday nightfall, we just managed a short jaunt to poke our fingers into the biting waters of Cadgwith Cove and explore the interesting rocky promontory known as the Todden, a solid piece of Cornish rock jutting seward several hundred metres effectively cutting Cadgwith into two coves. The Little Barn provided a cosy little retreat upon our return.

Saturday had been forecast as sunny and still all week, a real bonus for our the timing of our trip. We set out under clear blue sky on a remarkably mild sunny morning headed for the SW coast path leading westwards around the Lizard Peninsula from Cadgwith. The Lizard is an area of stark contrasts, a result of unique geology, climatic conditions and vegetation. The Eastward facing coast, is relatively sheltered, sporting dense vegetation and thickets of gorse and sea buckthorn. The locals, make the most of the mild climate, and put on fine displays of sub-tropical ornamental plants in gardens backing onto the clifftop. Our route took us right around the headland of the Southernmost tip of Great Britain passing the lifeboat station at Kilcobben Cove and the scattered assemblage of tourist huts selling all manner of memorabilia. The warmth of the sunshine even permitted the shedding of jumpers at certain points on the walk. Just beyond the Southernmost tip, we stumbled across a worn groove leading down through broken shale to a rickety looking metal ladder. This in turn gave access to a beautiful little rocky cove un-named on the OS map, but at low water forming an extension of Polpeor Cove, accessible from the road leading to the shore from the Southernmost Point. We spent a lovely long lunchtime in almost spring-like sunshine on the cove, prior to clambering back up onto the coast path, and on to Lizard Point proper. At this point, the Lizard coastline turns North West, and the large expanse of Mount Bay opens up towards Penzance and Newlyn in the far distance. This is the rugged, west facing coast of the peninsula, battered by centuries of westerly storms, creating spectacular coastal features in the tough Serpentine rock.

Lizard Point, the most Southerly Point on the British Mainland.

Sunday was much more typical for December weather-wise. Still mild, but the area was battered by a classic westerly storm with super strong winds and heavy showers. We checked out a few beach spots, first on the eastern side of the peninsula at Kennack Sands and then by handy use of the number 37 bus, skipped across to the western side to check out Church, Poldhu, Polurrian and Mullion Coves; all wonderful in their own ways, particularly under the influence of an exciting Atlantic westerly. For Sunday evening, we settled ourselves in at the cosy little Cadgwith Cove Inn, for some fine Cornish fayre, and most importantly, ale.

Church Cove of St Gunwalloe under the influence of a fine December westerly surf.

Monday was our return travel day. First thing, we did manage a quick jaunt down into Cadgwith and around to the Devils Frying-pan. However it was soon time join the number 37 bus once again for the trip inland to Redruth. Our connection to the train at Redruth gave us enough time to check out the small North Cornish mining town and visit the station buffet for a hot chocolate. At 13:31, our royal blue class 43 growled in to Redruth ahead of the long-haul up the Great Western to Paddington. We were riding all the way in to the big smoke, so settled into table seats on the 'coast side' of the train to make the most of the scenery. Given the time of year, it was dark soon after Exeter which gave me the opportunity to settle into my Bradshaws Railway Handbook and read all the descriptions of Great Western towns from a Victorian-era perspective. The final leg of our journey was the usual belt north from Euston aboard the Pendolino. No first class upgrade this time but enjoyable, as ever!

As I drifted to sleep back in our little northern terrace on Monday night, it was with a small smile as brought about from such a majestic excursion deep in the southwest always brings. Cornwall haste-ye back!