Cornwall - Train Japes.

And so Tom travelled to deepest Cornwall. The train journey was a long one (the longest I've ever made), and took me from Paddington to Truro (via Plymouth). I was surrounded by prepubescent school children who, between the sugar rushes that followed mad dashes to the buffet car, were trying to convince each other that as we rushed across the coastal rail, the large expanse of cool blue water outside the window was not the sea.
"It's not the sea you know, it's just a lake," one would say.
"It so is the sea," a small confused voice would reply.
"It's not! It's a lake"
"It's not! It's the sea"
"No, lake!"
"Mr BARKER!!" the little voice would exclaim. "Is that the sea?"
"Of course it is the sea," the much maligned Mr Barker would reply. Ah, if only we all had an authority figure like Mr Barker to make everything right.

I seemed to have been followed around by the smell of cheap bacon. I foolishly went to burger king at Paddington, and the kid opposite me bought a bacon bap... man it smelt bad. Plus, on the train from Paddington I was sat next to an old lady who also smelt like bacon. As I expected, when I saw Alex in Truro she put these "olfactory hallucinations" down to the only possible cause - brain tumour. Humm.. hopefully not! Thankfully the smell left later that afternoon! Phew!

Truro was lovely, we stopped for a quick cream tea in a little tea shop with incredibly high ceilings with hanging baskets with honed, pointed bases precariously dangling from it. Eep!