Why Plymouth?

A question I get asked a lot lately. Let me start with the first picture which you'll find inside Plymouth’s train station ticket hall. It gives you the first inkling of the mindset of this Ocean city.

Today I am travelling into work by train, a gentle train ride through the truly outstanding countryside of the Tamar Valley, the journey starts at the end of the line, and sets off on a single track as it heads from Drakewalls to Plymouth.

Winding its way through valleys with views that stretch for miles in which the remnants of a long rich history can be seen dotted all around, old bridges made from the granite through which the river Tamar has been carving its way to the Ocean since time began.

There is a strong sense of ‘old’ in this part of the world, drive out of Plymouth towards Tavistock and soon you will be greeted by Dartmoor, yet another place of stupendous beauty, filled with wild (ish) horses and sheep, a place that can be so harsh and bleak that myth says that escapees from Princetown prison in its early days would return to the prison within hours of escaping because they were too scared to be out on the Moors. With its Tors and Mega-lithic sites it is a place of mystery and inspiration to many.

And with Brunel’s signature dish appearing, we eventually leave the stunningly green country-side and enter Britain's Ocean city, and as we do station names like; “Dockyard’ and “Devonport’ start appearing and glimpses of buildings big enough to dry dock entire frigates and submarines for recycling and repair can be seen.


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