We are riding the train to Cornwall with dogs. Yep. The English love their dogs and take them places NYC doggie lovers would die for. A nice-sized collie mix was in our Reserved Car, a packed train with luggage spilling into the exit. The dog shared a double-seat with its master and a perfect stranger (it sat at the owner’s feet.) Could that happen in NYC? No!
[caption id="attachment_456" align="alignleft" width="300"]Plymouth Harbor, Cornwall Plymouth Harbor, Cornwall[/caption]
Travel agents make a big deal about Cornwall for good reason. It is Ye olde countryside of green hills flecked with heather, sheep meadows and an old system of water canals populated with narrow colorful barges moored next to farmer’s fields.
In the south there are tidewater harbors filled with seagulls and wading birds. Villages bloom around the water’s edge. High-rises and billboards seem to be absent here.
Tomorrow, we begin our 26-mile walk.

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