The following day we treked onward to another costal town, that of Tintagel, said to be the birthplace of King Aurthur. The legend says that Aurthur's father, King Uther, concieved Aurthur out of wedlock whilst under an enchantment to look like another woman's husband. This being said, Aurthur had to be sneaked out of the castle he was born in, and raised as a commoner. It is here at Tintagel we found the precious ruins of Tintael Castle, built in the 11th Century, over the remains of where in fact may have been Aurthur's birthplace.

Just below the castle is what as known as 'Merlin's Cove', where interlocking caves make for great exploring and beautiful views above.

A 19th Century restorative door accents an 11th century doorway where royalty would have come and went through the inner castle chambers.

In the 1920's a much obsessed aristocrat built a replica of what he thought Aurthur's Royal Hall might have looked like, along with a round table with his knights crests and titles done in bronze around the edges. At the end of this hall was a stained glass window of Aurthur as well as a great symbol of Aurthur's reign, the sword in the stone.

The next day had us moving onward to Bodmin Moor, a place of romance and of course, much mystery. It was here we hired a taxi to take us the 12 miles out into this oblivion where we stopped by the Jamaica Inn, made famous by the Daphne Du Marnier novel. We then hiked another mile out to the strange and tranquill Dozmary Pool...

Other oddities feature in Bodmin Moor, using our Ordinance Survey map, we hike through pasture and ravine to find stone circles, similar in type and purpose as Stonehenge in Salisbury Plain, these "Hurlers" have been here much longer. Stranger still, in the back of someone's own yard, we find the peculiar "Trethevy Quoit", a neolithic burial chamber.

Dozmary Pool, the home of the Lady of the Lake, the guardian spirit of Excalibur, the sword of Aurthur. Mythological connections aside, the pool is unusual in that it is a natural, free standing body of water that has no known source; that is, there are no springs, lakes, or streams to feed it, and yet it has remained here for hundreds of years.

The next day, we took a train out to the farthest west of Cornwall, the fishing town of Penzance, once a haunt for pirates. In the middle of the bay is St. Michael's Mount, said to be where giants lived, but now all that's there is a monestary, restored in the 19th century. (If you look carefully, you can find the shoeprint of Queen Victoria in the cement of the pier)

On the fifth and last day, we arrive in St. Austell to visit the new Eden Project, where botanists are seeking to recreate all of the worlds major biomes in the largest greenhouses ever constructed. Artists were brought in to interperet this project in the medium which they saw fit. It was a brilliant end to a magnificant trip, as we pulled back into Paddington Station in London quite late that evening.