I had wanted my entrance to Penzance station to be suitably grand, but my train was the local service from Plymouth, rather than one of the expresses from London. As a result, it was a Sprinter rather than an HST. Shame.
That’s not to say it was an unimpressive experience. After many miles travelling through open countryside, we rounded a curve, passed under a bridge – and suddenly there was the Atlantic Ocean. For the last mile or so the line hugs the coast, so I got to enjoy the sea view for a short time before my train pulled in to Penzance station.