Great British Railway Journeys (2010–…): Season 1, Episode 15 - Truro to Penzance - full transcript
In 1840, one man transformed travel in Britain.
His name was George Bradshaw,
and his railway guides inspired the Victorians
to take to the tracks.
Stop by stop, he told them where to travel,
what to see and where to stay.
Now, 170 years later,
I'm making four long journeys
across the length and breadth of the country
to see what remains of Bradshaw's Britain.
I'm now completing my rail journey
from Swindon to Penzance.
My Bradshaw's guide has given me
a valuable Victorian perspective on Britain.
Today, I want to look deep into Cornwall's past,
delving, not only into its history,
But also into treasures buried in the earth.
Today, I'll be making a pilgrimage
to Perran Sands.
I'm looking for the lost church of St Piran
but it seems to have got lost again.
It is, but, believe it or not, it's here,
right under this granite rock.
I'll be exploring the last working tin mine
in Cornwall.
You can see the advantages
of being a small, Cornish miner.
This thing was put in
before the days of rock drills.
This had to be hand drilled
and then blasted.
And I'll be harvesting oysters
on the Helford river.
That really is exciting. What an amazing sight.
It's a cage absolutely full of bags of oysters.
That's right.
All this week my journey takes me west.
And, since catching the train at Swindon,
We already travelled over 250 miles,
passing through Somerset and Devon.
The final stretch will take me
about as far south as you can go -
to the rugged coastline
around Penzance.
Today, I'm leaving St Austell
and heading through Truro
to Redruth and St Wes.
Then I'll cross over to Helston
before reaching my final destination.
My first stop is Truro.
It's the nearest railway station
to a very wild piece of Cornish countryside
caned Perran Sands.
This amazing landscape
has some of the largest sand dunes in Britain.
And I'm here because, in 1835,
the sand parted to reveal an ancient church.
Bradshaw was mesmerised. He writes:
"We come to Perran Sands
where may be seen an amphitheatre
and the remains of an old church of St Piran,
an ancient British edifice which has been
covered by the shifting sands for centuries. "
it turned out not only to be
the oldest church in Cornwall,
but one of the earliest Christian sites in Britain.
Before long, the railways
were transporting pilgrims and sightseers
to witness the wonder of St Piran's.
But, evidently, it's disappeared again.
I'm hoping that local resident Angela Penrose
can help me to find it.
- Angela, hello.
- Hello.
- Michael. What a lovely tranquil spot.
- It's beautiful, isn't it?
I'm looking for the lost church of St Piran.
Believe it or not, it's here,
right under this granite rock.
It was covered naturally by the sands.
This whole area of dunes shifts.
In the 6th century, St Piran came from Ireland.
He arrived here on the shores of Perranport.
He built his little oratory,
and for almost a thousand years
it was a centre of activity and pilgrimages.
In 1835, did they dig it out
or was it that the sand shifted back again?
It was revealed, we think, by shifting sands,
and then William Mitchell of Truro excavated it.
There was great excitement
because it is one of the oldest Christian
four-walled edifices in mainland Britain.
By the 19703,
sand was overwhelming the church once more.
The locals were advised that the most
cost-effective way to preserve it
was to bury it again.
How important is what's underneath?
It has great significance for the Cornish because
St Piran was the patron saint of tin miners
and it connects to all this industrial
and economic history,
and the Cornish miners who,
in the 19th century, had to go off to Mexico
the States, Chile, South Africa.
And it has a significance,
it's pan of the Cornish identity.
The Cornish took St Piran to their hearts.
And I'm now heading to Truro,
the city most closely associated with him.
In Bradshaw's day it was the centre
for the tin trade.
Truro flourished with the emergence
of the railways.
Many new tracks were laid
to serve the tin mines.
The metals could be carried quickly
around the country,
helping the industry to grow.
Bradshaw's guide says of Truro:
"It's the mining capital of Cornwall,
covered by foundries, blast houses,
pottery and tin works.
The metal is stamped
previous to being exported.
Bar tin is sent to the Mediterranean
and ingots to the East Indies."
When the price of tin went up
in the 19th century,
Truro became increasingly wealthy.
It attracted merchants and bankers
who built grand houses,
transforming it into a fashionable place to five.
But today, even though Truro remains grand,
I've nowhere seen a hint of tin.
- Hello. Are you from Truro?
- I most definitely am.
- Is Truro still associated with tin?
- Not so much now.
Of course, the money in Cornwall
came from the tin mines,
huge amounts of money in the 17th century.
So, unfortunately now, no.
So, what's Truro's economy based on now?
Tourism.
- Obviously you work in Truro.
- Indeed, yes.
- What do you think of the city?
- I love Truro. It's great.
- No more tin?
- I don't think there's tin around.
They're trying to reopen South Crofty,
but, otherwise, no.
Ever since I arrived in Cornwall
the word “tin“ has been on people's lips.
But having found no trace of it in Truro,
I'm going to move further afield,
and find out what remains of what was once
a vital industry for Cornwall.
I'm hoping to have more fuck at my next stop.
How long's the journey to Redruth?
Do you know?
- Ten minutes.
- OK. Thank you.
I've heard there's an old tin mine at Redruth
called South Crofty
that's on the brink of reopening.
In the 19th century
there were over 300 mines around Redruth,
mining tin and copper
to be exported around the world.
Bradshaw writes: “This town derives nearly all
of its importance from its central situation
with respect to the neighbouring mines.
The workings of which have increased
the population to treble its original number "
Today, no tin mine survives, except one.
Bye-bye.
South Crafty was worked for over 400 years,
and in its heyday was one of Cornwall's
most productive mines.
- It is John, isn't it?
- That's right. Hi, Michael.
It's great to be at South Crofty.
I've heard a lot about the mine.
But by 1998, the value of tin had fallen so low
that South Crafty,
by then the last Cornish tin mine,
had to shut.
Today, the demand for tin is increasing,
and there's a chance that the mine
could make a profit again.
Operations Officer, John Webster,
believes it's only a matter of time
before mining recommences.
It's all quite narrow down here, isn't it?
You can see the advantages
of being a small, Cornish miner.
This thing was put in
before the days of rock drills.
This had to be hand drilled
and then blasted.
Imagine working underground here.
No fans, no ventilation.
Throughout most of the 19th and 20th century,
miners worked in very tough conditions
to create a rabbit warren of tiny tunnels
criss-crossing under the Cornish countryside.
About the time this was being mined, this area
must have been a cauldron of creativity.
The amount of inventions that were made
down here was incredible.
John, it's a great relief
to be able to stand up straight at last.
The invention of steam-powered pumps
in the 18th century
created the enormously successful
Cornish mining industry.
Miners were able to dig deeper and faster
to boost the production of ore.
The same technology
produced the steam locomotive,
which made a success of the railways,
which, in turn, transported the meta! ore
around the country.
So, why eventually did the mining
come to an end here?
We were reliant on the price of tin.
And there was a number of tin crashes.
Unfortunately, they never had anything else
to generate income and the mine collapsed.
With the price of tin now rising
it makes sense to try and reopen the mine.
What's more, surveys have revealed
South Crofty's richness in other metals too.
This contains copper, zinc and tin.
This is very high-grade.
This is 14% copper, about 1% tin,
and about 200 parts per million silver.
So this is well worth
getting the mine back into operation for?
Absolutely, yeah.
What will you do with these metals?
Nowadays, what's tin used for?
Tin cans and for solder.
We're quite excited about
the future market for tin
because there's a regulatory change
in the use of solder.
Solder at the moment is about 60% lead
and about 40% tin.
That ratio will change to about 98% tin
and 1% silver.
So there should be a huge increase
of tin consumption within the next few years.
And just as harnessing steam power
drove the industry forward in the past,
new technology is changing it again today.
How do you analyse what's in here?
We have just recently acquired
a handheld analyser,
which will give us a lot of flexibility on analysing
content of rock throughout the mine.
We're actually down here at the moment
analysing the latest drilling core out of the drill.
This device uses an X-ray source.
Elements within the rock fluoresce,
and the device reads the fluorescence.
We can analyse up to 60 different minerals
in one go.
So it's a very powerful tool.
That will allow us to analyse both the core
that we're generating at the moment
but also all the underground workings here.
We have hundreds of kilometres
of underground workings here.
So what sort of production could we expect
in Cornwall in the near future?
Within five years,
probably 750,000 tons of ore per year.
And if exploration goes well, then we could
probably double that within the next five years.
- Up to 1.5 million tons of ore?
- Yeah.
That's big production.
I hope that this does mark a renaissance
in Cornish mining.
When the industry peaked in Bradshaw's day,
annual production was just 10,000 tons.
It could massively exceed that figure
in the future.
Hello. Do you know where I change for St Ives,
please?
- At St Erth.
- At St Erth for St Ives?
- Yeah.
- A lot of saints down here, aren't there?
- Yeah, there are.
- OK, thank you.
- Are you going all the way to Penzance?
- No, I'm getting off at St Erth.
- So am I. Are you heading for St Ives?
- Yes, I am.
- Are you from St Ives?
- Yes.
What should I look out for in St Ives?
- Go to the Tate.
- Yes.
- It's quite an artists' colony, isn't it?
- It's very arty. Very arty indeed.
- Why do artists like it so much?
- It's the light.
- Is it?
- I think so.
- Are you aware of that yourself?
- Yes. Yes, it's fantastic.
I'm really looking forward to St Ives.
This lovely landscape and the coastal vistas
have been admired by artists for centuries
so I know I'm in for a visual treat.
When the Great Western Railway
was completed in 1877,
St Wes suddenly became
much more accessible.
The numbers of artists began to grow.
And by the 20th century,
the town had its own fully-fledged
artists' community.
That was one of the most stunning train rides,
all around the bay,
and now, here at St Ives,
these glorious beaches.
Even on a cloudy day,
the colours are magnificent.
You can see why this place would be
the inspiration for artists.
One of the most painted scenes of St Wes
is the harbour,
which in Bradshaw's time was thriving.
My guidebook tells me the pier and harbour
were bum by
the famous Nth-century engineer,
John Smeaton,
to serve the port's hundreds of fishing boats.
St Wes is a very different place today.
It's still flourishing,
but it's now dominated by another industry
that grew as a result of the railways.
Each summer, the narrow streets
are crowded with tourists,
admiring the sandy beaches
and turquoise seas.
Bradshaw doesn't have much more to say
about St Ives
but he does mention Tregenna Castle,
then the home of the Stephens family.
These days, it's a luxury hotel.
I chose this hotel, Tregenna Castle,
because it's in Bradshaw's.
He says: “It occupies a lofty situation
outside the town.
And commands an extensive prospect.“
Which indeed it does.
But I've found there's a better view on the roof.
This way.
The Stephens family clearly picked
the best spot in St Ives for their home
to overlook the glorious Cornish coastline.
A breath-taking view.
So good, in fact, that the Great Western Railway
bought the hotel,
even though it's along way
from the railway station,
in order to promote tourism and travel by train.
Another day, and my next stop
will be the Helford river.
In Bradshaw's day I could have taken the railway
from St Ives all the way to the top of the estuary.
The line was closed in 1964
as part of the Beeching cuts.
But you can still enjoy it on foot.
This is the Helford river.
My Bradshaw's guide says:
“Days can be spent exploring the creeks
and rounding the headlands
in this beautiful neighbourhood."
But not having that long,
let's see what I can get done in half a day.
When my guidebook was written,
the estuary teemed with oyster beds.
But what has become of
that centuries-old industry?
Hello, Ben. I'm Michael.
Michael, nice to meet you.
Welcome to the Helford river.
- I have to tell you, I love oysters.
- That's a very good start.
Ben Wright has been harvesting
the river's oyster beds for the last four years.
What would the trade have been like
in Victorian times?
The Victorians were voracious oyster eaters.
The big market was really in London.
That was the time of Dickens
and oyster sellers on every street corner.
What really helped the Helford fishery
particularly take part in that
was the train.
When the train started up, that was a big
opening commercially for the oysters here.
They were sent up on the train
to the big markets in London.
That really is exciting.
What an amazing sight.
It's a cage absolutely full
of bags of oysters.
That's right.
There's a couple of reasons
that we lift the cages, Michael.
One is quite simply
just to have a look at the stock,
make sure it's growing OK,
make sure there are no problems.
As the oysters grow, they can grow together,
they can get stuck,
and they can get stuck in the meshes of the bag,
so it's important we come here once a month to
make sure they're all healthy and growing well.
The other reason is we take all the bags out
and we give them a good shake.
It tends to wake the oysters up a little bit,
separate them out.
We don't want them getting lazy.
It's important that they grow well.
So, literally, just take the bag out,
give it a good shake.
Because this is our first bag,
let's have a little look.
See what we've got.
Baby oysters are nurtured in cages
to protect them from predators in the river.
Lovely wee fellas.
How long have these been in there?
These will have been in there four months.
They're quite young.
Already you can see
we've got quite a difference of growth rate.
We've got some that are a little bit slow,
some average ones,
and a couple here that have done really well.
You can see by these long growth lines
in the shell how quickly they've grown.
Then what we will do at some point
is bring all of these cages in, grade them all out
so that they're all growing
in the same sizes together.
How long before these appear on my plate?
You'll have to wait a little bit, I'm afraid.
Probably another 12 months or so.
In Bradshaw's time,
oysters were a staple food of the poor,
and they were eaten in their dozens.
By the mid 20th century,
oyster harvests had begun to decline,
driving up the prices.
These days they're considered a luxury.
The industry had some problems, didn't it?
There was a parasite attack years ago.
Has it recovered from that?
Not really, to be honest.
In the early '80s, all the native oyster fisheries
were decimated, really.
That, actually, was the start of the demise
of the Helford oysterage as well.
Some fisheries recovered better than others.
It wasn't till four or five years ago,
here on the Helford,
that we really started our work
to regenerate the river.
The Helford oyster beds
were almost lost for all time,
but now Ben is gradually building them back.
It's only a short trip up the river
to where the older oysters are fattening up.
Here we are at Frenchman's Creek.
I think the British are pathetic oyster eaters
compared with the French, aren't they?
Certainly we eat a lot less than the French.
But it's coming back. More and more people
in Britain are eating oysters.
People are more open-minded
about food generally, they're more inquisitive.
And ultimately it's such a natural food.
They grow wild, there's no additives.
It's a completely organic process.
They're actually relatively inexpensive.
This champagne Charlie expensive image
is a thing of the past as well.
They're perfectly good to wash down with
a pint of beer. Nature's fast food.
It's a pity that none of these is ready to eat.
- These are ready.
- These are ready to eat?
These are ready to go, yeah.
- And...
- And I'm ready.
I'm ready too.
What is your advice on eating oysters?
I think there's a lot of old wives' tales.
There's a lot of myth
and what you should do and shouldn't do.
To be honest, I think
people should stop worrying quite so much
and just eat them however they want.
However, don't just swallow the oyster.
I don't really know where that came from.
Because you'll miss out on all the texture
and the flavour.
You've got to give it a good chew to really
appreciate all the complexity of the oyster.
- Release that wonderful taste of the sea.
- There's one for you there.
Do you have them with a little Tabasco
or a little vinegar?
Personally, I prefer them on their own
with a little bit of lemon, only a bit of lemon,
because there's a lot of delicate flavours
in there.
Sometimes things like Tabasco
can be a bit strong.
- But, then again...
- It's all a matter of taste.
All a matter of taste.
- There you go.
- Thank you very much indeed.
Cheers. Enjoy.
Cheers.
Mm.
Great textures.
Not at all rubbery.
Just dissolving.
Mm.
I could have another of those.
The Helford oysters are delicious.
In Ben's capable hands, I'm sure the oyster beds
will be productive once more.
Having journeyed almost the whole length
of Brunel's Great Western Railway,
t can't stop before reaching the end of the tine
at Penzance.
I'm now travelling as far as it's possible to go
by train in England,
to the country's westerly and southerly extremity.
I'm keen to see how even the smallest towns
in the furthest corners of the country
were transformed by the power of the railways.
It would have taken days to get from London
to Penzance by stagecoach.
In Bradshaw's day,
the capital and England's western point
were brought within a comfortable day's journey.
What was once a remote village
on a rugged headland
became a popular resort
at the end of the holiday tine.
The railways soon brought holidaymakers
in their droves.
And some things don't change.
How are you?
Are you going to the tip of England?
- Tip of England, yes.
- And beyond.
- Oh, you're going to the Scillies.
- We're going to the Scillies.
- Are you holidaymakers?
- Yes.
- And look at the sun shining on your face there.
- And the water.
And the sun glinting on the water.
- It's all set fair, isn't it?
- Is it? For how long?
I don't know.
Have a lovely holiday.
We will, we intend to. We usually do, don't we?
All over the world but now we're doing this.
Just before ! reach Penzance,
St Michael's Mount comes into View.
This ancient island settlement was once owned
by its French counterpart in Normandy,
Mont St-Michel.
Bradshaw writes: “R is a majestic island.
At the top are the remains of a priory
founded before the Conquest,
and for ages resorted to by pilgrims. "
"Penzance itself, " he says,
"is more famous for potatoes. "
They're tricky, these ones.
They get stuck halfway.
There we go.
When the railways connected Penzance
to London
early crops of new potatoes, broccoli
and other vegetables
were shipped up to the markets by train.
But like so much of Cornwall, many of those
traditional industries have gone into decline.
Today, the balance has shifted.
Now it's the five million tourists spending
about one and a halt billion pounds a year
that keep Cornwall going.
When I began my rail journey west from
Swindon, I was following the holiday line,
because the railways made mass tourism
possible.
But even the most beautiful places in Britain
cannot survive from leisure alone.
Bradshaw's guided me
to our most ancient industries -
those that extract minerals from the earth,
and food from the waters.
And now it's brought me to the end of the line.
The buffers.
Beyond, only the Atlantic.
On my next journey, I'll be travelling from Buxton
an the way south to London.
Along the route I'll be visiting
the oldest working factory in the world.
- Made in England.
- Made in England.
- Does that make you proud?
- Oh, yes. That's what we like to see.
I'll be discovering why Burton's beer
is said to be best.
Two weeks' conditioning in the cask
a week in the pub...
- And ten minutes to drink.
- You're a slow drinker.
(Chiming bells)
And I'll be finding out how the capital
has rung in the changes since Bradshaw's day.
(Deep chime)
His name was George Bradshaw,
and his railway guides inspired the Victorians
to take to the tracks.
Stop by stop, he told them where to travel,
what to see and where to stay.
Now, 170 years later,
I'm making four long journeys
across the length and breadth of the country
to see what remains of Bradshaw's Britain.
I'm now completing my rail journey
from Swindon to Penzance.
My Bradshaw's guide has given me
a valuable Victorian perspective on Britain.
Today, I want to look deep into Cornwall's past,
delving, not only into its history,
But also into treasures buried in the earth.
Today, I'll be making a pilgrimage
to Perran Sands.
I'm looking for the lost church of St Piran
but it seems to have got lost again.
It is, but, believe it or not, it's here,
right under this granite rock.
I'll be exploring the last working tin mine
in Cornwall.
You can see the advantages
of being a small, Cornish miner.
This thing was put in
before the days of rock drills.
This had to be hand drilled
and then blasted.
And I'll be harvesting oysters
on the Helford river.
That really is exciting. What an amazing sight.
It's a cage absolutely full of bags of oysters.
That's right.
All this week my journey takes me west.
And, since catching the train at Swindon,
We already travelled over 250 miles,
passing through Somerset and Devon.
The final stretch will take me
about as far south as you can go -
to the rugged coastline
around Penzance.
Today, I'm leaving St Austell
and heading through Truro
to Redruth and St Wes.
Then I'll cross over to Helston
before reaching my final destination.
My first stop is Truro.
It's the nearest railway station
to a very wild piece of Cornish countryside
caned Perran Sands.
This amazing landscape
has some of the largest sand dunes in Britain.
And I'm here because, in 1835,
the sand parted to reveal an ancient church.
Bradshaw was mesmerised. He writes:
"We come to Perran Sands
where may be seen an amphitheatre
and the remains of an old church of St Piran,
an ancient British edifice which has been
covered by the shifting sands for centuries. "
it turned out not only to be
the oldest church in Cornwall,
but one of the earliest Christian sites in Britain.
Before long, the railways
were transporting pilgrims and sightseers
to witness the wonder of St Piran's.
But, evidently, it's disappeared again.
I'm hoping that local resident Angela Penrose
can help me to find it.
- Angela, hello.
- Hello.
- Michael. What a lovely tranquil spot.
- It's beautiful, isn't it?
I'm looking for the lost church of St Piran.
Believe it or not, it's here,
right under this granite rock.
It was covered naturally by the sands.
This whole area of dunes shifts.
In the 6th century, St Piran came from Ireland.
He arrived here on the shores of Perranport.
He built his little oratory,
and for almost a thousand years
it was a centre of activity and pilgrimages.
In 1835, did they dig it out
or was it that the sand shifted back again?
It was revealed, we think, by shifting sands,
and then William Mitchell of Truro excavated it.
There was great excitement
because it is one of the oldest Christian
four-walled edifices in mainland Britain.
By the 19703,
sand was overwhelming the church once more.
The locals were advised that the most
cost-effective way to preserve it
was to bury it again.
How important is what's underneath?
It has great significance for the Cornish because
St Piran was the patron saint of tin miners
and it connects to all this industrial
and economic history,
and the Cornish miners who,
in the 19th century, had to go off to Mexico
the States, Chile, South Africa.
And it has a significance,
it's pan of the Cornish identity.
The Cornish took St Piran to their hearts.
And I'm now heading to Truro,
the city most closely associated with him.
In Bradshaw's day it was the centre
for the tin trade.
Truro flourished with the emergence
of the railways.
Many new tracks were laid
to serve the tin mines.
The metals could be carried quickly
around the country,
helping the industry to grow.
Bradshaw's guide says of Truro:
"It's the mining capital of Cornwall,
covered by foundries, blast houses,
pottery and tin works.
The metal is stamped
previous to being exported.
Bar tin is sent to the Mediterranean
and ingots to the East Indies."
When the price of tin went up
in the 19th century,
Truro became increasingly wealthy.
It attracted merchants and bankers
who built grand houses,
transforming it into a fashionable place to five.
But today, even though Truro remains grand,
I've nowhere seen a hint of tin.
- Hello. Are you from Truro?
- I most definitely am.
- Is Truro still associated with tin?
- Not so much now.
Of course, the money in Cornwall
came from the tin mines,
huge amounts of money in the 17th century.
So, unfortunately now, no.
So, what's Truro's economy based on now?
Tourism.
- Obviously you work in Truro.
- Indeed, yes.
- What do you think of the city?
- I love Truro. It's great.
- No more tin?
- I don't think there's tin around.
They're trying to reopen South Crofty,
but, otherwise, no.
Ever since I arrived in Cornwall
the word “tin“ has been on people's lips.
But having found no trace of it in Truro,
I'm going to move further afield,
and find out what remains of what was once
a vital industry for Cornwall.
I'm hoping to have more fuck at my next stop.
How long's the journey to Redruth?
Do you know?
- Ten minutes.
- OK. Thank you.
I've heard there's an old tin mine at Redruth
called South Crofty
that's on the brink of reopening.
In the 19th century
there were over 300 mines around Redruth,
mining tin and copper
to be exported around the world.
Bradshaw writes: “This town derives nearly all
of its importance from its central situation
with respect to the neighbouring mines.
The workings of which have increased
the population to treble its original number "
Today, no tin mine survives, except one.
Bye-bye.
South Crafty was worked for over 400 years,
and in its heyday was one of Cornwall's
most productive mines.
- It is John, isn't it?
- That's right. Hi, Michael.
It's great to be at South Crofty.
I've heard a lot about the mine.
But by 1998, the value of tin had fallen so low
that South Crafty,
by then the last Cornish tin mine,
had to shut.
Today, the demand for tin is increasing,
and there's a chance that the mine
could make a profit again.
Operations Officer, John Webster,
believes it's only a matter of time
before mining recommences.
It's all quite narrow down here, isn't it?
You can see the advantages
of being a small, Cornish miner.
This thing was put in
before the days of rock drills.
This had to be hand drilled
and then blasted.
Imagine working underground here.
No fans, no ventilation.
Throughout most of the 19th and 20th century,
miners worked in very tough conditions
to create a rabbit warren of tiny tunnels
criss-crossing under the Cornish countryside.
About the time this was being mined, this area
must have been a cauldron of creativity.
The amount of inventions that were made
down here was incredible.
John, it's a great relief
to be able to stand up straight at last.
The invention of steam-powered pumps
in the 18th century
created the enormously successful
Cornish mining industry.
Miners were able to dig deeper and faster
to boost the production of ore.
The same technology
produced the steam locomotive,
which made a success of the railways,
which, in turn, transported the meta! ore
around the country.
So, why eventually did the mining
come to an end here?
We were reliant on the price of tin.
And there was a number of tin crashes.
Unfortunately, they never had anything else
to generate income and the mine collapsed.
With the price of tin now rising
it makes sense to try and reopen the mine.
What's more, surveys have revealed
South Crofty's richness in other metals too.
This contains copper, zinc and tin.
This is very high-grade.
This is 14% copper, about 1% tin,
and about 200 parts per million silver.
So this is well worth
getting the mine back into operation for?
Absolutely, yeah.
What will you do with these metals?
Nowadays, what's tin used for?
Tin cans and for solder.
We're quite excited about
the future market for tin
because there's a regulatory change
in the use of solder.
Solder at the moment is about 60% lead
and about 40% tin.
That ratio will change to about 98% tin
and 1% silver.
So there should be a huge increase
of tin consumption within the next few years.
And just as harnessing steam power
drove the industry forward in the past,
new technology is changing it again today.
How do you analyse what's in here?
We have just recently acquired
a handheld analyser,
which will give us a lot of flexibility on analysing
content of rock throughout the mine.
We're actually down here at the moment
analysing the latest drilling core out of the drill.
This device uses an X-ray source.
Elements within the rock fluoresce,
and the device reads the fluorescence.
We can analyse up to 60 different minerals
in one go.
So it's a very powerful tool.
That will allow us to analyse both the core
that we're generating at the moment
but also all the underground workings here.
We have hundreds of kilometres
of underground workings here.
So what sort of production could we expect
in Cornwall in the near future?
Within five years,
probably 750,000 tons of ore per year.
And if exploration goes well, then we could
probably double that within the next five years.
- Up to 1.5 million tons of ore?
- Yeah.
That's big production.
I hope that this does mark a renaissance
in Cornish mining.
When the industry peaked in Bradshaw's day,
annual production was just 10,000 tons.
It could massively exceed that figure
in the future.
Hello. Do you know where I change for St Ives,
please?
- At St Erth.
- At St Erth for St Ives?
- Yeah.
- A lot of saints down here, aren't there?
- Yeah, there are.
- OK, thank you.
- Are you going all the way to Penzance?
- No, I'm getting off at St Erth.
- So am I. Are you heading for St Ives?
- Yes, I am.
- Are you from St Ives?
- Yes.
What should I look out for in St Ives?
- Go to the Tate.
- Yes.
- It's quite an artists' colony, isn't it?
- It's very arty. Very arty indeed.
- Why do artists like it so much?
- It's the light.
- Is it?
- I think so.
- Are you aware of that yourself?
- Yes. Yes, it's fantastic.
I'm really looking forward to St Ives.
This lovely landscape and the coastal vistas
have been admired by artists for centuries
so I know I'm in for a visual treat.
When the Great Western Railway
was completed in 1877,
St Wes suddenly became
much more accessible.
The numbers of artists began to grow.
And by the 20th century,
the town had its own fully-fledged
artists' community.
That was one of the most stunning train rides,
all around the bay,
and now, here at St Ives,
these glorious beaches.
Even on a cloudy day,
the colours are magnificent.
You can see why this place would be
the inspiration for artists.
One of the most painted scenes of St Wes
is the harbour,
which in Bradshaw's time was thriving.
My guidebook tells me the pier and harbour
were bum by
the famous Nth-century engineer,
John Smeaton,
to serve the port's hundreds of fishing boats.
St Wes is a very different place today.
It's still flourishing,
but it's now dominated by another industry
that grew as a result of the railways.
Each summer, the narrow streets
are crowded with tourists,
admiring the sandy beaches
and turquoise seas.
Bradshaw doesn't have much more to say
about St Ives
but he does mention Tregenna Castle,
then the home of the Stephens family.
These days, it's a luxury hotel.
I chose this hotel, Tregenna Castle,
because it's in Bradshaw's.
He says: “It occupies a lofty situation
outside the town.
And commands an extensive prospect.“
Which indeed it does.
But I've found there's a better view on the roof.
This way.
The Stephens family clearly picked
the best spot in St Ives for their home
to overlook the glorious Cornish coastline.
A breath-taking view.
So good, in fact, that the Great Western Railway
bought the hotel,
even though it's along way
from the railway station,
in order to promote tourism and travel by train.
Another day, and my next stop
will be the Helford river.
In Bradshaw's day I could have taken the railway
from St Ives all the way to the top of the estuary.
The line was closed in 1964
as part of the Beeching cuts.
But you can still enjoy it on foot.
This is the Helford river.
My Bradshaw's guide says:
“Days can be spent exploring the creeks
and rounding the headlands
in this beautiful neighbourhood."
But not having that long,
let's see what I can get done in half a day.
When my guidebook was written,
the estuary teemed with oyster beds.
But what has become of
that centuries-old industry?
Hello, Ben. I'm Michael.
Michael, nice to meet you.
Welcome to the Helford river.
- I have to tell you, I love oysters.
- That's a very good start.
Ben Wright has been harvesting
the river's oyster beds for the last four years.
What would the trade have been like
in Victorian times?
The Victorians were voracious oyster eaters.
The big market was really in London.
That was the time of Dickens
and oyster sellers on every street corner.
What really helped the Helford fishery
particularly take part in that
was the train.
When the train started up, that was a big
opening commercially for the oysters here.
They were sent up on the train
to the big markets in London.
That really is exciting.
What an amazing sight.
It's a cage absolutely full
of bags of oysters.
That's right.
There's a couple of reasons
that we lift the cages, Michael.
One is quite simply
just to have a look at the stock,
make sure it's growing OK,
make sure there are no problems.
As the oysters grow, they can grow together,
they can get stuck,
and they can get stuck in the meshes of the bag,
so it's important we come here once a month to
make sure they're all healthy and growing well.
The other reason is we take all the bags out
and we give them a good shake.
It tends to wake the oysters up a little bit,
separate them out.
We don't want them getting lazy.
It's important that they grow well.
So, literally, just take the bag out,
give it a good shake.
Because this is our first bag,
let's have a little look.
See what we've got.
Baby oysters are nurtured in cages
to protect them from predators in the river.
Lovely wee fellas.
How long have these been in there?
These will have been in there four months.
They're quite young.
Already you can see
we've got quite a difference of growth rate.
We've got some that are a little bit slow,
some average ones,
and a couple here that have done really well.
You can see by these long growth lines
in the shell how quickly they've grown.
Then what we will do at some point
is bring all of these cages in, grade them all out
so that they're all growing
in the same sizes together.
How long before these appear on my plate?
You'll have to wait a little bit, I'm afraid.
Probably another 12 months or so.
In Bradshaw's time,
oysters were a staple food of the poor,
and they were eaten in their dozens.
By the mid 20th century,
oyster harvests had begun to decline,
driving up the prices.
These days they're considered a luxury.
The industry had some problems, didn't it?
There was a parasite attack years ago.
Has it recovered from that?
Not really, to be honest.
In the early '80s, all the native oyster fisheries
were decimated, really.
That, actually, was the start of the demise
of the Helford oysterage as well.
Some fisheries recovered better than others.
It wasn't till four or five years ago,
here on the Helford,
that we really started our work
to regenerate the river.
The Helford oyster beds
were almost lost for all time,
but now Ben is gradually building them back.
It's only a short trip up the river
to where the older oysters are fattening up.
Here we are at Frenchman's Creek.
I think the British are pathetic oyster eaters
compared with the French, aren't they?
Certainly we eat a lot less than the French.
But it's coming back. More and more people
in Britain are eating oysters.
People are more open-minded
about food generally, they're more inquisitive.
And ultimately it's such a natural food.
They grow wild, there's no additives.
It's a completely organic process.
They're actually relatively inexpensive.
This champagne Charlie expensive image
is a thing of the past as well.
They're perfectly good to wash down with
a pint of beer. Nature's fast food.
It's a pity that none of these is ready to eat.
- These are ready.
- These are ready to eat?
These are ready to go, yeah.
- And...
- And I'm ready.
I'm ready too.
What is your advice on eating oysters?
I think there's a lot of old wives' tales.
There's a lot of myth
and what you should do and shouldn't do.
To be honest, I think
people should stop worrying quite so much
and just eat them however they want.
However, don't just swallow the oyster.
I don't really know where that came from.
Because you'll miss out on all the texture
and the flavour.
You've got to give it a good chew to really
appreciate all the complexity of the oyster.
- Release that wonderful taste of the sea.
- There's one for you there.
Do you have them with a little Tabasco
or a little vinegar?
Personally, I prefer them on their own
with a little bit of lemon, only a bit of lemon,
because there's a lot of delicate flavours
in there.
Sometimes things like Tabasco
can be a bit strong.
- But, then again...
- It's all a matter of taste.
All a matter of taste.
- There you go.
- Thank you very much indeed.
Cheers. Enjoy.
Cheers.
Mm.
Great textures.
Not at all rubbery.
Just dissolving.
Mm.
I could have another of those.
The Helford oysters are delicious.
In Ben's capable hands, I'm sure the oyster beds
will be productive once more.
Having journeyed almost the whole length
of Brunel's Great Western Railway,
t can't stop before reaching the end of the tine
at Penzance.
I'm now travelling as far as it's possible to go
by train in England,
to the country's westerly and southerly extremity.
I'm keen to see how even the smallest towns
in the furthest corners of the country
were transformed by the power of the railways.
It would have taken days to get from London
to Penzance by stagecoach.
In Bradshaw's day,
the capital and England's western point
were brought within a comfortable day's journey.
What was once a remote village
on a rugged headland
became a popular resort
at the end of the holiday tine.
The railways soon brought holidaymakers
in their droves.
And some things don't change.
How are you?
Are you going to the tip of England?
- Tip of England, yes.
- And beyond.
- Oh, you're going to the Scillies.
- We're going to the Scillies.
- Are you holidaymakers?
- Yes.
- And look at the sun shining on your face there.
- And the water.
And the sun glinting on the water.
- It's all set fair, isn't it?
- Is it? For how long?
I don't know.
Have a lovely holiday.
We will, we intend to. We usually do, don't we?
All over the world but now we're doing this.
Just before ! reach Penzance,
St Michael's Mount comes into View.
This ancient island settlement was once owned
by its French counterpart in Normandy,
Mont St-Michel.
Bradshaw writes: “R is a majestic island.
At the top are the remains of a priory
founded before the Conquest,
and for ages resorted to by pilgrims. "
"Penzance itself, " he says,
"is more famous for potatoes. "
They're tricky, these ones.
They get stuck halfway.
There we go.
When the railways connected Penzance
to London
early crops of new potatoes, broccoli
and other vegetables
were shipped up to the markets by train.
But like so much of Cornwall, many of those
traditional industries have gone into decline.
Today, the balance has shifted.
Now it's the five million tourists spending
about one and a halt billion pounds a year
that keep Cornwall going.
When I began my rail journey west from
Swindon, I was following the holiday line,
because the railways made mass tourism
possible.
But even the most beautiful places in Britain
cannot survive from leisure alone.
Bradshaw's guided me
to our most ancient industries -
those that extract minerals from the earth,
and food from the waters.
And now it's brought me to the end of the line.
The buffers.
Beyond, only the Atlantic.
On my next journey, I'll be travelling from Buxton
an the way south to London.
Along the route I'll be visiting
the oldest working factory in the world.
- Made in England.
- Made in England.
- Does that make you proud?
- Oh, yes. That's what we like to see.
I'll be discovering why Burton's beer
is said to be best.
Two weeks' conditioning in the cask
a week in the pub...
- And ten minutes to drink.
- You're a slow drinker.
(Chiming bells)
And I'll be finding out how the capital
has rung in the changes since Bradshaw's day.
(Deep chime)