In not the best of circumstances myself and Mrs. F. snuck off to Cornwall for a few days with we me as the uncomfortable non-driver. Deliberately non railway after the Ffest-fest of a few weeks back, this was a kick back and walk along the beach type of break. Something magnetic happens though as on waking (having arrived in the dark) it became apparent that we were billeted in spitting distance from the GWR's Helston branch and faced this little beauty of a cattle creep under the old trackbed. Even when I don't do any research, the railway lines find me.
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