I felt sad leaving it and thinking about my recent dream of arriving in London with no bike.
St Austell is another world, a suburban world dominated by spoil heaps but I enjoyed the walk back to the station.
I had three quarters of an hour before the train so walked down into the town to look at Holy Trinity church, annoyingly the church yard was padlocked. I considered climbing over the railings but didn't want to get arrested or impaled at this stage so had to settle for enjoying the magnificent 15 century tower from road. Some unsympathetic PCC has plonked a horrible illuminated cross on the top but nothing could spoil the devils, the mythical lions sticking their tongues out, kings, wonderful gargoyles and faces with more grinning teeth than a Cheshire cat.
Rushing back up the hill to the station I was sobered by the simplicity of the Quaker meeting house, a perfect contrast, (sorry no photo).
Already, I miss my bike and can't wait to see it in London.