Like any mist-shrouded isle or headland that begins and ends in nothingness, Kernow breathes mystery. From Tintagel in the north, its castle rife with fantastical tales of King Arthur and the Round Table. To the westerly Zennor, where the land succumbs to the Atlantic at the spot where a seventeenth-century local, Matthew Trewhella, slipped beneath the waves to marry a mermaid. Tin is the ore but...
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