When you board a train at Liskeard and realize that the world will slow down for the next thirty minutes or so, there’s a certain quiet satisfaction. The length of the Looe Valley Railroad Line is just seven miles. It runs about once every hour and has been on the verge of completely vanishing at several points in recent history. It seems improbable that it still exists; that’s all the better.
It takes a tiny act of faith to get to the train itself. At Liskeard station, you cross to a different, quieter building that serves the sole function of transporting passengers to Looe, leaving the main platform behind. The arrangement has a charmingly stubborn quality, as though the branch line is aware of its own world and doesn’t see the need to merge with anyone else’s. To put it generously, trains run roughly every hour to an hour and fifteen minutes on average, but this flexibility feels strangely appropriate here on the edge of the West Country.

After leaving Liskeard, the train quickly reaches Coombe Junction Halt, a stop so dramatic it’s hard not to smile, after plunging sharply beneath the main line viaduct. The train manager exits, manually modifies the points, then switches ends with the driver.
The entire train goes in the opposite direction. In the twenty-first century, this type of railroad operation is more likely to be found in a museum exhibit than in use, but here it is, taking place on a Tuesday afternoon in Cornwall. Sitting on the right-hand side facing the direction of travel, or at least the direction of travel after the driver has sorted himself out, will maximize what comes next.
Beyond Coombe Junction lies a wooded valley that is truly lovely in the subtle way that the best English landscapes are. No spectacular revelation or self-announced postcard moment occurs. Glimpses of the East Looe River, the water catching light between the branches, can be seen as it creeps up on you through dense trees.
Because the intermediate stations require a sort of antiquated cooperation between passengers and crew that most modern rail travel has long since abandoned, St. Keyne Wishing Well Halt comes and goes, assuming you’ve told the guard you want it. Causeland comes next. Next, Sandplace. The river has now significantly widened; the estuary opens out with such generosity that it makes you question why you don’t do this more frequently. Even a serious birdwatcher would be delighted by the abundance of small egrets, gray herons, oystercatchers, and curlews that appear on the mudflats at low tide.
Knowing what nearly happened to all of this is worthwhile. Two weeks after the Looe Valley Line was permanently closed in the 1960s, Dr. Richard Beeching made extensive cuts to Britain’s branch lines. The transport minister at the time, Barbara Castle, intervened and stopped it. The line still operates today because of that intervention; it’s the kind of near-miss that tends to focus the mind on why these things are important.
The Devon and Cornwall Rail Partnership is currently in charge of operations the number of passengers is increasing annually. For those who are curious about the history of the line, which was first constructed to supplement a canal and opened for freight traffic in 1860 but didn’t start carrying passengers until 1879, there is a heritage center on Platform 3 at Liskeard.
The town of Looe is a fishing village with winding streets and a harbor that smells of independent pubs that appear to have existed since the fifteenth century, as some of them have. The Jolly Sailor is useful because it was published in 1516.
There’s a vineyard a short walk from Causeland station, a stone circle at nearby Duloe, a wishing well known for granting wishes, and six miles of coastline along the South West Coast Path toward Polperro. All you need are good shoes and a willingness to look up now and then.
The Looe Valley Railroad Line is a functional branch line that runs on its own schedule and in its own manner through one of Cornwall’s more sedate areas. It isn’t attempting to be anything else. Riding it gives me the impression that this is precisely how things ought to be done at Coombe Junction: slowly, scenically, with someone available to manually adjust the points. It should be noted that the trip back to Liskeard is equally enjoyable.
FAQs
Q: How long is the Looe Valley Line?
Seven miles, running roughly once an hour between Liskeard and Looe.
Q: What happens at Coombe Junction Halt?
The train reverses direction after the manager manually resets the points.
Q: Why does the line still exist today?
Transport minister Barbara Castle intervened to block its closure in the 1960s.
Q: Do all stations stop automatically?
No — passengers must tell the guard in advance to stop at halts.
Q: What can visitors do around Looe beyond the train ride?
Six miles of coastal path toward Polperro, a vineyard, and a stone circle await.
