My friend's face screwed up in mock horror: “Plymouth? You're going to Plymouth on a Bank Holiday weekend...by train?” Well, yes. But despite the ill omens, I found the journey painless. The train may have been late and full to bursting - some people's idea of hell - but once past Exeter, we glided alongside the water under an open sky, past boat wrecks and the vivid splashes of fishing villages, and even the quarrelling passengers seemed to disappear.

Arriving was a different matter. Plymouth was charmless. I whiled away three hours in the port, was viciously overcharged for weak coffee in a “boutique” bistro, and even the Mayflower Steps struggled to make an impression. “They're not real, you see,” one shopkeeper told me. I was glad to catch a boat to Kingsand in Cornwall.

The Cremyll ferry takes you at slow speed across the River Tamar to Mount Edgcumbe, an implausibly simple journey considering that within 20 minutes of leaving Plymouth you find yourself landing on a verdant peninsula.

Kingsand and Cawsand sit side by side farther along the headland, but are divided by history. Cawsand is in what was once the Cornish side, Kingsand in old Devon. A pub, the Halfway House, marks the division, and everyone here is familiar with tales of marauding sailors and heroic smugglers.

Kingsand manages to carry off a peaceful, yet cosmopolitan, air, despite its bloodthirsty history. The winding streets are rich with character and surprise. As well as old pubs, there is a deli and even a crumb museum (a cabinet of crumbs left by visiting celebrities - Pete Doherty and David Bailey among them - in the Old Boatstore café). If that's not quite your idea of culture, there are several galleries, including one in the boutique B&B where I stayed.

So this is how you do boutique. The Westcroft dates back to 1760. It was an inn until 1911, has a secret room that reveals its past as a brothel (perhaps), and an old smuggling tunnel. Escaping city-dwellers now enjoy elegant rooms (Regency wallpaper, modern flourishes), including the Clock Tower suite, hidden in the rafters. Here, the skylights, clawfoot bath and antique double bed all whisper “honeymoon”. Throw in a substantial breakfast, and optional massages or art classes, and a weekend could easily turn into a week.

The Westcroft is ambitious. The owners, Sarah and Dylan McLees Taylor, are evangelical about the area - and their enthusiasm is contagious. The village is proud, full of young families and ready for the limelight - there's even a “budding Jamie Oliver” near by. The View, in Millbrook, serves up sweeping scenery and the promise of new talent. The owner, Matt Corner, has already made it into the Michelin Guide. It's worth the drive for the roast scallops alone.

Add to that the Red Pig Ferry (weather permitting), dolphins (luck permitting), and the walk through thick forest to Penlee Point - and you have an idyllic getaway that is worth the pain of Plymouth.

NEED TO KNOW

Westcroft Guesthouse (01752 823216, www.westcroftguesthouse.co.uk and www.babyfriendlyboltholes.co.uk); doubles from £70. First Great Western (www.firstgreatwestern.co.uk) has saver returns from London to Plymouth for £65

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