Hayle does not look like much at first: a long, low town strung along an estuary, a scatter of industrial buildings, quays slowly silting up and a lot of sand. But in the nineteenth century this was one of the engine rooms of the world. Two great foundries here, Harvey's and the Copperhouse company, built the steam engines that pumped water out of Cornish mines and later out of mines and waterworks on several continents. The harbour shipped copper ore out and coal in, and the whole place is part of the Cornwall and West Devon Mining Landscape World Heritage site.
Walk along the quays and you will see the bones of that past: granite wharves, the long footbridge over the old sluicing pools that kept the harbour clear, and the restored buildings of Harvey's foundry. The engines built here were enormous, with cylinders big enough to stand in, and they were shipped across the world, including to the Netherlands to help drain the Haarlemmermeer polder.
The estuary is now a nature reserve, a favourite haunt of birders who come for waders, gulls, egrets and winter visitors in large numbers. Beyond it, the Towans, a long line of sand dunes, stretch along St Ives Bay to Godrevy Point, where the lighthouse inspired Virginia Woolf's novel To the Lighthouse. Seals haul out on the beaches below Godrevy, and the sunsets over St Ives on the far side of the bay are glorious.
The riding in West Cornwall is a mixed bag. The A30 is busy and uninspiring, but the coastal roads are narrow, twisty and often lined with high hedges, which makes them fun but blind. Expect tractors, camper vans and holiday traffic in summer, and do not trust a satnav that sends you down a single-track lane with grass in the middle. Spring and early autumn are the sweet spot: warm enough, less crowded, and the light on the sea is beautiful.
Hayle has fuel, shops and plenty of places to eat. A Cornish pasty from a local bakery is almost mandatory, and Hayle has a couple of bakers with strong local followings. St Ives, five kilometres away, is busier and prettier, with a Tate gallery and narrow streets, but parking is a nightmare, so leave the bike at the edge of town.