Before 2000 I had been to Plymouth exactly once in my life and it was memorable only in that that trip preceded what was probably the worst holiday we have ever had.
From visiting friends in Plymouth (which was great fun) we went on to a holiday camp on the West Coast, which is now, mercifully, closed. The caravan allotted to us had been occupied by someone with a very nasty case of gastroenteritis, and had not been properly disinfected.
I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.
Somewhat illogically this left me with a distaste for Plymouth which, owing to the fact that my daughter married a Plymouth man is where we ended up in our old age. Despite my memories it has it’s beauty spots, particularly in the countryside round it. And I am rather fond of this view of Plymouth Hoe and Smeaton’s tower.