Bingham Grange, Bridport, Dorset – May 2014

The Dorset Diary pt 3 – The smell of money

Poole was the destination on Friday and we stopped first on the quay near the old town. The sun was out but it was a bitingly cold wind that blew across the harbour as we gazed at the Sunseeker factory on the opposite side of the quay. A number of yachts and motor cruisers were lined up here and indeed the cellophane wrapping was being removed from the shiny chrome fittings of one.  There was some serious hardware here, the sort of thing that even the most substantial of lottery wins couldn’t finance for long. I’m sure many have dreamed of their numbers coming up one day and how we’d spend it but knowing that this sort of thing would still be out of reach was quite sobering.

 

 

 

 

The reek of money was making us queasy so we headed away from the quay to the old town which was nice enough lthough pretty quiet but there was more life as we moved along to the high street to the main shopping area. Nothing much of note here, just the usual tax avoiding multi-nationals and a railway line that cut the high street in half.

On the other side of Poole Harbour  is the peninsula of Sandbanks. The beaches are beautiful – long stretches of pale golden sand populated with dog walkers taking in the bracing air. The stench of money had returned though as this area is one of the most expensive for property in Britain. Large houses and small apartment blocks back on to the beach offering the most stunning of views for the well heeled but one or two were up for sale. We poked our noses in the windows of an estate agents. one was for sale at a shade under eight million, though a couple were available for a more modest three and a half. A different world – even the beach huts looked luxurious. Heading away, we drove through the suburb of Canford Cliffs home to yet more people clearly with too much money (i.e. more than me!)

 

 

 

 

 

In the afternoon, having called at the Co-Op for a lunch of sarnies and crisps – no expense spared - we returned to Lulworth Cove and this time, with the weather at least dry, we actually got out of the car. The cove itself of course is the star of the show here but the street leading down to it is just as pretty. The private helicopter was in for a service so I wasn’t able to get the aerial photo’s this beautiful part of the coast deserves – there’s plenty on the ‘net anyway – but hopefully the pictures here will convey some of it’s beauty.

 

 

 

 

Saturday was a quiet day – we popped briefly in to nearby Wareham – a pleasant little walled Saxon town – for a stroll and some air and the returned to the site to take down the awning and packing up in preparation for coming home.

It was another great trip. Dorset is certainly a beautiful county and the coastline is stunning. There’s something nice to about caravanning in the winter – you have to be prepared of course – during one night the water in our aquaroll did start to freeze but a bit of insulation would have solved that. There is the advantage too that most places are quieter – Christmas shoppers not withstanding – although some attractions close down out of season. We didn’t get everything done of course. the deserted village of Tyneham will have to wait as will a look through Wareham forest. but  it’s good to have an excuse to come back.

Patsy is now almost empty and parked up for the winter - probably. I would imagine that our next trip wont be until the end of February, but who knows, maybe a miracle will occur and I’ll have a job by then and time won’t be so free and easy. Needless to say – but I will anyway – if we do get away, you’ll hear about it!

What a difference a year makes! This time last year we weren’t even contemplating a caravan. We had just returned from an autumn cruise and were working our butts off delivering them bloody parcels and counting the days before our post Christmas jaunt to the Canaries. The winter sun I shall miss – the parcels I don’t – not one bit!

Merry Christmas!

The Dorset Diary pt 2 – Smelling Purbeck air…..

Right, back home now from our last trip of the year and Patsy is being emptied out for the winter. I was planning to get another blog sent but whilst we were away but, well, best laid plans, or more accurately a dose of CBA (can’t be arsed) put paid to that idea!

Hopefully, those of you on the email list all got the last blog. Having sent them all out Tuesday night, over two thirds came back with various errors. It took several further attempts until the error messages ceased. Something to do with the sites tenuous unsecured Wi-Fi link? Who knows? Anyway it was sorted in the end and we adjourned to the nearest local boozer - called ‘The Silent Woman’ no less - yeah, I know, too easy - for a couple of very nice pints of Badgers ale in front of a roaring wood fire. Lovely.

Wednesday, and we headed west and, continuing our unofficial tour of British seaside resorts arrived at Bournemouth. Much bigger then either of us imagined Bournemouth shares many similarities with dear old Brighton. By day, pensioners browses the shops and inhabit the coffee houses whilst delegates attend meetings. By night the bars and nightclubs are vying for business from the large student population, enjoying, or at least enduring the patronage of hen and stag parties at the weekend. Another similarity is parking. The local council have got it tied up just as tight as they have in Brighton and it took a little hunting to find somewhere reasonable.

It’s quite an attractive place, very clean and tidy with some  well kept gardens and a renovated pier. In one of the gardens was a massive tethered hot air balloon promising fantastic views – had it been operating. Funiculars carry punters from the east and west cliffs right down to the beach, although clearly not in the winter. What does still work in the winter is the large manmade reef out in the bay, built to create a better surf. The waves were pretty innocuous when we were there but that didn’t stop one hardy soul from riding the waves and making a pretty good job of it too. It may have been more luck than judgement but I got some really good pictures of him in action too from our vantage point on the pier. So, another similarity with Brighton – men in black rubber……

  

We joined the grey army for tea and pastries in one of the department stores cafe’s  then had a bit of a drive around Boscombe to the east before heading back to base. The aforementioned pastries didn’t really hit the spot so we decided on an early tea and fired up the BBQ. Trev done the veg indoors whilst I took care of the meat outside. A nice warming real ale helped keep out the cold whilst cooking.

Thursday, and rain was promised at some point during the day so our plans were a bit loose, heading first down to the Isle of Purbeck. Not an island obviously – that would be too simple – but a peninsular at the eastern end of the Jurassic coast. First up was Swanage, a pretty little seaside resort right on the south eastern tip. Right away we liked it – it just had that nice look and feel – a sandy beach, promenade, a little Victorian pier and a quaint town with some VERY inviting looking pubs although it was too early, even for us. It was very clean and tidy, and obviously at this time of year, largely empty of tourists although one can only imagine how busy it gets in the summer – a decent one anyway. The pier has been restored and little brass plaques set in to the boards give the names of those who have contributed to it’s restoration.

Next up and with the rain now threatening we drove north across Studland Heath to the northern tip of the Isle of Purbeck  and the start of Poole Harbour. A chain ferry runs across from here to Sandbanks on the other side saving some 20 odd miles if you want to get to the other side. I’d already checked to find that it wasn’t running but it would have made for a nice circular route.

Lunchtime was beckoning, but the rain held off so we stopped at Corfe Castle and the lovely haunting ruins. In fact the village is just as pretty too. More inviting pubs here but we resisted. The bakers was the only retail outlet here to benefit from our patronage.

With a brief return to Patsy for sarnies we headed out again in search of the deserted village of Tyneham. I have to confess we got a bit lost as the village is no longer signposted – or it wasn’t on any of the signs we came across anyway. The roads got narrower, steeper and muddier but we did eventually come across the right road only to find that it was closed. A large part of this area is now used by the armed forces  as a firing range and roads are closed at various times for safety reasons. In fact the night before we heard a number of loud retorts coming from the depths of the forest and wondered if war had broken out, although it was more likely the local pik – sorry, our traveller friends from down the road after rabbits. Anyway, it wasn’t  a major disappointment as we turned tail and pressed on to Lulworth cove but pausing only briefly as the weather closed in. The contingency plan was put in to action – to Weymouth and an afternoon at the cinema. A decision that proved to be right one as the heavens had clearly opened whilst we’d been inside. The journey back to Patsy was hard enough work with the rain falling and the wind howling, not helped by the fact that I took a wrong turning and got stuck behind a tractor along it seemed with half of Dorset. We decided against getting the bbq out…..

Stand by for the 3rd and final part to follow very shortly…….