Saturday 16
The next morning I drove to Corfe castle and parked at the park and ride just outside of town and dithered whether to get the steam train to town or walk, seeing as it was only 3/4 mile and the next train wasn't due for another 25 minutes I decided to walk. It only took 15 minutes to get to the castle gates in the town centre where I had to make a very important decision - pay £8.30 to go into the castle where I had been twice before already but I was there now so I should really go in again, not go in or become a national trust member and then I don't have to analyze each and every National Trust place I may want to visit that I was in a good distance of visiting. I went to the church with some pamphlets to think about it and do some sums. There were at least 3 National Trust places I wanted to visit on this trip, there's also the free parking for members, and its less that £6 a month. I decided to become a member. I then dashed around the castle rejoicing in my new National Trust freedom, after which I took the train to Swanage.
The steam train that had been running earlier had now broken down so it was a diesel engine instead, it pulled the same lovely carriages though and it was a nice ride of 25 minutes during which time I spread out the map and thought about a walk recommended by the National Trust lady who seemed to think a walk from Corfe Castle to Old Harry rock would only take 45 minutes and in fact you could walk there and back quite easily. I considered this information against the distance and terrain on the map and decided she must be a very fit person, or more likely has never done the walk as she also told me she had recently relocated to Dorset. From Swanage train station it was more like 9 miles and then there was still the short distance back to the car park.
Arriving at the station, I walked down through the high street with the throng on their way to the beach and then past the beach onto the coastal path which ascended to the top of the cliff and gave a choice of north back to Corfe or South to Old Harry, I continued the path to Old Harry rock, it was quite busy as it was a Saturday, and stopped at a point that gave a nice view over Poole harbour and down to the rocks, looking back up the hill I decided not to walk any further down it if I was to walk all the way back to Corfe Castle, so I ate a bagel, my fruit and a packet of salty crisps. Fortified I pressed on, back up the hill to the point at which the path had divided and this time headed north towards Corfe. Also unlike the National Trust lady's description that once you are on the hill it is flat and easy, the path climbed, briefly levels and then descends back to almost sea level in order to cross the valley to the next range, where the path ascends for over a mile and there eventually it flattens and is quite glorious. For the last few miles happy chap with a little Westie dog caught up with me and chatted and walked together until Corfe, the dog had an endearing trick of doing a handstand when it had a wee, which was often.
Feeling famished I had dinner at a pub in Corfe Castle and then back to the campsite for slumber.
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| Looking towards Corfe Castle |
Sunday 17
On the main road before the turning down the track to the campsite is T.E. Lawrence's house, as it was just around the corner and I was now a proud member, I went to visit. Annoying it didn't open until 11am so I dawdled and decamped as slowly as possibly but even so I was still there too early and the gates were shut, not being able to immediately turn around I continued and parked a few hundred meters down the road at a tank training viewing area and walked back to the house.
The house was perfect, it reminded me of a dolls house, Mums dolls house. With paneled walls, the bathroom looked surprising modern, I was interested in the cork tiles used on the bathroom walls. Everything about the place was simple and nicely thought out. Lawrence was killed not far from the house whilst delivering a letter , he'd encountered some cyclists whilst on his Brough Superior SS100 - the 7th Brough motorcycle he'd owned and spilled off, not wearing much more than a flat cap and a pair of goggles, he died. T.E. Lawrence rose to unwanted fame during his wartime activities in Arabia, he was an archaeologist, an officer and a diplomat, after the war to avoid unwanted attention he changed his name and enlisted as an aircraftsman in the RAF, but eventually his cover was rumbled and he had to left the RAF so he changed his name again and enlisted in the Tanks Corp and bought the cottage as a retreat at Clouds Hill.
Whilst at uni I cycled to Lulworth cove, took a picture and then went back and painted it, it is a splendid painting. So I went back to admire the cove, unfortunately it was Sunday and all people from everywhere were there, there was no hope of parking in the car park, silly idea, so I went back in the direction of Durdle Door and parked on the road out of town and walked in. It was heaving, anyone not pushing a pram was eating an ice cream, some were doing both. I left the crowd and went to look at my painted scene. It was still lovely, I walked up the bank inside the scene I painted and sat with a view towards the cove and ate my lunch, in the time it took to eat a bagel 4 cars left the car park and 16 cars entered, 5 of those carried straight on past the car park initially in an effort to walk the least distance possible to the ice cream vendors little knowing they would only have to turn around in about 20 metres and go back into the car park, queue and then drive to the far end of the field to actually get a spot and walk back. This was quite pleasurable to watch.
Looking at the map there was a coastal path to Durdle door I was originally going to walk, looking over to the path now showed a steady stream of pedestrian traffic, but there was another sign to Dungy Head up a nice shaded path, I started up the path and just got my camera out in time to capture a snake wriggle across the path. The path was splendid, not only did it avoid a long boring ascent with lots of people dribbling ice cream, it was also just better, Dungy head gave a fantastic view of the beaches of Durdle door and the crowds on them. I sat down and ate the rest of my lunch and sadly the last of the bagels - they were splendid, and took photos before heading back to the car and onto my next campsite on the other side of Weymouth in a tiny hamlet of Puncknowle. I chose this place because there was a pub in the village where I planned to have dinner. I pulled into the campsite and found a nice shaded area, there was only one other camper, fantastic, as I was getting my tent out a gruff woman appeared across the field and demanded I come and check in. I followed her to one of the caravans I had just thought were caravans on arrival and stood in the blasting heat on the doorway while she attempted to write some details on a red tent tag.
'What's your name?'
I pointed to the very misspelled name she had on her list as me.
'How many nights are you staying?'
'One night'
'Do you have a small tent?'
'Yes, it's a one man tent'
'Is it a small tent? '
I realised at this point I had provided too much information about the tent and this had perhaps confused her and having clearly lived in a caravan all her life she didn't understand tent technicalities.
'Yes it is small tent. '
'What's your car registration? '
'W717OAP'
'w1771'
'No its 717'
'W1771717'
No its just W.7.1.7.O.A.P
'W7711oafp'
At this point she scribbles angrily at her markings and barks 'It's no use! I can't hear what you're saying with those people talking outside!'Those people appeared to be her friends as she had been talking to them earlier. I was standing right next to her quickly wilting in the heat of her doorstep which seemed to be magnified and keen to get this procedure over with. I suggested I write the number out for her.
'Do you want a shower token? Its 40p for 7 minutes. ' It always disappoints me when they charge for showers. 'Yes please. ' I said
'Did you want a shower token i can't remember. '
For God's sake woman I just told you one second ago! 'Yes. I Would Like A Shower Token!'
Eventually I was allowed to step away from the furnace heat of her caravan doorstep and go back to the cool shade of my pitch and set up my one person tent. I had taken 2 tents, a fairly standard but older and quite terribly designed 2 man dome tent which Dad had found abandoned near the house, I can see why it was left now as I was tempted to do the same thing, so it was back to my Canadian Eureka! Spitfire Solo tent from now on, it's a fantastic tent and what a name, it also had some big exclamation marks on it, it has the same effect as going into a small cosy living space with soft furnishing in it, you feel cosy and safe. And so finally to the pub for some great sounding mediocre standard pub fare with a glass of nothing special wine.
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| Durdle Door |
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| Weymouth |
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| Puncknowle campsite |
After a good nights slightly sloping sleep I used my valuable shower token, decamped and was on my way to Lyme Regis. I parked at a car park at the top of town for £2 for all day and walked in through the center and had a poke around in some of the trendy nautical clothes shops and a nice old rambling bookshop with a grumpy man behind the counter. A lady at the back of the shop was looking for something, probably something on a certain topic and the staff member responsible for organising the books in that section took great pride in his alphabetical placements and proceeded to point out all the sorts of books available in that section, she was politely making oh right noises but probably didn't need to be told all the sections but could just read the labels herself, I quickly ran away before I had to endure the same thing. I walked on through some lovely gardens to the beach and then up to the cliff walks which are mostly shaded, the walk way used to be a lot nearer the cliff top, but it fell into the sea and so rerouted inland a bit.
It was another hot day, I didn't plan on walking too far as I still had to drive to Totnes, after seeing a sign for Chimney rock I thought this was a good as any target to walk to, the rock itself it quite small and yes a little like a chimney and up quite a lot of steps. Back to town I collected Bluey and rattled away to my Totnes airbnb, the sat nav decided to only give out selected directions and by this means I ended up in somewhere I really didn't want to be threading through a narrow town center and then up a dead end. Bluey doesn't have air con and to be comfortable in heat I need both front windows down to create a through flow of air, so stopping and looking at the tiny map on the phone whilst the car feels 40 degrees inside is not easy, I quickly memorised the route and then ignored any other directions the GPS cared to tell me and found the lovely Totnes.
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| Lyme Regis |
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