Around Britain

My first trip of this year on Around Britain started badly. I walked to Waterloo Station and took my place on the train to Axminster. It didn't start at the appointed time. There was an announcement that the emergency services had closed the line following an incident. However, our tickets would be recognised if we travelled from Paddington Station.

At Paddington I was told to take a train to Reading and then ask again. It was at least in the right direction. At Reading I was told to go to Basingstoke. There I could connect with a train to Axminster. At Basingstoke at about 14:15 I saw that the 12:08 to Axminster was delayed. The 15:08 to Axminster was also flagged up as delayed. A growing crowd milled about and the staff, although trying to be helpful, knew nothing. Suddenly the delayed 15:08 became due and arrived only 3 minutes late. It got me to Axminster in time for the bus to Lyme Regis.

Sometime during the day I was told that someone had committed suicide on the railway at Hook.

I climbed out of Lyme on the A3052. A mist inhibited vision. The Coastal Path left the road and climbed a muddy hillside. I was close to an area called the Spittles. Once a road near the coast here had led to Charmouth but it had been destroyed by landslides. I encountered a couple of American women, one of whom fell while descending muddy steps. The quantity of rain recently has been unprecedented in modern times.

Shortly after rejoining the the A3052 the Coastal Path turned right over a golf course. The low visibility had discouraged golfers. That was fortunate as they would never have seen us walkers trudging across the fairways.

I met a man moving well with ski sticks. We had an animated talk and I remarked that it was a pity we were walking in opposite directions. He replied that we wouldn't have stayed together for long as he liked his own space. This minor rebuff was issued in the friendliest manner.

As I approached Charmouth I was high above the land to my left. I looked down into a white mist, seeing nothing. There was the sound of traffic on a distant road down below. At Charmouth I encountered the American women again. They were from Maine. We took coffee in the same cafe.

My next target was Morecombelake. I left the town on the bridge over the River Char and climbed the narrow road up Stonebarrow Hill. This became a wide track when it entered National Trust property. I soon reached a closed NT shop and information centre on the site of an old radar station. The path became muddy. The mud was unavoidable so I walked straight through it and became caked in it up to my knees. After crossing the A35 I was on the fringes of Morecombelake.

I walked along the A35 on a decent pavement, eventually escaping onto the minor road to North Chideock. It was there that my day took a bad turn. Wanting to avoid the A35 at all costs, I turned north briefly then east as the map indicated that this led to a track that would take me to Symondsbury, just north west of Bridport. I ended up at a farm and there was no sign of a track going beyond the farm. There was no one about so I couldn't benefit from local knowledge.

I retraced my steps and went instead to Venn Farm with the idea of taking the Monarch's Way for a while until it reached a minor road leading to Bridport. I invested much time in this only to be confounded by the complete disappearance of the track. I had no appetite for striking across open farmland in these misty conditions. The landscape was hilly and I might have got seriously lost. I had no option but to go to Chideock on the A35 and hope for a pavement to take me into Bridport. I walked through the town and saw that the pavement ended beside the last house. The road was exceedingly busy with two carriageways. To walk along it would have been dangerous both to myself and the motorists. One further option was to go south to the Coastal Path but I was beaten. I did what I have never done before and completed the last couple of miles of this stage in a bus.

Mileage 9.77; total 3760.85.

Overnight I decided I had to return to Chideock. That was where I caught the bus yesterday. I had to remove this stain on my efforts over the last 25 years, This I would do whatever the inconvenience it caused. At Bridport bus station there was a bus due to go in one minute.

At Chideock I took the dead end road to Seatown. There I could see the SWCP climbing a steep hill. I stopped a few times on the ascent to appreciate the view which was plainly visible today. Apart from a nucleus of old houses, Seatown hosted three fields full of holiday cabins. A noisy machine was working to make the site ready for the influx.

The path doubled as the Monarch's Way which let me down so badly yesterday. On the descent to Eype Mouth I encountered a kissing gate where many boots had churned a slimy, slippery slope. It was such an obvious trap that I sought to counter it by clutching onto the gate post and a fence. Still I fell heavily and hurt my left side. It didn't trouble me when walking but I felt it whenever I leant over or twisted round.

At Eype Mouth there was a woman in the company of a friend preparing to set off. Her dog carried pannier bags on each side. I commented on this and was told that the animal carried its own food. Another steep climb beckoned so I set off once more.

On the descent to West Bay I slipped and fell on a sloping, muddy field. The woman with the dog was close behind me. I attempted to rise but my feet slipped away. The woman used ski sticks and she planted one beside me to help me get up. Before we continued she offered me one of her sticks to help me over this patch. I accepted.

The woman, Pip, is a member of the HM Coastguard Rescue Team at Bigbay in Devon. The volunteers rescue people trapped on cliffs, stuck in mud or struggling in the water. They also undertake other duties such as staffing helicopter landing sites for Air Ambulance, assisting police in searching for missing people or acting on reports of possible unexploded ordnance on beaches. Pip gave me a leaflet and I intend to make a contribution to help fund these laudable activities.

Pip was walking all the way to Poole with her dog, Bonnie. She planned to get to Abbotsbury that day. She deplored the fact that so many camp sites were not yet open. After the next two nights of camping she might be forced to stay in a hotel.

I walked from West Bay into Bridport. By now it was noon and my original plan, ambitious enough, to walk from Bridport to Chickerell was in ruins. I went to the Bus Station and the Weymouth bus, which stopped at Chickerell, was about to depart. I boarded it resolving to do this section another day.

Today 5.94 miles; total 3766.79

The Lugger Inn in Chickerell served an adequate dinner last night but had warned me in advance that they didn't serve breakfast. Yesterday afternoon I went to the local Morrisons convenience store to buy something to eat before setting out. Bananas and oranges were only sold in large packs that couldn't be broken up and there were no individual croissants or pastries. The only suitable item I could find was a small malt loaf. It had to do. I don't experience hunger pangs but I do weaken after prolonged exertion without sustenance.

I left the pub just after 7 a.m. and kept to the B3157. I picked up the Times and a coffee at a Co-op. The traffic was heavy and numerous children were walking to school. Younger ones were being driven by their parents to Nurseries and Primary Schools. The area was built up all the way from Chickerell to Wyke Regis. I joined the A354 which took me over Ferry Bridge towards Portland. On the bridge was a notice warning against jumping or diving off in view of strong currents and boats passing underneath. I appreciated having this advice.

Soon after the bridge Chesil Beach came alongside the road. It had separated itself from the mainland near Abbotsbury, creating a backwater between itself and the coast. Now it rejoined the land. It is made up of small stones and rises up like a low hill so that, at ground level, one cannot see beyond it. Its entire length is about 18 miles.

I reached Portland and entered Fortune's Well. A sign pointed towards local shops but the area seemed run down and the first cafe I saw had closed down. I was relieved to find another and ordered a latte and baguette. The latte was hot and liquid but had no other discernible qualities and tasted of nothing. The baguette was a toastie but I was relieved just to get something.

I climbed a steep hill away from Fortune's Well and passed a statue called “The Spirit of Portland.” There were two men and the prow of a boat. I suspect one of the men was a fisherman and the other a stone mason. Portland stone is famous and I passed a quarry a bit later. Later I learnt that 6 million tons of it had been used to create the deep water harbour between Portland and Weymouth. The foundation stone was laid by Prince Albert in 1849 and the completion stone was laid by Edward, Prince of Wales, (later Edward VII) in 1872.

I went through Weston and reached Portland Bill. There was a lighthouse and an observation tower surrounded by a platform near the top. When the road pavement ended I took a track but access was denied to those not having a beach hut. I thought I was justified in turning round to begin the hike back to Weymouth.

Near the Bill and next to the road was an 8000 year old mesolithic site. The notice said that a pit surrounded by stones was probably used for cooking. A stone axe and a pierced scallop shell were also found there.

I took hot chocolate and a couple of custard tarts at another Co-op but otherwise my return journey was uninterrupted. Just after Ferry Bridge I took the Rodwell Trail. Two sets of platforms betrayed its origin as a railway. In the 19th century there was a railway over a viaduct connecting Portland to the mainland.

I checked up on where the railway station was and then reached my hotel at about 4 p.m. According to the health function on my phone I did 42,630 steps today.

13.13 miles; 3779.92 in total.