Around Britain

My train journey from Waterloo to Weymouth passed without incident. After recent experiences on my travels, including two suicides on the railway, I thought that worth mentioning.

This evening I ate in the street outside an Italian restaurant. The inside was empty but the girl in charge told me it was fully booked. An elderly tattooed woman sat down at an adjoining table and ordered a coffee. I avoided catching her eye but she commented that my meal looked good and she might return later to eat. Before that she was going with friends to an Elvis tribute performer that she liked. She confided that she'd been banned from the Black Dog, a local hostelry. I suggested that she must have done something awful for the pub not to take her money. Apparently the landlady had been dancing wildly and had twice been in danger of falling backwards onto my informant. The first time she put up her hands to fend her off. The second time she gave the woman a firm shove. For that she was banned.

My hotel was next to Weymouth Station. There was a popular and noisy bar for straight drinking with no food. That was where I registered on my arrival yesterday evening. Next door with a separate entrance was a hotel with rooms on four floors and a breakfast room.

At breakfast I mentioned that I couldn't make the T.V. work and that the shower made a screeching noise and only delivered cold water. I emphasised that, apart from this, the room was excellent. Also, I said that I was only mentioning these details as I was staying a second night. The man who served my breakfast was most accommodating. He said he'd deal with this immediately. Later he told me that the T.V. was OK but had been adjusted for viewing Sky. He apologised for the light on the boiler having gone out which it did very occasionally.

I set off from the prominent clocktower on the promenade at about 9.25 a.m. The sun was out and so was a multitude enjoying the walk, the beach and the sea. I soon passed Lodmoor Country Park where small lakes were a magnet for birds. I was walking parallel to the B3155 which eventually branched off inland. The promenade now ended and I was forced onto the beach. I soon reached a concentration of popular attractions at the end of an access road. This area was thronged with holidaymakers but beyond I could see the Coast Path. When I reached it, the path was almost deserted apart from a few casual walkers. At a path junction I took the Osmington option and went through the village on the A353. Just beyond it there was a right turn which I took. This went past two substantial campsites which were being well used. The first levied a £17 charge but offered a block with toilets and showers.

Near the village of Osmington Mills I turned left on a public footpath. The path I'd intended to take was open only to residents on a private estate. My path reached a road which led back to this estate and this access was also closed to the public. Fortunately, in my direction, the road was open. At the next junction I was surprised at the volume of traffic on what was a narrow country lane. It led to Ringsland Bay and the land overlooking the bay was National Trust. I went through a large car park with a path leading down to the beach.

After that I went closer to the sea than I'd intended near White Nothe. I took a path inland past an old barn where old tyres had been dumped. This path brought me to a road just to the east of West Clandon. I then saw that the path I'd been on had a prominent notice in red that it was private with no public right of way.

The next village was Chaldon Herring (or East Clandon). I stopped by the village hall to eat a banana and hotel biscuits. I sat by a gate giving access to a graveyard surrounding the church. It was quite some village. In the early 1900s there'd been a community of artists, writers and poets living here, loosely connected to the Bloomsbury set. The road took me on to the next village of Winfrith Newburgh where I'd hoped to transfer onto a footpath taking me to Wool avoiding the A352. I found an old sign for the path but at that point the path had been ploughed out of existence. I walked on the minor road leading north east out of Winfrith Newburgh in the hope that I'd find this footpath later on but I only came across another footpath leading to the A road. Even that petered out in a field of wheat. I walked the line of this footpath, regretting that locals didn't keep it going, but why would they if it only leads to a busy road. I was now next to the road and could see it had no pavement though there was a walkable mown verge. Unfortunately this didn't last and I was walking through thick high vegetation. The traffic whizzed by and I avoided the road itself for fear of causing an accident. Fortunately I soon reached a roundabout just before Wool and could then join an asphalted path for pedestrians and cyclists into the town.

At Wool Station I was joined by three generations of an Indian family visiting Britain. The young man in the party asked me whether they had to get their tickets validated so I told them that wasn't necessary. He then tried to enter the Gents but it was locked as was the Ladies. The ticket office was closed and there was no staff member on the station. He resorted to the Information pad which he activated. This uttered “Please wait” and carried on doing so for next half hour until the train arrived. I wondered whether it would react in the same way if I pressed the emergency button. In the meantime there were announcements on the loudspeaker on three themes. One related to the new timetable about to be introduced; another was a security message with the hackneyed wording “See it, say it, sort it”; the last was about the certainty of overcrowded trains tomorrow when Southampton (the local football team) play Leeds at Wembley to decide which of them is promoted to the Premier League next season.

By this evening the weather turned. There was a threat of rain and I'd gone out for a meal without waterproofs. I chose a Chinese Restaurant in the next street to my hotel. It only had six tables and was heavily dependent on the takeaway trade. They were busy and the telephone kept ringing with orders and then enquiries as to what had happened to the delivery. The restaurant took cash only and I wasn't told about this by the obese girl acting as waitress and receptionist. They'd run out of paper napkins for which the girl apologised. In fact she spent much of her time apologising. The food was adequate but my bill included a 20% supplement. I enquired about this and the girl said she'd been told to add this and didn't know what it was for. Requested to find out, she then said it was a tax commonly levied by local restaurants. I said there was no such tax and the message came back that they'd settle for what the bill should have been all along. There was no tip.

Distance today 15.39; total 3815.38.

My T.V. and shower still didn't work this morning but I managed without.

Today started with a moral dilemma. I intended to take the train from Weymouth to Wool to continue from where I'd finished yesterday. I arrived at the station about 20 minutes before the departure time. The ticket office was closed although another staff member thought the counter clerk was somewhere in the station. I went to the ticket machine but had difficulty in reading the instructions. I asked a member of staff for help but he said he was unable to cope with machines and wasn't even able to operate an ATM. The train driver went by so I asked him about buying my ticket on the train. There'd been announcements that anyone travelling without a ticket would be fined £100. The driver thought the ticket inspector would have a moan and then sell me a ticket without imposing a fine. I returned to the machine but there was now a queue of people buying tickets and, if I held them up, they might miss the train. The departure time became imminent so I boarded in the hope that I'd be dealing with someone reasonable. I entered the third carriage of five so that the inspector would reach me before we got to Wool. The lead carriage was first class and the second was the quiet coach.

The train was quite busy and the inspector had to make lengthy announcements as we left each station. As Wool came ever closer there was less and less time for me to explain my position and avoid the fine. I thought that, when the inspector entered my carriage, I'd go up to him but he never did. When the train stopped at Wool, I pressed the button to open the door but the door jammed. Now I was really in trouble, trapped on the train as I tried to leave it without a ticket. A woman on the platform managed to open the door and I made my escape.

I realise that this is a public acknowledgement of what happened but I never intended to avoid payment. In mitigation I plead that the railway must share the blame for the lack of attention to the difficulties faced by the elderly and infirm.

By 9.15 a.m. I was walking away from Wool Station. I turned onto a minor road towards Stogborough. Despite the bad forecast I only experienced one brief shower. On my left was a barricaded military firing range flying red flags. Notices warned of death to anyone who entered from live shells and bombs. Shortly after West Holme I crossed the B3070, passed over a railway line and reached a junction. I now faced an awkward transition to the road south for Furzebrook. I decided to take the path through the Stogborough Nature Reserve, and then follow the A351 to a roundabout where my road began. As the A road was next to a town I thought there'd be a pavement but there wasn't. However, there was a strip behind a white line off the main carriageway so I made use of that.

My plan now was to go as far as the ridge surmounting the Purbeck Hills and walk along it to Corfe Castle. However, I was tempted by a sign to Blue Pool indicating a footway to Corfe Castle 2.5 miles away. I reached the almost full car park for Blue Pool. This had once been a clay pit. Now it had become a lake set in a nature reserve. There were Tea Rooms and the longest rope bridge in the U.K. I encountered a steward. He confirmed there was a path to Corfe Castle but sometimes it wasn't easy to follow and it'd be very muddy after last night's heavy rain. I went ahead with instructions about which way I turned at a couple of forks.

The path turned out to be the Purbeck Way and large marker stones confirmed which way I had to turn at the two forks. Long sections were waterlogged but I managed to circumvent the worst of the mud. Then I noticed that the occasional signs were indicating a public footpath but no longer the Purbeck Way. I reached a large house in the middle of a wood from which came the sounds of exotic birds. At the house gate there was a drive leading away from it and a continuation of the footpath. Now I was at a complete loss as there were no signs.

Two well behaved dogs appeared followed by a young woman. I asked for her help in getting back on route to Corfe Castle. She turned out to be the daughter of the owners of the house outside which I was standing. Apparently they kept turkeys, guinea fowl and peacocks. She said she'd show me the way to Norden Farm campsite. There I'd have a choice between a path at the bottom of the ridge and another on top with spectacular views. Emma was extremely energetic and wore wellington boots which enabled her to plough through all the mud and water. With a struggle I just managed to keep up. We reached the campsite and she pointed out the path alongside the site. I thanked her for her help and headed for the ridge.

The path on top was narrow and grassy and didn't seem much used. Soon I could see a cluster of buildings some way ahead and I looked for the castle which I'd not seen before. Eventually I decided it must be the medieval tower in the middle of the town with a flag flying from the top. I'd almost reached the town before I realised my mistake. What I'd seen was the church. The magnificent castle had somehow been obscured by the lie of the land. On a mound overlooking the town rose one of the most majestic castles that I've ever seen. It was a ruin but the scale and height of what remained transcended its partial destruction after a siege in the Civil War. It had been build in the time of William the Conqueror as one of a series intended, no doubt, to cow the Saxon populace.

I enjoyed a sandwich and drink in the churchyard before searching for the minor road to Swanage. I thought I could get to it through the station but it had no back exit. On the station a crowd waited to board the steam train to Swanage. The road was narrow with a line of earth and small plants running down the middle. Initially there were cars parked on one side despite the double yellow line. There was a little traffic but not enough to be troublesome. I passed an occasional farm but no villages. Eventually Washpond Lane took me downhill towards Swanage past Herston Halt , a request stop on the steam railway, and onto the A351 as it entered the town. I reached my hotel in the town centre at about 5 p.m.

Mileage today 14.69; total 3830.07.

I didn't have breakfast in my hotel. Hotels levy a standard charge regardless of what one eats. That tends to favour the heavy eaters. I found an independent cafe near the sea front which served an excellent poached eggs on toast, latte and croissant. Fortified by this I set off on yet another fine day.

Swanage has a promenade facing Swanage Bay which I followed northwards. When the road turned inland the promenade became smaller as beach huts pressed in on the space. It ended altogether without me having found a path up the cliff so I sought local advice. A young woman said there was such a path beyond the third groyne on the beach ahead. The path was a bit battered by coastal erosion but she thought it manageable. So it proved and I began to climb. Rather than follow the coast path I thought I'd take the path over Ballard Down, a more direct route to Studland, a village beyond the Down. No convincing path appeared so I kept to the coast path which was in constant use.

At the crest a magnificent expanse to the north was revealed. Beyond Studland village I could see Studland Heath, Poole Harbour, Poole itself and Bournemouth. A sandy beach ran all the way along the coast to the ferry. The coast path would have taken me down to Studland but I decided to keep that view in sight for a while and walked towards the summit of Ballard Down. Before I reached the summit obelisk, I saw a path downhill, faintly apparent as the flattened grass reflected the light. The descent was steep but I reached a field where it levelled off. I was surprised to see that the ears of wheat were fully developed although still uniformly green.

I reached a kissing gate only to find an extensive quagmire on the far side. There was no avoiding it so I ran across getting filthy in the process. Now there was no path to be seen. I moved irresolutely across a couple of fields until I saw a gate over which I climbed. Through thick vegetation I reached a road which took me to Studland.

On my map the coastal path was shown as running along the beach all the way to the ferry so I made for that. The beach was a magnet for a multitude of people. Their cars filled several car parks. The coast path only existed as a beach walk which didn't appeal. I took a path inland and eventually reached a Hide for bird watching next to Little Sea, an inland lake. The water blocked further progress so I had to take to the road to reach the ferry.

There was no charge for foot passengers travelling to Sandbanks and only £1 was levied on foot passengers travelling in the opposite direction. Cars were charged about £5 and commercial vehicles and buses a bit over £10. I just caught the ferry before it crossed over the entrance to Poole Harbour. The water was bustling with craft of all sorts, particularly yachts and speed boats. The ferry was a chain ferry. It operates on two hardened steel chains, each 1235 feet long, anchored at either side of the harbour entrance. I suppose the point of this is to keep the ferry on a fixed course regardless of tides and currents. Presumably no one is needed to steer the vessel. Wear and tear on the chains causes them to stretch and two links have to be taken out of each chain every fortnight in order to maintain the optimum length.

Sandbanks is a notoriously wealthy enclave and the property, mostly flats, did look well maintained. Sandbanks appears to be an island connected to the mainland by a narrow strip of land. At the far end of the island I passed a Rick Stein restaurant well patronised by those taking lunch. I was probably expending more energy than any of the customers and yet felt no need of more than a couple of small hotel wafers. Rick Stein would struggle if he depended upon people like myself.

As I walked along the harbour side of the strip towards the mainland, I saw dozens of youngsters on surfboards with sails attached. These frequently capsized and, assuming deep water, it seemed to require no little skill to raise the sail from the water to get the craft moving again. The water, however, seemed to be very shallow and those who'd capsized were standing on the harbour floor even quite far out from where I was walking. Others seemed to have sails floating high above them attached by string to the surf board. To manage such a craft must demand an even higher degree of skill.

I reached the mainland and reached the promenade along the sea front. This went on for miles. When within sight of Bournemouth Pier I was confronted by a barrier controlled by a solitary policewoman. There's been a murder on the beach a day or so before. A man had attacked two women with a knife. One died at the scene and the other was taken to hospital with serious injuries. The area up to the pier had been closed to enable the police to search for evidence. I couldn't see any sign that the police were actually looking for this evidence.

Turned back, I took the first opportunity to climb up the cliffs above the beach. I went through the Chine Gardens. As I walked along the top I could see that the police had also closed a road giving access to the cliff top above where the crime had been committed. Soon afterwards I reached my hotel.

Mileage today 11.56; total 3841.63.