Travel with Manfred

Travelogues from around the world

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Copyright © 1995 by Manfred P.. All rights reserved.

Aug. 19, 1995

England's South Coast

A European Summer Weekend

by

Manfred P.

Keywords: England, tourist, travel trip report, travel log, travelogue.

My heart rate was 40 beats above normal levels and my chest was heaving with my heavy breathing. Do I have the guts? Should I step forwards and leap into thin air leaving the safety of the land behind me? The sensation of the fall was short and next I felt the water pressure on my ears and the sand of the sea bed between my toes. I knew all along that I had to do it in order to avoid regretting a missed opportunity for the next year. Nonetheless, I was standing on top of the cliff for at least a couple of minutes before I had overcome the fearful side of myself. The jump was about 9 yards and landed in a clear and acceptably cold Atlantic ocean. Next, I was swimming over to a rock to climb out of the ocean to go through the adrenaline rush one more time.

I was on the Portland Peninsula in the south of England enjoying a weekend getaway. It actually started Friday evening when I took the tube to Heathrow to pick up my European sized rental car. Driving was an experience by itself. I truly got a kick out of it. Shifting with my left hand and turning my head to the left in order to look into the rear view mirror was a strange feeling. Learning how to drive on the "wrong" side of the road was easier than I thought. After a couple of turns I had the hang of it. In the worst case I had to think for a second and do the opposite from what I am used to. On the way from the car rental place to the highway, I guess I should use 'motorway', I learned the concept of a round-about, a weird invention to eliminate traffic lights but allows more than four roads to meet. Next I found out that the British are not any more law obeying than the rest of the world. I have no clue what the speed limit on motorways is but when I was going 90, just a little bit above the average flow of traffic, many cars still passed me. Riding 'literally' into the sunset I had the to opportunity to help a stranded motorist. Other than that I enjoyed the scenery, the countryside with dry brown lightly rolling hills and large English-style farms.

This summer is the hottest in England in a long time. It is definitely as warm as Palo Alto, and I heard from other people that it is warmer than Spain and Greece and that all European's are flocking to England to soak up the sunshine. It didn't rain for eight weeks and the weather forecast predicts no rain for another four weeks. In Hyde Park the grass is dead and brown which is a fairly unusual sight. In the tube it's sticky and muggy. But, as a trade off, it is very pleasant to walk around at midnight when the air is still warm. I take that trade any time.

I whisked through the country side and watched the sun lower itself inch by inch and turn more and more orange with each inch closer to the horizon. Soon the horizon itself turned into a reddish layer with many dark spots. Rock music came from the cheap stereo of the car and had a hard time shadowing the loud engine noises. After darkness I made it into Bournemouth, the typical British resort. I have spent part of a summer in Eastbourne when I was a teenager. Eastbourne and Bournemouth are very much alike. Both feature the ocean as a main attraction, have a pier with a gambling hall and typical adorable English houses that are not separated by space but visually by color.

First I drove around looking for a Bed-and-Breakfast place. The streets were busy with vacationers on a stroll. To my dislike initially all B&B places had "No vacancy" signs. Not giving up easily I eventually found a small place that still had a room left. I was positively surprised by the cost. Just $30. A good deal. While paying the owner I had left my car parked illegally. So, after getting the key I went on to find a parking space. There were none for blocks and blocks. With all the one way streets and not being familiar with the city I got lost after driving around for 20 minutes looking for a spot. Pretty funny, I had paid for a room but couldn't find the place anymore. Well, a simple question to a pedestrian and I was reoriented and on my way again. Not long though before the traffic came to a stand still. The reason was obvious. A firework spectacle had hundreds of eyes glued to the black sky that burst into colorful sparkles. I turned the engine off and enjoyed the show as well. I thought that that must be the weekly Friday night tourist firework. Only on the next day did I learn that this was the VJ-Day firework. Most likely just like I you will go: "VJ? What the hell is that?" Somehow I figured V stands for victory and I guessed right. J stands for Japan. The WWII victory day over Japan. I am not sure if I would personally celebrate that. It sounds a lot like celebrating 50 years since the drop of the first two atomic bombs. Maybe I have become to politically correct in the US. But somebody's victory is also someone's loss.

Eventually I did find a parking space. Thereafter I was off to explore Bournemouth at night. The board-walk along the beaches goes on for miles. The breeze from the ocean feels good and despite the time it was still warm. I loved it. Most places were shutting down and by midnight the only entertainment left was the two guys with their fairgrounds booths. One was a measure-your-strength kind of deal where you hit a target with a sledge hammer to catapult a weight up a measuring stick with a bell on the top. The crowd cheers in awe whenever the bell got struck. The other guy had this weird ride I couldn't resist. I got strapped into this set of three circular iron frames. My hands, legs, and hips tied down and stretched, the guy set off to spin the frames which rotate at different angles. That thing whirled me around, upside down, changed directions like crazy, and soon I was glad that had only a real small dinner. I was dizzy and glad when the ride was over. It was fun but the beauty is in the shortness. Afterwards I just randomly walked around to get a feel for the small city.

The night was hot and no blanket was needed. To make sure I am not going to miss anything I got up by 8:30, early considering I was on vacation. The breakfast was really nice, the wife cooked and the husband served and did the dishes while we talked about life and the universe. I digged in and had cereal for starters, juice, then toast, ham, eggs, tea, and finish it all of milk and a jam sandwich. That hit the spot. Stuffed I headed out back to the beach of course. I walked along the beach all the way to the next village Poole and back. While working off my breakfast I took pleasure in the sight of a few top-less women hiding in the crowd stretched out in the sand. Most people are expectedly rather white like myself, the occasional tanned people on the other hand seem to be showing of their tan with true pride and a grin on their face. After a few hours in the sun I settled down in the shade under the pier. Besides reading a book I also checked out the babes and the activities on the water. Renting a speed boat was popular. The same speed boat kept going up and down at top speed for what seemed hours. Para-sailing was a more gracious sport available. And for the retirees the good old pedal-boat was the option of choice. The water temperature was okay, refreshing but not freezing cold. The waves were calm and gentle and the ocean surface was flat with the usual sparkling reflections of the sun. My attention span while reading the book was short. I have the feeling the last time I read a book was last Christmas. Every few pages I closed the book and let my eyes scan my surroundings.

Mid-afternoon I had enough of the beach and it was time to move on. The road lead me to Dorchester a small very traditional town. Again I was trying to find B&B places but I wasn't very successful. People then told me I should ask at the local pubs. They had three pubs in town and I got lucky at the second one. Again it was a charming and cozy place that I prefer ten times over the deluxe class hotels in the big cities. It was great. The first stay in a pub. In the evening I strolled along The City Walk that lead from ruins of a Roman family home to a small castle and other sights. It is highly recommendable. Stretches of the several mile long walk followed a lovely creek. Just thinking about this place while writing this up puts me in a good mood. I just can't help it. Everything was perfect, the weather, the environment, ... A delight. For dinner I had fish and chips, you can tell I was very creative when looking for a diner. Afterwards I headed for my pub. The beauty of pubs is that every one serves different beer. In a weeks stay in England you never have to drink a beer twice. It adds to the excitement if there is always something new to try. While making small-talk I was told that the pub is more than a hundred years old. A historical landmark! Just kidding. A jazz band was playing to bring more customers in. They played well as far as I can tell. I am not a jazz expert but one doesn't have to be in order to enjoy the music. A local guy sipping a beer next to me later joined the band while the singer took a break to smoke a cigarette and we critiqued the "new" band member together. I felt more like a get-together of friends than a pub. Sort of like the bunch in Cheers. After having my share of tasty room temperature warm beer I went upstairs and fell asleep listening to the drum beat and the voice of the female singer.

The breakfast was as good as the day before. An egg fried on a toast with two big slices of ham. Plenty of tea and marmalade toast to finish it off. From land locked Dorchester the trip continued to the nearest beach town Weymouth. While most people lay at the beach a few dedicated ones congregated in the churches. I stopped by one to look at the Anglican architecture. After mass the priest walked up to introduce himself. Cake and tea was served to everybody on the way out. A kind offer but my stomach was full already. The lady playing the organ also shook everyone's hands. Crossing a drawbridge one can walk towards the old harbor and into the interesting part of town. I especially liked the are at and around the old breweries. The buildings and factories were built with small red brick stones giving them a special character. The brewery was turned into a small shopping mall and people sat out on the plaza in the sunshine to enjoy a good Sunday morning cup of tea.

From Weymouth I headed further south to the tip of the Portland Peninsula. On the way are a couple of castles. Upon closer inspection it turned out that one of them acts as a medium security prison now. How nice, living in a castle with an ocean view. Not bad for a life style. Some people have all the luck. But unlike them I could jump in my car and move on. I made many more stops on the east side of the long stretched peninsula. There is a hiking trail that loops all around the peninsula. I forgot the name of the village, but a couple of miles south of a WWII memorial I started hiking along the trail that follows the grayish to whitish cliffs. Soon I spotted a couple of nude bathers half a mile down at the water. There was no beach but the ocean looked very inviting. A jump into the water was definitely what I needed to cool down in this 90 degree weather. The trail to the water wasn't hard to find. Rock climbers in full gear from ropes to helmets used the cliffs for their entertainment. A few minutes later I had rid myself of the clothing and slipped into the cool wet. Ah-h, how relaxing after a hike in the heat.

Ruins of church hundreds of years old was worth another stop. The ruins were not far away from a sandy beach nestled in a small bay. It was too crowded and I had no desire to spend any time there. Eventually I made it to the tip of Portland easily identifiable by the classic red-and-white light house. Here I found the small cliffs that fell straight down into the ocean. And this is where this trip report started. The ocean was so clean and besides jumping off the cliffs twice I spent some time just swimming around.

Still having some energy left I went to see Corfe Castle. It is in ruins but beautiful. As impressive as the castle itself is the village around which blew my mind. It is incredibly idyllic with old houses with thatch roofs and wood frame construction. I felt set back in time. On the way I stopped by the Tank Museum near Wareham. Since I was already there I swung by. They got everything from small group transporters, little Sherman tanks, to gigantic monsters of steel. Quite a contrast to the thatched houses.

My final stop was at Swanage another beach town. A park on the south east is overlooking the beach area and most of the town. From there I enjoyed the scenery and finished a few more pages of my book until sunset indicated it's time to head back home to London. The traffic jam on the way back was the only low-light of the whole weekend. I spent hours in stop-and-go traffic since I was not the only one from London who had the glorious idea of spending the weekend on the beach. Nonetheless it was a great weekend during which I learned more about the English culture, their food, their beer, and above all their beaches. Why can't it be summer all year long?