Saturday sees Jack and I packing the car with the crazy
amount of camping equipment just about fitting it all in with the duvet taking
up the last available space in the boot. An easy drive down the M4 / M5 then a
pleasant drive down the Somerset coast road past Minehead and across Exmoor to
Morte Hoe and the best campsite in the world. Most likely. We fire up the BBQ
quickly converting into a raging fire and settle back to watch the sun set
directly over the Bristol Channel. Perfect start to the holiday. From where
we’re camped we can see across to Lundy Island and the Welsh coast taking in
the lights of what must be Tenby and east to the Gower and Swansea. Sunday is
local Rockham beach day and the usual night time fire to keep us warm. Monday family
peace is broken by our fellow campers as mate Bruce and brother Duncan and his
clan arrive and we hit the local beach again for what turns out to be a hot
day. The rest of the week has days on Rockham or Woolacombe beach and nights
with barbeque fire and chats. Exercise regime is steep walks to and from the
beach and shower block, body boarding, beach volleyball, cricket and football.
The weather is pretty good with some really hot days and mainly dry except at
night which doesn’t really matter when camping and is enjoyable hearing the
rain hit the canvas, or nylon. Wednesday is pretty murky and we spend all day
trying to see the horizon through the mist and light rain. It’s a surprisingly
relaxing way to spend the day tracking visibility in the mist, I can see the
blue tent that disappeared, whilst sampling the local scrumpy until sundown and
our warming fire. Thursday we splash out and treat ourselves to a meal out to
celebrate Maria’s birthday. Friday is our last day together and after a cycle ride
to the Bull Point lighthouse then down to Woolacombe I manage the steep hill
back to Morte Hoe without getting out of the saddle. And in flip flops. I did
hit my lowest gear though. Then firing up the suitcase BBQ for the last time
this holiday with a few songs courtesy of Bruce on guitar and the girls before
reluctantly turning in as the last embers burn themselves out for our last
night camping.
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| Off to local Rockham Beach |
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| Rockham Beach |
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| Lundy from Rockham |
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| Cool Campers |
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| View from the terrace |
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| Braving the atlantic |
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| Rockham |
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| Sun sinking |
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| Doritos or tabs - which is the cooler accessory to sunnies? |
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| Looks like rain but the girls don't care |
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| The legendary and world famous Scott May Daredevil Stunt Show! |
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Bull Point with Megan helpfully pointing out where the sea is to Maya...
...who's doing her best to slide into it from a great height |
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| Woolacombe Beach |
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| Jack in full flight with the veterans team quaking in their flip flops |
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| The Woods of Croi on the last night with trusty suitcase bbq raging illegal firepit |
Saturday we pack up all three tents in the dry which is a
real bonus and say our farewells to Bruce, Duncan, Maria, Rebekah, Sinead and
Megan. We then have a wet drive over Exmoor to the south Dorset coast and our
home for the week which is a beautiful white thatched cottage in Chideock a few
miles from Lyme Regis. And having left Exmoor the sky has brightened up too.
Sunday we walk the twenty minutes to our local beach at Seatown which is
shingle and pebbles along this coast rather than the sand in north Devon.
Evening we head to West Bay for the culmination of Bridport Carnival where
we’re treated to a local band named Freak Circus with leather trousered singer
doing mainly covers punk & rock ending with Blitzgrieg Bop & Ace of
Spades. During which the torchlight procession of a couple of thousand arrives
to add to the already impressive bonfire as a prelude to some pretty impressive
fireworks whilst sat on the beach. Monday is spent looking around Lyme Regis
and The Cob before another swim at Seatown and an evening BBQ.Next day we drive
east to Durdle Door with it’s beautiful blue waters reminiscent of the med or
Caribbean and we go swimming Jack, Maya and me through the door and back. Then
we hit Weymouth childhood home of my mother's mother as a which seems even more commercialised than I remember it but a
lovely harbour and then out to Portland to catch gorgeous views along Chesil Beach.
On the way back home I detour to Hardy’s Monument which I expect to be in
honour of the writer of Wessex novels and after banging on about him to the
kids am a bit embarrassed when it turns out to be in honour of Nelson’s right
hand man who he spoke his last famous words to Kiss me Hardy.
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| Seatown Beach near the cottage at Chideock |
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| The English Channel |
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| Lyme Regis Cobb |
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| What a lovely scene... |
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| West Bay carnival bonfire and torch procession wickerman style |
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| Durdle Door |
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| Weymouth Harbour |
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| Chesil Beach from Portland - English Channel to the right Weymouth to the left |
Wednesday sees the girls head back into Lyme Regis and Jack
and I venture off for what turns out to be an extremely hilly cycle ride
designated the Hill Forts Ride which is 20 miles taking in Whitchurch
Canonicorum which is unique in England
in having it’s patron saint, St Wite, medieval remains intact in the church.
The to the ancient hill forts that helped to Dorset folk fend off the Devon
tribes until the Romans walked straight through the land. Will climb to Lambert’s
Castle Hill then further up through Marshwood & Birdsmoorgate to the
highest point of Dorset Pilsdon Pen and it’s 2,000 year old hill fort where we
stop for lunch. Then mainly downhill but with a couple of steep climbs to keep
us on our toes through Shaves Cross disappointingly with the pub shut for lunch
harking back to old school licencing hours then back home for a quick dip in
the sea at Seatown and a well deserved pint in the pub overlooking the beach. For the route see here...
With
the girls back we have our last BBQ perhaps of the summer before Jack and I
struggle up the stairs to bed. Well I struggled anyway. Our last full day away
sees us wake to another wonderful day that turns out to be a scorcher and we
take it easy wandering down to the local beach in the afternoon where the girls
and I swim in the surprisingly choppy sea and get tossed around on the shingle
banks whilst trying to get out of the water. The heat of the beach is too much
for me and I trek home for the sanctuary of grass instead of shingle and read
whilst sipping a bottle of local bitter. We eat our last holiday supper on the
decking outside soaking up the last of the sun’s rays. The journey back to London is uneventful if long timewise due to congestion in the Bournemouth area which never made the traffic news. Looks like we got back just in time before the weather breaks in the west and reports of rain from my parents when I call to let them know the great exam results of Jack and Maya. All in all a very relaxing time and feel thoroughly chilled out.
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| Pilsdon Pen iron age fort |
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| Traffic jam Dorset style |
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| Single track roads |
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| Where we've been |
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| Enjoying the view from the cottage |
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| The thatched cottage |
