Well, the weather was tolerable, thanks for asking. We had a great few days in Dorset and the weather co-operated in the sense that it didn’t rain (much).
Dorset is a county which Penny and I both like very much. It has fabulous coasts with magnificent walks and a gorgeous rolling countryside of patchwork fields. This trip was partly to celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary and also an opportunity to visit with some old friends. Daisy was very good and even found much to enjoy playing and romping with many new friends.
We had found a lovely little cottage in the charming metropolis of Langton Herring (pop. 240) between Weymouth and Abbotsbury. We had rented the one-bedroom Groom’s Cottage just adjacent to the old Manor House and it was very comfortable. Warm and cosy with an open fire in a small sitting room downstairs (just about enough room for Pen, me and Daisy to stretch out comfortably, bearing in mind that Daisy can certainly stretch out), a small but perfectly serviceable kitchen, a bathroom with a bedroom in the eaves. It did require a certain amount of gymnastics to get into bed each evening but as long as I stooped and hunched over I could just about wiggle into bed. The place comes advertised with WiFi which is true. As long as you stood in the front doorway with hopefully the wind blowing the signal across the courtyard from the owner’s cottage towards you. One bar if you’re lucky. It also came advertised with a shower which was a little bit disingenuous. There was a hand-held shower attachment in the bath which was fine as long as you were prepared to kneel in the bathtub and hose yourself down. Apart from those small inconveniences (and who needs WiFi on a secluded, romantic break anyway?) it was fine and very comfortable.
One of the things Langton Herring has to recommend it, apart from its tranquil setting, is The Elm Tree Inn, a 17th century pub which allegedly provides a very fine dining experience. Sadly, as it’s closed on Mondays and Tuesdays, we were unable to verify that claim.
It’s also the inn where Barnes Wallis stayed when the bouncing bomb was being tested on the Fleet just below the village. And, at the peak of the Cold War in the 1960s, the pub was at the centre of a Russian spy scandal. Harry Houghton and his girlfriend Ethel Gee used the Elm Tree to rendezvous with their KGB “controller” in what became known as the Portland Spy Ring. Houghton would come to the pub and await phone calls from his KGB masters on certain nights, before disappearing to spy on the nuclear submarine fleet based at Portland.
As we were unable to dine at the Elm Tree, we had to make do with two other perfectly acceptable and markedly cheaper alternatives, the King’s Arms in Portesham and the Crown Inn in Puncknowle (pronounced “punnel” apparently, presumably so that the locals can identify any “foreigners” who try to pronounce it “punk-knowle”).
As well as an anniversary celebration, we were combining the trip with a visit to a dear friend who celebrated her 80th birthday last week. They were visiting West Bexington (just down the road) with some of their family and had a magnificent house right on the beach. We’ve known Mary and Norman forever. Norman taught history at a neighbouring school when I was at Chipping Norton and we met up regularly as part of the local consortium of schools. Mary was in charge of midwifery at the Hornton Hospital in Banbury where both Ben and Adam were born. It was great to catch up and Daisy enjoyed romping with the three dogs they had in residence.
As well as visiting with Mary and Norman, we also spent a couple of very fine hours on Weymouth Beach on Tuesday and Wednesday mornings, in spite of the cold and misty weather. Weymouth Beach is magnificent and in the off-season dogs are allowed to run free along its entire length. Daisy thought she was in heaven. There were so many new pals to meet, sniff and romp with, so many that she could hardly keep up. As soon as she started playing with one there were half a dozen others who needed greeting. Some of the dogs, however, were obsessed with chasing and fetching but there were plenty who, just like Daisy, just wanted to run and play. There was one cute little dog which was uber-obsessed with his ball. His owner would throw the ball and he would belt across the sand to collect it. Instead of bringing it back, however, he proceeded to bury it under about 12 inches of sand. Then, he would sort of dance around it as if to say to his owner, “Ha, ha! You can’t find it now, can you?” Then, after a few moments of prancing, he would dive back and pounce on the site of the ball and start digging frantically to recover it only to then return it to his master and dance around his feet frenetically waiting to start the whole show over again. Highly amusing.
We also went down to Durdle Door along the coast from Weymouth. Surprisingly, although we’ve visited Dorset many times, we’ve never before been to Durdle Door and it’s a place I had wanted to see for some time. Durdle Door is one of Dorset’s most photographed and iconic landmarks. It is part of the Jurassic Coast World Heritage Site and is an extremely popular beauty spot. Thankfully, out of season, there were only a handful of others visiting the site – during the height of summer the place is packed!
The magnificent natural limestone arch was formed when the power of the waves eroded the rock and forged a hole through the middle. The name Durdle is derived from an old English word ‘thirl’, which means to pierce, bore or drill. Very impressive
And finally, another Golden Star this week for our Golden Girl for consistent hard work, especially in Maths.
Well done Jessie!
And speaking of Jessie, we went across yesterday morning to see her Christmas show as part of the drama and dance classes she attends on Saturday mornings. In an amalgam of pantomines she was dressed as Tinkerbell and delivered her lines with aplomb and professionalism. She also had the added distinction of knowing, more or less, where she was supposed to be at any given time and, with the aid of her magic wand, was able to direct the younger and/or less well organised actors to their appropriate positions. The whole show was a bit of a miracle – youngsters ranging in age from about 3 up to about 13 or so. Trying to organise that crowd must have been akin to herding cats. With apologies for the poor quality of the photograph – it was the least bad of those I took. (If you have trouble finding her, Jessie is at the right in the front).
Meanwhile, keep happy, keep smiling, be careful, wear a f**king facemask in crowded places and keep your distance. And keep safe. And be gentle to wasps and bees.
Lots of love to you all,
Greg