Onto The Southwest Coast Path - England

Friday, August 12

Today was a kind of a strange day. It started off with a plate full of baked beans on whole grain rye bread and a stack of fried eggs cooked up by Jerome as a going away feast. The feast was cut short when Jerome found out he had a Dr’s appointment in 10 minutes. After breakfast I headed to the train station.

It took three hours and three trains to get to Bournemouth. The last ride included an out of control 3 year old Russian boy doing as he pleased with an old newspaper while loudly vocalizing his enthusiasm. When I got off the train in Bournemouth I hopped double decker bus number fifty for a one hour ride to a ferry that I was sure was only 5 miles away? Along the circuitous everyone we picked up was well into their years. I felt like I was on a senior citizen bus tour or something.

At Sandbanks I got off the bus and took a short ferry ride to South Haven point. The start of the 630 mile South West Coast Path. After a couple of photos I trudged across a sandy tourist beach under windy and cool partly cloudy skies. With a large backpack over my shoulder I was completely comfortable in long pants and long sleeve shirt. Everyone else was quite happy in beach wear and swimsuits. I quickly left the tourist beach and rounded a corner to the naturist/nudist beach with naked people who really shouldn’t be naked. Believe me, I could have passed on this section. From there it was on to another tourist beach then up over a ridge to the somewhat nice seaside village of Swanage teeming with, yes, more tourists.

After grabbing a big piece of cod with chips I climbed out of Swanage to what the coast path is really all about, beautiful sea cliffs and rolling terrain. The walking began to get good as I followed the trail with open green hills rising to my right and the ocean below cliffs dropping off to my left.

I hiked on further until the sun began to hang low and chose a nice campsite in an abandoned quarry right next to the ocean. I was sure I’d have the place to myself until just about dark when three burly somewhat attractive women showed up with big packs. They’re here to climb upon the miles of routes that line the sea cliffs here. I think they are of an alternative lifestyle if you know what I mean.

So it’s my first day on the South West Coast Path. I plan to walk a hundred miles of it. If I like it I may go further. I’ll just see how it feels..

Saturday August 13

It was rainy and blustery all night but in the morning it cleared. I had a nice intermittently partly sunny view from my tent as I packed up camp and began a full day of fine hiking along hills overlooking sea cliffs. I paused for awhile at a chapel that's estimated to be around 800 to 900 years old and measures 7.77 meters square. It reminded me of my walks on the Camino through France and Spain which brought on mixed feelings of nostalgia and loneliness.

The clouds returned by late morning as I tackled short yet steep climbs with a pack that’s a little too heavy. The gray overcast day added to already mixed feelings of melancholy. Up and down until I arrived at the quaint yet tourist packed idealic fishing village of Lulworth where I dined on fish and chips with the pint before filling water bottles and moving on to find a campsite reasonably sheltered from the wind.

Saturday, August 14

I awoke to a gloriously blue sky and got off to a good start. The Southwest Coast path is an interesting mix of wild unspoiled green hills spilling off cliffs guarding the English Channel with beaches along the way, however, in between these sections are villages, resorts, and some larger towns. In August you can expect any and all of these places to be packed. A few miles of blissful walking is sometimes followed by passing through heaps of tourists rushing to an ice cream stand for a Mr. Whippy and a cup of tea.

Today I passed through Weymouth. It’s a beach community known for its splendid 18th century beach front architecture and a magnet for vacation seekers. I felt like an alien with a backpack as I weaved in an out of the carnival rides while dodging people looking everywhere except where they were going.

From Weymouth I proceeded across a long strip of causeway to the Island of Portland. The path then took me through and alley way that seemed kind of odd until I arrived at a splendid pub atop a seawall. What I found there were two fine pints and a heaping plate of lamb with assorted potatoes and veggies. Two of my favorite English traditions, Real Ale and a Sunday Roast.

As I stared across the ocean enjoying my food and drink I began to feel like my old self again and was reminded of why I enjoy walking in England so much. In retrospect I’ve been a little out of sorts for the past 4 weeks but the fine drink, hearty food, and friendly English speaking English is just what I need right now.

After a very nice stop at the Pub I continued forward on a loop around Portland Island. I stopped at another Pub, at the tip of Portland known as the Bill, for another quick pint and a chat with the friendly staff before watching Sailboats round the tricky wind and currents of the Bill. With the day getting late I walked just a little further where I chose an splendid campsite overlooking a cliff near a quarry under a clear sky and full moon rising.