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A Day Out

A Day Out in Bournemouth

The smart resort of Bournemouth is a relatively modern place, unlike the historic ports of Poole and Christchurch either side. Bournemouth was created by the Victorians, much aided by the arrival of the railway, which gave the masses previously undreamed possibilities of travel.

Today, Bournemouth is the largest conurbation in Dorset, with some 163,000 residents, part of the seamless urban belt that runs from Upton in the west to Barton-on-Sea in the east, with a slight break at the River Avon. Until 1974, Bournemouth was part of Hampshire, with the boundary at County Gates, were Westbourne meets Poole. Becoming a unitary authority in 1997, it still stands much apart from Dorset – indeed – some die-hard traditionalists still won’t accept it’s not still in Hampshire!

Sea bathing had become fashionable in the times of King George III at the nearby resort of Weymouth, but Bournemouth – literally where the meandering river Bourne joins the sea – was very much a late developer. Two centuries ago it was a largely empty length of coastline, with sand dunes by the sea and heathland at the rear. Captain Lewis Tregonwell built a summer home in 1811, on open land now occupied by the Royal Exeter Hotel. The Tapps Arms Inn of 1809 was the only other building hereabouts.

Today Bournemouth is one of the best known resorts in England. The strength of Bournemouth has always been the beauty of its seafront and gardens. Early landowners planted lots of pine trees and their distinctive scent is everywhere. Some say it sends them to sleep! The course of the River Bourne from Meyrick Park down into the Upper Gardens, then into the Lower Gardens forms the valley on which the town is centred. Quite steep hills rise either side of the gardens, wide roads in which the ladies will spend hours in the many shops and boutiques. Lots of super restaurants, from classic English to ethnic, line the streets and interleave with the smart shops and arcades. The Borough Council claims the highest number of Rolls Royce owners live in Bournemouth, which they say has more pubs and clubs than Soho.

Let us begin – as all seaside tours should – at Bournemouth Pier. A jetty was built in 1856, but the present iron pier had its beginnings in 1880. Looking inland from the pier head – where boats still call on day excursions to the Isle of Wight and Swanage, the green spine along the twinkling stream is clearly seen. On the right rises the majestic Royal Bath Hotel on the Eastcliff, with the steel box of the Imax cinema placed in front of it, rather like Dr. Who has just left his tardis there! Students of planning should include this architectural abomination in their studies, how could the planners allow it? To the right of centre, seen from the pier head, is the gracefully ageing Pavilion, the 1929 centre of entertainment, including a theatre, ballroom, restaurant and a tea room. To the left, along the Westcliff, is another modern building – the Bournemouth International Centre – which blends in with the hillside. The venue for national political conferences and major exhibitions, it brings much trade to the area.

Out at sea, the bay begins at Durlston Head in the west and ends at Hengistbury Head in the east, famous for its Iron Age forts. Boscombe Pier survives to the east. You may see the ferries and the fast “Condor” catamarans bound for Cherbourg or Guernsey, emerging from the narrow entrance to Poole Harbour in the west, having crossed the chain ferry at Sandbanks.

Walking through Lower Gardens is a special delight in summer, when the riot of colour and scent are at their height. The rectangular bandstand still hosts band concerts. Lots of seats give space to sit and enjoy the peace. The tall buildings of Westover Road dominate the east view, including the Metro Palace Court Hotel – my tip for a fine meal in smart surroundings – but not cheap.

The Square is the meeting point of six roads, today partly pedestrianised, but I well remember the yellow trolleybuses of the 1950s and 1960s, which all converged on this point. Many major stores are at once visible, not least Beales department store in old Christchurch Road – a great Bournemouth institution, with its own restaurant on the top floor. Outside in the road is a clock, a gift from the people of Lucerne in Switzerland, with whom they are twinned.

Here the two faces of the town are most evident. “Shopping Bournemouth,” with its fine shops and restaurants, is really busy all year round. At the other end of the gardens, the beach and the Undercliff – the level walk alongside the beach – are thronged only in Summer. In the winter they are the haunt of hardy dog-walkers. Behind the shops, in quiet Hinton Road, is the church of St. Peter, blessed with a tower and a spire, built in the Gothic style so beloved of 1843. In the churchyard lays Mary Shelly, author of the Frankenstein stories and wife of the poet Percy Bysshe Shelley, whose heart is buried here. In an historic county where ancient buildings are almost too common, it comes as a surprise that nothing in central Bournemouth is more than 170 years-old.

Coming to the west side off the Square, note Debenhams massive store at the start of Avenue Road. On this site in the 18th century stood a hunting lodge, called Decoy House, where the Lord of the Manor enclosed a few acres. Then rough heathland, he would be astounded to see the developments which have been achieved today. As Avenue Road curves up the hill – almost everywhere you go in Bournemouth is a hill – there are yet more shops, national names and local businesses cheek by jowl.

By now you may be tired and in need of refreshment. At the top of Avenue Road is Poole Hill and by turning left into Commercial Road, then right into West Hill Road, you will certainly arrive at the civilised Goat and Tricycle. Once two pubs side-by-side, the Pembroke Arms side is still evident from the inside and outside. It’s certainly the best real ale pub in Bournemouth. There may be up to 11 real ales to sample – many from Wadworth who own this listed gem and the lunches are pretty good too.

At the end of West Cliff Promenade, return to sea level by the steep path or better still, use the 1908 cliff railway (open March to October,) which is much less taxing. A little further on are the chines, steep ravines populated by the inevitable pine trees. The first is Durley Chine, then Middle Chine, Alum Chine and then Branksome Dene Chine. The beach along here is quieter than around the Pier. Some smart eating places and cafes have sprung up along the sea wall by the chines. Some are incredibly expensive, so check the menu before you sit down!

You’re never far from the park, an antidote to the frenetic activity of the town centre. These days, Bournemouth includes suburbs like Winton, Wallisdown, Southbourne, Westbourne, Newtown and Pokesdown, making it a big sprawling settlement. They say there are 2,000 acres of parkland in Bournemouth and the temptation has been resisted to build over them – so far! Yet Bournemouth fits nicely in the modern age and still attracts many visitors, winter and summer.

Abbotsbury – The Abbey

All that remains of the Abbey

All that remains of the Abbey

Abbotsbury – The Abbey

English Heritage provide an artist's impression of how the Abbey looked before it was demolished. The highlighted area is all that remains.

English Heritage provide an artist's impression of how the Abbey looked before it was demolished. The highlighted area is all that remains.

Abbotsbury – The Church of St. Nicholas

The Church of St. Nicholas at Abbotsbury

The Church of St. Nicholas at Abbotsbury

Abbotsbury – The Swannery

Swan nesting with cygnet. Copyright: Loders Primary School

Swan nesting with cygnet. Copyright: Loders Primary School

Abbotsbury – The Swannery

Swan with young. Copyright: Loders Primary School

Swan with young. Copyright: Loders Primary School

Abbotsbury – The Swannery

Feeding Time at Abbotsbury. Copyright: Loders Primary School.

Feeding Time at Abbotsbury. Copyright: Loders Primary School.

Abbotsbury – The Swannery

Copyright: Loders Primary School

Copyright: Loders Primary School

Abbotsbury – A Perfect Day Out

Where better to start a day out at Abbotsbury than at the top of Abbotsbury Hill. From this vantage-point you can enjoy breath-taking views of the Dorset coastline, but to do so safely use one of the lay-bys provided. To the west you can see over Lyme Bay and it is said that on a fine day the view is clear to Start Point, off Plymouth. The view to the east is over The Fleet Lagoon with Chesil Beach stretching across the vista to the Island of Portland. In the foreground, sitting on a hill and from here easily mistaken as nothing more than a lookout point, is St. Catherine’s chapel. This is the first of many glimpses of the chapel you will enjoy during the day.

Before descending to the village cross over the road and take a walk around Abbotsbury Castle. This is an Iron Age hill-fort on the brow of Wears Hill on the edge of the hills to the north of Abbotsbury known as the Ridgeway. The hill-fort has double ramparts, which enclose an area of about 4 acres; the whole site covers about 10 acres. The fort is seven miles from Maiden Castle and five miles from the hillfort of Eggardon.

Down in the village you will find a choice of places offering food and drink. Tuck in and enjoy, forget the calorie count; there is still lots to see and places to visit, and any surplus energy you have you will need for the final climb of the day. In the village you are spoilt by a variety of shops offering all manner of interesting goods from the usual tourist bric-a-brac to some excellent work offered to you directly by local craftsmen and artists.

As you walk through the village feast your eyes on the cottages: many date back to the 16th century or earlier. Strict planning and conservation regulations ensure they remain much as they were.

The Church of St. Nicholas is well worth a visit. It is mainly 15th century, but was rebuilt in the 16th century and restored in 1885. There is a fine embattled tower with six bells. During the Civil War the church was defended for the King, and in the Jacobean pulpit there are two-bullet holes, evidence of the conflict.

 Standing in the porch is an effigy in Purbeck marble, (actually a grave slab from the earlier Abbey church) of a late 12th century abbot. The 15th century stained-glasswork is a notable feature of this church and the panes in the north and south aisle windows are noted for their subtlety of colour. Of special interest is the second window in the south aisle which shows the delicate face of a woman thought by some to represent St. Catherine, but is more likely to be the Virgin Mary from a Crucifixion window.

A few steps through the churchyard will bring you to the site where the Abbey of St. Peter stood. From here there is another view of St. Catherine’s Chapel. Of the Abbey little remains to be seen: only one wall and the entrance arch remain standing. Sir Giles Strangeways bought the Abbey, its lands and holdings in the 16th century just four years after he had been the commissioner appointed by Henry VIII to negotiate the surrender of the monastery. A caveat on the sale to Sir Giles dictated that the Abbey was to be demolished and there is no doubting that the condition was honoured. English Heritage has placed an information board here and it includes an artist’s impression of how the Abbey would have looked before it was destroyed. You may think the destruction a terrible sacrilege.

A couple of hundred yards away we can see the Abbey Barn and this will be of great interest to any children who may be accompanying their parents. Nowadays it is home to a menagerie of friendly farm animals and many of these, including the goats, can be stroked and fed at regular times thoughout the day; ideal for under 11’s. Toy tractor racing and pony rides are to be enjoyed. And there is more to keep the children occupied: inside the ‘Smugglers Barn’ there is an undercover play area including an interactive educational play area on two floors inside the reconstructed hulls of a smugglers lugger and revenue cutter from the 18th century.

The Abbey Barn dates from the 14th century and being 272 feet in length is one of the largest barns in England. The timber and thatched roof is much later.

Abbotsbury is most famous for its swannery: it is just down the lane from the Abbey Barn. These amazing creatures freely choose to be here and in no way are they confined to the place. Surprisingly they will allow you to wander amongst them and you can see them at close quarters, nesting and looking after their young. The swannery is home to as many as 1000 birds.

Established in 1393 by the Benedictine monks at the Abbey it is a largely artificial pond on the land side shore of The Fleet Lagoon. It is likely the swans were here before the monks, attracted by the eel-grass that grows in the waters of The Fleet.

Time now to visit the Sub Tropical Gardens. Twenty acres of woodland valley with exotic plants from all over the world and a nursery where you can buy plants and seeds. The first Countess of Ilchester established the gardens in 1765 as a kitchen garden to her nearby residence. In 1990 considerable damage was caused by a severe storm but since then the gardens have been restored and many new exotic and unusual plants have been introduced. There are formal and informal gardens with woodland walks and walled gardens. There is a bird aviary, children’s play area, and a colonial teahouse: here you can rest you feet for a few minutes before moving on to climb up to St. Catherine’s Chapel.

We started our day out at the top of a hill so it is appropriate to end it the same way. Throughout our stay at Abbotsbury we have been able to see St. Catherine’s Chapel from nearly every place we have visited: now it is time to take a closer look. The chapel is at the top of a grassy hill, some 250 feet above and 700 or so yards from the church; and quite a steep gradient to climb.

Built around the end of the 14th century the chapel’s survival intact after the actions of Henry VIII in 1538 possibly had something to do with it being a useful navigation marker for seafarers. From outside the thick walls and huge buttresses give the impression of a larger structure but internally the chapel is only 45’ x 15’. The chapel’s dedication is to the patron saint of spinsters and there is a notice inside, which says that once a year a spinster can pray to St. Catherine.

From the chapel you can look landward over the church, the Abbey Barn and the picturesque and historic village, seaward over The Fleet Lagoon; the Swannery, the Sub Tropical Gardens and Chesil beach where you could sit awhile in the warm early evening sun and watch the waves breaking against the shore and think “oh, what a perfect day.”

A Day Out at Lyme Regis

“Lyme doesn’t pretend to be anything other than what it is: a quiet seaside resort with a small fishing and pleasure boat harbour. The hilly countryside above it is like parts of the Cotswolds. In many ways the place hasn’t changed in 1,200 years.”

The speaker grew up in Lyme Regis, which is nearly in Devon, and often does a three hours drive to get there for a week in a hotel. He reminded me that ships sailed to meet the Spanish Armada from Lyme, where a stone rampart sticks far out to sea at the Cobb.

So I had to see Lyme Regis.

Starting from the church, I walked down the hill and found myself outside the Pilot Boat Inn, where once the landlord’s dog gained fame by licking the face of an apparently drowned sailor and brought him back to life. The sailor was from the torpedoed battleship “Formidable,” which went down in the bay in 1915. It is a friendly place, but the bartender I spoke to knew nothing about the dog or the battleship, although the walls were lined with pictures of ships and even the tablemats have a nautical theme.

Outside again, among painted houses and too much traffic for comfort, I could tell where the beach was from the smell of the salt-laden air. So I strode out across the sand and shingle for the Cobb, to the west, the tiny port with a forest of masts and stout walls of Portland stone.

It is too shallow for larger shipping, but once it saw a trader loose her ropes and set sail for nearby Charmouth, anchoring in the bay to await King Charles II who was fleeing to France. The next part of the story may have originated in a local bar-room, but it is said the skipper’s wife, fearful of revenge by the Roundheads (for sympathies were with them here) locked him in his cabin so that he could not get to either anchor or wheel.

On the way to the Cobb I passed a few gay awnings, rows of electric bulbs, the odd hot-dog and ice-cream stalls, but nothing more ostentatious that that. Fifteen castles, mermaids and other marvellous creations from sand awaited the competition judges and people gingerly picked their way around them to admire.

Hereabouts are cannons pointing out to sea and a 10-foot anchor given by the former Portland Navy Base “in memory of Lyme Regis men and women who made their living from the sea.”

People were fishing off the sea wall for “flatties” and two boys from Seaton and Axminster emerged from the falling tide in wetsuits, intending to do some snorkelling on a full tide. And all the time a sea mist hung over the town above the beach – an indication, I was told, that Lyme was in for a hot period. “It always happens,” said the ice-cream lady. And so it was to prove.

Beyond the Cobb is a beach where the Duke of Monmouth came ashore with his men in 1685 to lead a revolt against King James on religious grounds, only to be defeated at the Battle of Sedgmoor in Somerset. A dozen of those men from Lyme who joined him were hanged where the inhabitants of the town could see their bodies. Very ugly. Worth comparing with violent times today.

The Old Watch House looks out over Lyme Bay – and now the mist lifted, revealing dramatically high cliffs along the coast to the east. Upper and lower promenades lead back to the town centre three quarters of a mile away. Once there, a little way back up the hill is the parish church of St.Michael the Archangel, with its centuries-old-Flemish-woven tapestry and its three-foot model of a lifeboat with sails and oars, circa 1925.

Only 20 yards beyond the east wall are the Church Cliffs, where the sea has eroded the land over the centuries. The cliffs have to be stabilised from time to time: the church itself goes back to Saxon times, when the building must have been far from the sea. The view on a fine day stretches from the Cobb to Golden Cap Cliff, and the Isle of Portland, a lady in the churchyard told me.

In the museum at the bottom of the hill I learned of the town’s decline as a port in the 19th and 20th centuries, after 600 years, as ships became larger. Yet even today it has a boat building yard. Passing through the town names like Marine Parade are seen, continuing the maritime theme.

Back on the beach I went for my second ice-cream, while people changed in tiny plastic beach tents to go into the sea, most only paddling. I saw no more than 30 people paddling and swimming at once along the whole beach. Then the sun came out again.

As it happened, it was Lifeboat Week, and parachute, helicopter, lifeboat and coastguard displays had been set out, with some spectacular flying by the RAF Red Arrows and even a tug o’war between coastguards and life boatmen. A smugglers tour, fireworks at sea, illuminated boats and a Yetties concert were designed to keep up the interest. The stage sound system belted out the decibels, and Lyme let its hair down.

“The Pearl of Dorset,” they call Lyme Regis. It hasn’t been commercialised as larger resorts have, yet it is not under-developed as a coast attraction like the neighbouring seaside place of Bridport’s West Bay is. Lyme was on a major Roman road, was a besieged Roundhead fortress, and 50 years ago was described as “a quaint old-world place nestling at the foot of the hills.” I don’t think my friend from the Cotswolds would disagree with a word of that.

Here we are on the Jurassic Coast, with outstanding geology attracting people with hammers: world famous fossil-hunting country and the South West Coast Path. Here is a fully restored working water-mill, and Gun Cliff, where artillery once sent away a raiding ship with a single shot.

Besieged in 1644, it is peaceful today with galleries, cafes, craft and antiques shops. Yes, the “Pearl of Dorset,” everyone seems to agree.