Sometimes facebook is good - memories

It brought up a few memories of holidays. We have been away in June several times  over the past few years.

2 years ago we were in an Italian restaurant on a balmy evening in Warsaw.

5 years ago we stayed at the Old Bakehouse, not far from Bridport in Dorset. We had some great bike rides from there.

In 2013 we had a great week in Paris, including the rainy day at Versailles, a day with Anne, and a Chopin concert in the Jardin du Luxembourg.

Dorset Knob Throwing and Nettle Eating

Two peculiar customs we heard of during or shortly after our recent stay in Dorset. Neither are exactly ancient in origin . . .

The Bottle Inn in Marshwood is where they hold the Nettle Eating Championships in early June. This year we missed it by a couple of weeks! Just as well, we might have been tempted to take part - though I think not.

The contest started with a pub argument between two farmers in the late 1980s.

"My stinging nettles are longer than yours."

"Oh no they're not"

"Oh yes they are."

"I'll eat yours if they're longer than mine."

"Right you are. We'll measure them."

And the rest is history.  The contest lasts for an hour, and competitors are presented with 2-foot long stalks of stining nettles.  They have to pluck the leaves from the stalks and eat them. No one is allowed to leave the contest. No bathroom breaks or they're disqualified. After an hour the bare stalks are counted and the winner is the one with the greatest length of stalk. 

It's all done with a charity beer festival, along with plenty of live music.

The other tradition started even more recently, in 2008. The village of Cattistock, between Dorchester and Yeovil, needed to raise money for local sporting facilities, and came up with the idea.

A Dorset knob is a spherical biscuit, actually a small roll of bread dough baked three times, rather dry and crunchy, something like a rusk or French biscotte.  It shape lends itself to throwing.  The biscuit itself was first produced in about 1880, by accident, by the Moores family, whose bakery business began at Stoke Mill Bakehouse (now a lovely holiday cottage near Bridport).  The bakery business is still run from a shop in Morcombelake. 

Last May the contest and an associated food festival attracted around 5 000 people.

Bridport West Bay - a dip in the sea.

19 June 2014.

We'd spent a short time in West Bay before the walk to Golden Cap. The water looked tempting, but we hadn't brought our swimming gear. Memories of a cycle ride to Cromer from a few miles inland some years ago told us that swimming in cycling shorts and then wearing them to ride isn't the greatest of plans and probably much the same is true of walking clothes. 

The next day we packed swimsuits and towels, and decided to ride to West Bay, maybe swim a bit, sketch a bit, nip into Bridport to look for a present for a four-year-old, and generally chill out.

The first swim had to be faced before coffee, and though the water was not as balmy as Cromer had been it was less cold than some we've known.  The air was warm as well so no shivering fits on emerging! And we have photos to prove it.

Coffee at the beach café - much classier than Charmouth's. And a sight of a Harris hawk which deters the gulls. They were making one hell of a racket at the sight of the hawk, though its handler claimed it wouldn't predate anything as large as a gull.

We cycled into the town, a lively place, and managed to find presents and a card, and arrange to pick them up by car later.

A picnic lunch and an hour or so sketching near the harbour, a ride along the seafront, and another dip brought us to five o'clock, so we decided to buy fish and chips, from one of the stalls  rather than make the effort to cook dinner after a fairly active day.

We bought Dorset Apple Cake again and took it home unsquashed!

Most photos by Harry.

Swanage and Durlston - June 16 2014

The road from Bridport to Dorchester has fine views of the coast, and the rolling hills. Between Wareham and Swanage you pass Corfe Castle, with its unbelievable setting. I don't think I've ever seen castle ruins looking so castle-like.

Swanage itself has the familiar air of English seaside towns - a cool breeze, people paddling with shorts on or skirts lifted delicately over the knee,  apart from the odd brave person in a swimsuit. Then we have ice-cream stalls, cafés and of course the dreaded amusement arcades.

Vivid memories - the blissful expression on Hazel's face as she went round in the teapots, and Joseph's was nearly as good.

Others: Joseph's mega meltdown when he couldn't keep losing more money on the twopence machines, and the feel of seawater and sand between my toes. Seems all the boy wanted was the lollipop he didn't win. . .

I went to buy goodies for lunch, bread from a bakery, the rest from Budgens supermarket.

Then it was back to the cars, and we decided to visit Durlston Castle Country Park. Easy peasy, the signs are there until we reach the town centre, when suddenly the powers that be expect you to know the way. We do a quick extra circuit of the town centre, then make a false turn before choosing the correct route. After a mile or so, there's another sign. Brilliant labelling, Swanage!

We're hungry now, so we eat, then make our way to the castle - built between 1887 and 1891 by George Burt, owner of Durlston Estate. He hoped to develop the estate as a spa, and he was one of those enterprising Victorians with a fascination for science and learning, as a walk round soon shows.

Picture by HH

Joseph's fascination with stairs distracts us from our original objective of the coffee shop, and leads us through an exhibition of original artwork by local artist Joe Colquhoun for the comic strip, Charley's war, and out to the Great Globe, a 4 ton Portland Stone construction with a sea view. Plenty of opportunities for him to use his new mini binoculars to peruse the boats on the sea, and a helicopter which flies over. And lots of scrambling up and down on steep grass.

by HH

The Great Globe (HH)

The Southwest Coast Path runs through the Estate, and we follow it past a tree which demands to be climbed, and then Tilly Whim Caves - too dangerous for humans now because of rockfalls, but all the better for bats and birds.

(HH)

Joseph is very keen to run on towards the lighthouse.  I go with him and Harry Esther and Hazel follow with the pushchair.  The wall stops and we have a rougher track down and up. Hand holding is enforced.The Lighthouse is now holiday cottages.  

(HH)

(HH)

Alas, you can't visit the light, the old one is wrapped and out of use - they use LEDs now. No we can't get in - not even to meet Sky High and Huggy*, whoever they are. (Even though they texted us to say we should meet them there - a grandmotherly ploy to keep us moving). We'll have to rearrange the meeting with them at the car park.

On the way back we find ourselves falling behind the others - no tempting objective in view, but distractions all the way. 'I'm just building a nest for my binoculars.'   'That's a Joseph path' - one I've marked out as safe for a hands free few yards.  'I need to climb the tree.'  I parcel out two or three minute permissions until it's close enough to tempt him with the café. But the others - no, not Sky High and Huggy - send a text that they're in the car park. A carton of juice and a piggyback later, we rejoin them.

*Fly high and huggy from a Cbeebies game!

I should have a few more photos to add. Taken by Harry.