Weather: Sunny .
Distance: 16 km (
miles) Total Distance: miles
This was a family holiday in the New Forest. We traveled down from Coventry on Saturday morning - not making too much of an early start because we
were not supposed to arrive before three o'clock and it was a relatively short
journey. We had planned to stop at a National Trust garden for lunch, but
missed the turning and ended up in the village of West Isley finding a great
village pub called the Harrow. It overlooked the village cricket ground, specialized in home-made pies and had a play ground to boot. We had a light
lunch there but bought a lamb and apricot pie to have for tea.
It took a half hour too get through the bottle-neck of
Newbury but we arrived in relatively good time at Forest Lodge on the outskirts
of Brockenhurst. This was a large old house where we had the downstairs and use
of the large garden and the owners had the upstairs. It was a very good flat
with modern kitchen, slightly fussy owners but friendly, almost as if they had
stepped out of a BBC sit-com. The garden
had stables at the bottom who were rented to a man from Aberdare - half Welsh
and half Italian.
I took the first train from Brockenhurst to Bournemouth
on Sunday at 8 o'clock - the station master looked surprised to see anyone
catch a train at that time. Bournemouth was half asleep - occasional people
taking walks after or before breakfast. Once down on the prom there were a few
more people around, many exercising. The proms were also packed with council
vehicles cleaning and checking the beach huts. So much does Bournemouth pride
itself on its front that there are close circuit TV on the beach huts.
I had to concentrate on the sea because otherwise I
found myself looking at the prom rather than the sea. The prom eventually
merged out and I took to the sand/pebbles. Hengistbury Head was interesting -
the first part was had some south facing cliffs very interesting a mix of soft
and hard rock meaning that water flowed down through the sandstone and out over
the hard stone. Around the corner was a long long row of beach huts - seemingly
the sort that were large enough to live in. This went all the way to the narrow
outlet of Christchurch harbour.
Back on the inland side more beach-huts and then a
roadway west through woodland, wetland and dunes. I asked the way at one stage
and had a host of people helping me find the closest way to the sea (or harbour
in this case!). The Christchurch suburb
Wick was affluent, the North side of the river had a Pontins holiday camp.
Before crossing the river I treaed myself to a tea and cake at the cafe. Around a harbour and marina and priory took
me into Christchurch.
A pleasant walk with enough contrasts to make it
interesting. I bought a loaf of bread in the shape of a crab for Sean, before
making my way up to the Tourist Information Centre to wait for Margaret. They were a bit late - Margaret had scraped
the side of the car on the iron staircase in the outside the flat - no real long lasting
damage.
We went to Avon beach in he afternoon when we eventually
found it. We had to come off after we
decided Gareth had eaten enough sand. We
had an ice-cream then listed to the British grand prix where Hill had knocked
him and Schoemacer off the track.
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