Sunday, 6 September 2015

Day:142 16/7/95 Bournemouth to Christchurch

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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