Going Solo

Wednesday 25th & Thursday 26th June 2014

Lake District

Claire had to do 3 days work in the Lake District this week, so I thought I'd tag along and go up a couple of hills while she was working. The only trouble was that she wasn't coming home until Friday evening, whilst I have to be in work Friday lunchtime, so I was faced with a dilemma. No, not do I have a sickie, but do I go in George the gas guzzler or on my fast but far more economical motorbike that I've only done 400 miles on in the last 2 years and can barely remember how to ride. As it would work out about £40 cheaper, I went on the bike, and have now remembered how to ride it and why I got a motorbike in the first place.

I arrived in Ambleside on Thursday at around 11am, got my stuff out of Claire's car and set off for a easy stroll up Loughrigg Fell which apparently was favoured by Wordsworth (the daffodil poet). I took a detour into town on the way in search of a magnetic clippy thing to hold my drinking tube to the strap of my new eBay bargain rucksack. This was far more difficult than I expected, no doubt partly down to the staff in the shops being unsure exactly what a clippy thing was. Anyway, 4 shops later and I was on my way again with my drinking tube secure yet close at hand.

For a small hill, Loughrigg seemed to have a lot of uphill, and I was pouring with sweat by the time I got up there. You tend to find that with small hills, I suppose it's psychological because you expect them to be really easy. There was a family containing two rather loud and bossy children hogging the summit when I arrived (shouldn't they have been in school?!) so I found a spot out of their way to eat my picnic. The day was quite grey and hazy but it was warm enough to sit and enjoy a leisurely lunch with only one extra layer on, admiring the views.

The summit hoggers eventually left after about half an hour and I spied my chance to do my obligatory standing on top of the trig point looking cool. But just as I was climbing on, a couple who I'd passed on the way up arrived so it wasn't quite the triumphant moment of solitude that it could have been. However, my trig point gymnastics prompted them to not only take a photo of me up there (on their own camera - weird), but also to insist on climbing up themselves and asking me to take photos of them. I wish I'd videoed it instead because it was quite entertaining, although I could have done without the glimpses of the lady's orange knickers.

I ended up walking down with them as we were going the same way. They were visiting from Israel and had only recently started fell walking, which was obvious from the lady's white Reebok Classic trainers (which also happen to be the number one choice of shoe for burglars) and denim skirt (less popular with burglars, probably because they show your knickers when climbing up things). They interrogated me about my work for a bit, offered me a job working for Mossad in Israel (I politely declined, saying I'd rather stay in the relative safety of Staffordshire than be an Israeli spy thank you very much). Then we settled into the relative normality of chatting about the Lake District, although this proved difficult because they didn't seem to have heard of anywhere in the Lakes except Buttermere. I eventually decided it was time to part company when I had to explain what Blencathra was.

We'd come down the side of Loughrigg which overlooks Grasmere and Rydal Water, so I had an easy stroll back along Loughrigg Terrace (Wordsworth's favourite place to take his wife to do romantic things - ooer!), alongside Rydal Water and through the grounds of Rydal Hall which apparently is the Christian centre at the heart of the Lakes.

I arrived back in Ambleside much more tired than I should have been, met up with Claire, and then headed over to Keswick where we were spending the night. When I'd finally got my bike stable on the gravel drive we got changed and went down to Derwent Water for a quick pre-dinner paddle in our kayaks which we'd brought with us (on the roof rack of course).
The water was really low and we almost got stuck on the bottom at one point. I think we normally come to Keswick when there are floods. We had a nice if slightly rushed paddle round (believe it or not, Claire was hungrier than me and keen to get back for dinner!) and headed back for pizza in our favourite pizza place in town

On Friday morning we had a cooked breakfast, and I ate a heroic amount of toast. I'd had to pay a £10 surcharge to make Claire's room double occupancy you see, and because of that felt obliged to eat as much breakfast as possible. Claire headed off to work after breakfast whilst I, now in possession of the wifi code, killed a couple of hours in our room before setting off for my walk. The weather forecast was better for the afternoon so I didn't want to set out too early.

I set off from a little village called Scales at about 11.30am to go up Blencathra. Blencathra is a mountain overlooking Keswick and is home to 22 different routes up (or down) according to Wainwright. I'd decided to go up via Sharp Edge (one of the Lake District's two main ridge scrambles), have a nice picnic at the top whilst admiring the views and taking photos, and then come down via Halls Fell, a route recommended in numerous guide books, magazines, and also by a girl working in one of the shops that didn't sell clippy things.

The way up was, in contrast to yesterday's much smaller hill, much easier than I expected. I've been up via Sharp Edge before when I was a teenager, but all I could really remember about it was Anna's walking boot sole falling off half way up, and mum feigning vertigo so some hunky mountaineers would help her up.

The walk up to the start of Sharp Edge was pretty easy despite it being quite steep, and then the actual scramble up Sharp Edge was far less challenging than I expected. I was rather smug to overtake a group of young men wearing helmet cams who were going very slowly (probably because the were shaking from head to toe).

I arrived on the summit plateau to be greeted by a cloud lingering there, but found myself a spot to sit down and wait for the cloud to clear like the forecast said it would. However, after half an hour of shivering, a flask of coffee, and my packed lunch, I decided I'd given the cloud enough time and set off down Halls Fell without having had my summit view as planned.

Going down was, to my surprise, much harder than going up. I don't know why this came as a surprise to me as that is the case with most mountains for me. But this one was particularly tricky as what would have been an easy and fun uphill scramble was a nightmare going down, especially as the rocks were coated with slippery moss in places.

I almost fell off the edge by tripping over my own walking pole, and then, thoroughly shaken up by that, slipped on some of the slippery moss and broke my fall with my hand before crashing down in a very unladylike manner on my bum. Fortunately I don't think anyone saw. I spent a few minutes feeling sorry for myself and examining my hand on a nearby rock, before continuing much more carefully and without using my left hand because it was hurting and dripping blood. I made it down without any further issues, despite it being constantly on my mind that "these things happen in threes". Much to my annoyance, the cloud lifted on my way down but I didn't fancy going back up again.

It is actually the second time I've tripped over my own walking pole on a mountain before subsequently slipping over again in my shaken up disorientated state (see "Wet pants and messy hair" - 19th October 2013. These blogs are handy for reliving previous accidents). I'm beginning to question the usefulness of the poles. They're supposed to help my knees, but I think they're probably counter effective, and could have easily caused a knee injury today if I hadn't landed on another body part instead. I think I might replace them in my hiking inventory with a first aid kit and an extra cake.

After a trip into Keswick for more food and some plasters I went back to the B&B, packed my bag, ate my chicken fajita wrap, and awaited Claire's arrival for some sympathy before I left. When I'd had my fill of sympathy (I'm still unsure whether the suggestion that it might be broken was genuine or sarcastic), I got back on my bike to see if I could still work the clutch. Fortunately I could, and I'm now back home in bed with a slightly purple hand and my penguin hot water bottle (in June!).

For any concerned readers (i.e. Mum), I am certain there are no broken bones, but will go straight to A&E if I change my mind, and the bits about almost falling off and dripping blood were exaggerated a tiny bit. I mean, it only takes a couple of drips to count as dripping doesn't it?

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Last day

Saturday 14th June 2014

George's World Tour South of Stoke - Day 14

I had the best nights sleep of the holiday last night, despite the boy racers who turned up on the opposite side of the car park. They were the sitting in cars comparing engines and seeing whose car is lowered the most type of boy racers rather than the racing type (not that the car park would be big enough for racing anything except maybe tortoises or hamsters) so they didn't really cause us any problems.

We had a leisurely breakfast and then rather grumpily started our journey north. We're stopping at a site a few miles out of Weston Super Mare tonight. We spent the afternoon sitting in the sun drinking wine and washing about 6 layers of sunscreen off before having our last evening meal in George and heading for the site bar. Which wasn't open for another hour and a half when we arrived. We're now in a pub about a mile away, hoping that it's not going to fill with football fans too early in advance of the England match at 11pm.

I feel like we've had a bit of a lazy holiday, but looking back we've been quite busy really. 2 days canoeing, pony trekking, a dawn photography expedition and 2 days sea kayaking, plus some touristy sightseeing and beach going.

We've seen loads of wildlife that we don't normally see on our regular excursions - kingfishers, marsh harriers, grass snakes (swimming!), two different types of woodpecker, seals and a peregrine falcon. The seals were the highlight though.

We will be keeping an eye on eBay for bargain sea kayaks and stand up paddle boards over the coming months.

I'm going to sign off for the trip now, as the barman has just asked us if we're emailing each other, and Claire has nearly finished her pork scratchings so will no doubt be getting bored.

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A trip to Blackpool

Friday 13th June 2014

George's World Tour South of Stoke - Day 13

Once again I was woken today by traffic and sun. I managed to sleep in a bit longer though and got up at about 7am. After breakfast we had a mooch round Dartmouth and had a cream tea which was much more satisfactory than the previous one, maybe 8 out of 10 (the jam was ok but not excellent, and there was not quite enough of it). We bought some lunch and then headed off to spend the rest of the day on the beach.

The beach we'd decided to head for is called Blackpool Sands and is just a few miles along the coast from Dartmouth. It looks like a sandy beach from afar but is actually small shingle (not that we were bothered about that until we tried to walk on it with no shoes on). We settled down with our Kindles, had our crab and cucumber sandwiches and quiche, and then hired out some stand up paddle boards from the beach shop.

I hadn't really packed for a beach holiday (don't know why, as we had planned to come to the beach), so had to improvise by wearing my running shorts (that have not been run in during the holiday at all), and a colourful sports bra that I tried to convince myself did not look at all like a sports bra and in fact was obviously a sporty bikini top.

The sea was as calm as a millpond and there was no wind, and the man in the hire shop said we should be fine with them so long as we've got some sense of balance. By the time we got down to the sea with them my feet were killing me as I'd decided to leave my beach shoes in George so I didn't get tan lines on my ankles. We started off kneeling on the boards, and after 5 or 10 minutes I progressed to crouching and then finally standing (which was easier than crouching). I was rather smug to find that Claire was still at the kneeling stage at this point, although she got quite grumpy at my smugness and that we'd finally found a paddle sport that I'm better at than she is.

We had the boards for an hour and I did manage to coax Claire to her feet for the last half hour. The boards are much more stable than I expected although it is quite hard work on your legs keeping balanced. My legs felt like they were permanently tensed up and a bit shaky but I don't think anyone could tell from a distance. We did a few laps of the bay and I'm sure all the other people on the beach were suitably impressed and said to each other "I wonder if that's as easy as it looks?" like we did a few days ago at Lulworth. It is quite a surreal feeling, as it's a bit like you're just standing in the surface of the sea.

I paddled past a couple of lads in their late teens who were having a swim, and overheard them saying "I'm sure that girl's wearing a sports bra" in a slightly incredulous tone of voice. I resisted the temptation to paddle over and spout a load of feminist stuff about men wandering around with no shirts on at the slightest hint of sun, and just paddled serenely past them instead.

We had the biggest Belgian buns I've ever seen afterwards, and spent another hour or so sunbathing. I fell asleep and woke up with a sunburnt left arm and a headache. Claire says she isn't sunburnt but appears to be red all over.

We've parked up for the night in the National Trust car park again. We've been bold enough to have a barbeque here, and Claire has made some bread rolls on it which have turned out far better than any of the muffin attempts.

Tomorrow we will start to head towards home, maybe stopping for a final cream tea on the way.

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Seal Spotting

Thursday 12th June 2014

George's World Tour South of Stoke - Day 12

I was awake on and off from about 5am, partly because of cars going past, and partly because the sun was out and it was getting hot in George. Claire insisted on staying in bed until 7.30am as that's when the alarm was set for. We had fried egg sandwiches for breakfast, during which several passers by said a cheery good morning. One even said "hello campers", and another was certain we must be from New Zealand as apparently no British folk would be driving round in a Japanese campervan with a canoe on the roof.

We picked the sea kayaks up at 9.30am and decided to turn left out of the river mouth today. Ben told us we might see some seals on the rocks on that side.When we left, the tide was going out so it was easy paddling. There was no wind and the sea was really calm. It was hot even at 9.30 and I'd covered myself in sunscreen, fully expecting to get sunburnt if I wasn't careful.

We worked our way round the coast, into all the little inlets and between the rocks. The sea was turquoise and it didn't really seem like we were in England. We spotted some baby oystercatchers and were about to go and have a closer look when their parents started dive bombing us. Oystercatchers have very long pointed beaks so we made a hasty retreat and headed over to have a look round some rocks a bit further out in the sea.

The rocks were the stereotypical shipwrecking spiky type of rocks. But when we got there the water was so calm in between them that we hardly had to do anything to stay still in the water. Which was a good job because we were far too busy seal spotting to worry about steering the boats.

There were probably about 10 seals around the rocks - a couple just lying on rocks in the sun and the others were in the water. They were curious about us and every now and then one would dive under, circle our boats under the water and then pop it's head out, usually behind us, making us jump by blowing water out of it's nose.We hung out with the seals for about an hour and we able to get pretty close to them, within a metre or two.

After that we paddled back across to the main coast and continued along like before. We eventually stopped for lunch on a little beach with sheer cliffs at the back, so there was no chance of anyone else turning up (unless they came by boat). I checked on my phone and was surprised to find that we were much further along than I thought.

After lunch we went along a bit further and stopped for a bit longer on another beach called Man Sands. I had a nap and Claire had a swim (well, she says she did but I was too busy napping to see). Then we had a muffin before heading back.

We took a more direct route back, which Claire was a bit grumpy about until she realised how quickly we got back. We went into another sea cave, which was a bit scary because it was dark, and we had to reverse all the way out as it was so narrow. Then we went in the cave from yesterday again, but couldn't do the cave loop because the water was too high and the gap too narrow.When we emerged from the second cave, Claire spotted a bird perched on the edge of the cliff and went frantically paddling towards it. It looked like a pigeon to me, but when it flew off it turned out to be a Peregrine!

We paddled back into the river mouth, again with the tide as it was now coming in, just as a big naval ship was leaving.

We finally got back on dry land at about 5.30pm, returned the boats, and headed straight for the free showers again to wash off my multi layers of sunscreen and a days worth of salt and sand. So far, I don't seem to have any sun burn.

This evening we've had a couple of beers and fish and chips, and I'm now so tired I can hardly type.

Hopefully I will sleep for longer tonight even though we're staying in the same place as last night.
We have lots of seal and boat photos which I will add when I get home.

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10 out of 10

Wednesday 11th June 2014

George's World Tour South of Stoke - Day 11

You'll be relieved to hear that I woke up feeling much better today, with no headache and no back ache, and that I anticipate today's blog being much more upbeat than yesterday's. We had no problems at all with our overnight spot, and actually stayed there until about 12 noon chilling out and reading (or in Claire's case working herself up into a frenzy about the afternoon's sea kayaking).

We arrived at our meeting point, the Dingy Park in Dartmouth at 1.30pm for our afternoon trip. Our guide, Ben, was there already and was busy unloading kayaks and kit from a trailer. As it is not quite the busy season, there was no one else on our trip today, which we had hoped might be the case. The kayaks were proper sea kayaks (not sit on top boats) and we were loaned buoyancy aids, spray decks, waterproof jackets, and sunglasses retainer cords before setting out on the water. Ben was quite relaxed about things, whilst managing to discreetly find out by chatting about various boat and mountain adventures, that we have some paddling experience but still needed keeping an eye on.

Our start point was in Dartmouth by the Higher Ferry point and after a few "we haven't been in a kayak for a while" wobbles, we were off towards the river mouth and the sea. It was then that I remembered a secret that I have kept from Claire for some time - I like kayaking better than canoeing.
We were paddling against the wind and the tide but it still wasn't too difficult. We made our way to the sea and turned right along the coast, up to about the point where we'd spent the night in George. We were surprised to be able to paddle quite close to the shore, between rocks and cliffs, without being in any danger of being shipwrecked. Ben told us that there was a slight offshore wind which is ideal for sea kayaking as it means you're sheltered by the cliffs.

We stopped for a leg stretch on a little beach only accessible by sea. Claire and I took the opportunity to have a cheese sandwich and an orange club, whilst Ben stripped off to his shorts and went for a swim before having an apple. This of course was wasted on us, but I'm sure that for many this would be one of the highlights of the trip.

After that we headed back with the wind behind us and the tide helping us along. Ben asked us if we'd like to go in a sea cave on the way, to which of course the answer was a resounding yes. So we paddled across the river mouth to a cave which was hidden until we were practically there. I managed to paddle inside with only a couple of collisions with the side, and we were able to paddle right through a narrow channel and out a different way! Claire was so overcome with excitement that I was worried she was going to keep going round the cave loop all evening, but we managed to head back to Dartmouth eventually.

On the last bit of our journey a little plan started to formulate in my mind. We were supposed to be heading over towards Dartmoor this evening to spend the last few days of our holiday there. But we'd noticed earlier that not only is there an free overnight campervan stopover spot in Dartmouth marked on my downloaded Tom Tom list, but that there are also free public toilets and showers opposite! This seemed like an example of English campervan hospitality that is all too rare, and I thought it almost rude to let its pass by. I thought that maybe we could spend a few hours on the beach in the morning before heading off.

Ben asked us as we were nearing the end of our trip where we were heading. Claire quickly replied that we were heading inland towards Dartmoor, and I thought that was probably the time to put my cards on the table and say that actually, I've got another idea. Claire responded with "if it involves the sea or the beach then I'm all for it" so that was that.

We parked George up at the side of the road near where we'd put the kayaks in, made use of the free showers, and then headed into town for a beer in the sun.

During the beer(s) we checked the weather forecast, found that 2 days of sunshine are forecast, and emailed Ben and asked if he'd hire us two sea kayaks for the day tomorrow. He was more than happy to, so we have now changed our plans and decided to leave Dartmoor for another time.
So tomorrow we'll be waking up alongside the boat moorings in Dartmouth, and then spending the day exploring the coast on our own, sunbathing on our own private beach, and practicing some kayaking skills.

We've just had an Italian meal for dinner. For once, I don't feel too full because I had a fancy truffle and vanilla oil pasta parcel thing which was much less stodgy than your regular Italian. Claire had a meat feast calzone and is now slumped in George nursing her food baby.

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4 out of 10

Tuesday 10th June 2014

George's World Tour South of Stoke - Day 10

I had a terrible night's sleep last night. I felt like I woke up about every 20 minutes. One time when I woke up there was the most amazing sunrise outside but I was too grumpy to take a photo of it. And another time, Claire was outside fiddling with the guy lines on the canopy, making them so tight they were making similar noises to guitar strings. Apparently something was tapping.
When I eventually got up my back was hurting so much I couldn't put my socks on. Fortunately, after some stretches, ibuprofen and bagels it got a lot better and I was able to put my socks and trainers on.
I've spent most of the day with a headache feeling tired and grumpy. Before anyone starts jumping to conclusions, this was down to the bad sleep and lingering back ache and not by over indulging in beer the previous night.

Our main objective today was to have our first cream tea of the holiday. Claire was like a cat on a hot tin roof about it and was on the lookout from the minute we left the campsite. I soon realised that a mid afternoon cream tea would be too late for her, so we ended up stopping in Brixham at about lunchtime for one instead, this being the first place we'd come across that seemed to meet our criteria (easy and not too expensive to park George, and not in the dodgy end of town).

We settled on a little cafe called Tiffany's, which was full of pictures of Audrey Hepburn, and indecisive pensioners who couldn't work their iPhones. I was close to the end of my tether by the time our scones arrived. I always like to give cream teas marks out of 10, and unfortunately this one only gets 4/10. Neither the scones, jam or cream were above average and there wasn't really enough tea. But on the positive side, it is almost a dead cert that our next one will be better.

After that, we caught the ferry over the river to Dartmouth and started looking for somewhere we could stop for the night. We were surprised to find a lovely, free overnight spot in a National Trust car park a mile or two out of Stoke Fleming. I had a bowl of cereal and a nap and felt a bit better afterwards.

I am pleased to tell you that we have booked onto a half day sea kayaking trip from Dartmouth tomorrow, so hopefully the blog will be more interesting and less grumpy.

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Beer in Beer

Monday 9th June 2014

George's World Tour South of Stoke - Day 9

Yesterday evening was rainy on and off, so we decided make the most of the electric hookup and watch a DVD. We would never have chosen to have a DVD player in our camper van, but George was slightly pre-owned and already had one fitted (I say slightly because although he was definitely pre-owned, it was pretty obvious he'd never been used as a campervan before we rescued him from his life of boredom). Anyway, the DVD player does come in handy occasionally and makes a change from Kindles and writing blogs.

We watched some more episodes of what is possibly the worst American crime series ever - Major Crimes. It sounded good on the back of the box but is a bit like Deal or No Deal where Noël Edmonds has been replaced with a few dead bodies, the contestants with some murder suspects, and the banker with the Deputy District Attorney. Whatever you do don't buy it, you can borrow mine if for some strange reason my description has sold it to you.

We packed up this morning and had a leisurely drive along the coast, stopping for lunch on Chesil Beach. Apart from being the title of a novel by Ian McEwan which I have yet to read because the last book of his I read (Solar) was like suicide by novel, it's an unusual shingle beach which is mainly separated from the land by a lake thing called the Fleet. We'd hoped that we might be able to fit in a quick paddle down the Fleet and back but I don't think boats are allowed. There are signs up saying access was on foot only, and the deep shingle prevented us porting the canoe to the water (which was about a mile away before you think I'm being pathetic).

Anyway, we had a nice lunch on the beach watching the fisherman and pondering why a toddler with the family next to us was wearing a purple helmet. Claire decided it was to reshape the toddlers head after a forceps birth (apparently for some reason she has Googled this previously and it is actually something that some parents do). I thought the toddler might be epileptic but it didn't really look like an epilepsy helmet. I'm also slightly paranoid about my own head now after my forceps birth some time ago, but think it is too late to do anything about it at the age of 36 and three quarters.

We left Chesil beach after a while non the wiser and continued on in George.

Our next stop was at Charmouth, which is world famous for its fossil beach. Claire was dying to visit as she'd been to a fossil beach nearby as a child and said that practically every rock on the beach has a fossil in. It all started off a bit disappointing (and I was starting to think that Claire had been tricked by her parents) but eventually we realised what sort of rocks had the fossils in and managed to find a few baby ammonite and shell fossils.
I got a bit bored after a while as I was hungry, which Claire eventually picked up on, so we headed back along the beach to the cafe.

One of our objectives today was to have our first cream tea of the holiday, which to be honest is something that we have overlooked up to now which is totally unacceptable. However, the cafe had probably the most unappealing looking scones ever, which were not only not served with cream, but no jam either! So we decided to put the cream tea off and just had ice creams which were much more satisfactory.

Then we visited the fossil shop, felt quite embarrassed about our fossil finds (Claire actually left hers on the car park in disgust), and headed off to find somewhere to stop over for the night.
The choice of wild camping spots was limited, and I was getting a bit grumpy about it. To be honest, I wanted to spend a relaxed evening by the sea eating fish and chips and drinking beer. Claire was eventually persuaded round to my way of thinking, and we have checked into a campsite at a village called Beer!

We've had our fish and chips, which were the best I've had in ages, with both fish, chips and curry sauce being excellent, and the salt and vinegaring technique was far superior to the norm. We're now sitting in the beer garden of the Anchor inn in Beer, drinking Peroni overlooking the sea.

The rest of the evening will either be spent drinking more beer in Beer, or watching more Major Crimes if we can't fit any more food and drink in.

Tomorrow the search for cream teas will continue in earnest. Now that we have crossed the border into Devon it shouldn't be too difficult.

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A picnic on the beach

Sunday 8th June 2014

George's World Tour South of Stoke - Day 8

After our early morning photography trip we had another couple of hours sleep in George, and then a nice bagel breakfast to start the day off. We've decided to stay at the same campsite for another night, so we've upgraded to a pitch with electric hookup and no pooing rooks overhead for an extra £5. So everything that can be charged is being charged up before we leave.

We are very happy with the campsite. It's actually a big static caravan park with touring pitches too, but you don't really notice the static caravans from where we are. There are also some cute little glamping pods which I think would suit a few people I know.
It's costing us £25 a night for the electric pitch (£20 without), which is more than we're used to paying in Scotland, but quite reasonable for the South. And if we hadn't camped here then we'd have had to pay £8 a day for parking nearby. If you're coming on holiday near here and think you might want to stay then it's called Durdle Door Holiday Park.

We headed off on foot to Lulworth Cove after breakfast, with a picnic. It was blazing sunshine, the first proper sun my skin has seen since last summer (and then the sun was only out for about 5 minutes as I remember), and despite the factor 30 I'd slathered myself in I could still feel my shoulders burning.
We arrived at Lulworth to find the expensive and busy car park was even busier than yesterday (still the same price though). There were people milling around everywhere but we managed to find a fairly quiet spot about half way along the beach to stop for lunch.

We spent an hour eating and watching some people on a stand up paddle board, which they made look quite easy. I think it must be harder than it looks though otherwise everyone would have been doing it. A bit later they were packing up, and we realised it was an inflatable one. We've decided we want one and I'm sure Claire will be straight on the internet when we get home, that's if she hasn't ordered one already (I've now been informed that Google says they're expensive!)

Lulworth is one of those picturesque seashell shaped coves that you see on postcards and tourism brochures, when it appears deserted and tranquil. Probably those photographers had to put in a few early mornings to get their shots as there'd be no chance during the day.

We had an ice cream and popped into the visitor centre before we walked back (because I wanted to find out why Durdle Door has got such a stupid name), and then settled down in our folding chairs outside George to enjoy a beer in the rest of the day's sun. Unfortunately, the sun had other ideas and went behind a cloud before we'd finished the beers, before giving in to a rain shower.

We've spent the rest of the day washing rook poo off the canopy, inspecting sunburn (not too bad but bras are uncomfortable), reviewing all our photos, and having dinner.
I've managed to get on to the site wifi for long enough to find out a couple of fascinating facts about Durdle Door:

1. Durdle may be derived from the old English word Thirl, meaning bore or drill. But most websites say this is questionable and no one really knows why it has such a stupid name.
   
2. The video for Cliff Richards' Saviours Day was filmed here, and saw Cliff strutting his stuff on the beach and up on the cliffs (Cliff on a cliff - I like what he did there)

Tomorrow we're continuing our journey West. We're hoping to go fossil hunting at Lyme Regis, and hopefully find a nice, free overnight spot near a nice beach. Probably wishful thinking but fingers crossed.

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The most beautiful place in the world?

Saturday 7th June 2014

George's World Tour South of Stoke - Day 7

We were surprised to find when we woke up that not only was there no moat of apocalyptic fire and brimstone surrounding George, but that it hadn't even rained overnight. The heavens did decide to open for about 20 minutes, just as I wanted to come back from the shower block, but within about an hour the skies were blue and the sun was back out.
We managed to get our laundry done while the weather was sorting itself out, and before too long we were back on the road, heading for the South West coast.

We had to stop off at Sainsbury's and this time managed to purchase some beer with a slightly higher alcohol content of 4%, along with far more food than I thought we'd be able to fit in George. But as usual we were surprised by the amount of space in his cupboards.
We stopped off for lunch by the sea near Poole before the final part of our journey today to Lulworth Cove. We were slightly alarmed at the warnings of gunfire and tanks crossing but made it through unscathed.

The car park at Lulworth Cove was expensive and busy and we didn't stop there. I didn't really want to share the cove with anyone else (except Claire) and thought we might be better going there in the evening or early morning when everyone else is busy doing something else.
So we decided to drive a couple of miles along the coast to see on the off chance if the campsite marked on the map near Durdle Door had pitches available that we could afford.

We were pleasantly surprised to find that not only was the campsite fairly quiet, but that it was also affordable (by South Coast standards), and then the lady on reception gave us a 20% discount! After we'd paid she explained where the various camp site facilities are and then with a slightly dreamy look in her eye, told us when we'd pitched up to just follow the track down to the most beautiful place in the world. I decided that asking her if she'd ever been to Scotland might have spoiled her moment, so we thanked her and headed off to get George settled in.

We parked up in a little woodland area, which in hindsight turned out to be a mistake as there were some rooks roosting in the trees which have covered George's little porch canopy in poo.
We had a BBQ dinner and made some more BBQ muffins, which were better than the cupcakes but only slightly less burnt than the first batch of muffins. I think we need more practice.

After dinner we walked down the track to Durdle Door, which is a very picturesque sea arch at the end of a little shingle beach, just along the coast from Lulworth Cove. By this time it was close to sunset and there were only a handful of people on the beach. We spent quite a while taking photos, but were still a bit peeved at having to share the beach with anyone else.

So we decided to head back up to George and get some sleep so we could be up early to be on the beach for sunrise. Crazy I know. I managed to avoid actually saying the words "the alarm's set for 4.10am" to Claire, but I think she knew it was going to be the earliest get up she'd done in memory.
I'm actually writing this after breakfast after the early start. By some miracle I managed to get up without pressing snooze, and then managed to order Claire out of bed with only the minimum of fuss, and by 4.40am we were on the beach with some well done muffins and a flask of coffee. And no one else! There were a couple of fishermen who'd obviously been there all night (as we saw them last night), but they left as soon as we arrived.

We spent over an hour taking more photos and making the most of our sole occupancy, and when we finally walked back up to George at 6am, we still had the place to ourselves.

Before I sign off and head for the beach, I should probably answer the burning question I implied earlier... is Durdle Door the most beautiful place in the world or not?
Well, no, it's not in my opinion, but it comes close. Come and see for yourself if you want to make your own mind up.

Me taking pics

Taken by Claire, with a long exposure and a fancy filter

Taken by Claire, with a long exposure and the fancy filter

Man O' War (the cove next to Durdle Door) taken by Claire

Taken by Claire, with a long exposure during which I remained perfectly still

I took this one. 

And this one

And this one too. I want a fancy filter.

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Pony Trekking

Friday 6th June 2014

George's World Tour South of Stoke - Day 6

The sun was out again when we eventually got up this morning, after I'd turned my alarm off and gone back to sleep for another hour and a half. There were no untimely police patrols overnight, and I'm also pleased to report that the new toaster performed admirably at breakfast time. To be fair, the only thing it had to do was not collapse whilst it was suspending the muffin over the hob, but it did that far better than the old toaster, because of what I hope is a superior and long lasting design.

While we were packing up, a man knocked on the window wanting to chat about George. We were only too happy to oblige, and it turned out that he'd got a Granvia too, which he freely admitted was nowhere near as nice as George. I gave him some tips on how to stop his battery draining (buy an isolation switch off eBay and stop wasting any more time trying to fix it) together with a demonstration, and he went on his way, presumably to place on order on eBay.

After that we phoned a few pony trekking companies, and eventually settled on one just outside Burley. Our 2 hours of terror started at 1pm, so we parked up nearby and had some lunch and read for a bit beforehand. My Kindle was still on strike, and by this time had been banished to a ziplock sandwich bag with 2 of those bag things that absorb moisture from things that aren't supposed to be moist. I spent the time dipping into the 1000 page Rough Guide to England, which we bought specifically because it is written for foreigners and therefore much more entertaining.

We arrived at the pony trekking centre a bit early so I would have time for a nervous wee, and then spent a few minutes looking at the different horses peering over the stable doors. I spotted one called Cindy who I thought would be ideal for me, as I think my feet might have touched the ground on either side, but she seemed to be settled in for the day.

We then spotted a line of much bigger horses that seemed to be waiting to go out somewhere. Three of them seemed pretty chilled out, and were all matching patterns of black and white. The fourth one was the odd one out, a pale grey colour with a few black spots, and was somewhat restless, making that impatient horsey noise, flicking its mane around and shuffling its feet like it was on hot coals.

I'm sure you know what's coming...

Our pony trekking leader, Steph, arrived after a few minutes, asked the four of us (there was another couple in the group too) to stand side by side so she could decide which horse to put us on, and then told each of us the name of our horse. My horse was called Blue. Needless to say, when the restless horse was led out, Blue's name was called and it was time for me to spend two hours sat on the back of what I was fully expecting to be a wild stallion that would gallop out of control through the forest, knocking my head on tree branches and throwing me off it's back into muddy puddles or worse.

We started the session off in the barn, practicing how to stop, walk, and jog. The jogging was a bit scary and I knew my bum was going to be hurting by the end of the trip.
Then we set off into the forest. Fortunately Blue seemed to be much more relaxed with a rider on his back, and seemed more interested in trying to eat tree leaves and ambling along at a pace that even Cindy the tiny horse could have managed, than doing any crazy horse behaviour. He had to be periodically told off by Steph for excessive eating or going too slow. I had to sympathise with him over the eating. It was a lovely way to see a bit more of the forest, and despite my initial terror, you couldn't wipe the smile off my face for most of the trip.

We did a few bursts of jogging, which was a bit nerve racking because Blue seemed to be trying to overtake all the other horses, but it turned out he was just getting a safe distance from Claire's horse Sheyenne's oversized feet. We thoroughly enjoyed our 2 hours, and were sad to get off when we got back (although our bums and legs were quite relieved).

Afterwards, we headed straight for our chosen campsite which is called Hollands Wood. It's in the forest and there is a possibility that some ponies could wander in. It has everything we need including toilets, showers, laundry, other camper vans to compare (unfavourably) to George, and people trying to erect large tents to watch smugly whilst drinking beer. Probably the best thing about having a campervan is the smug feeling you get by turning up at a campsite, parking up, and then whatever the weather, sitting either inside or outside having a cup of tea or a beer within minutes of arrival. Meanwhile families with large tents and air beds struggle around our little zone of tranquility.

We had a barbecue, and then made some cupcakes on the BBQ, which turned out rather soggy. We're not sure if this is because we'd ran out of eggs (the mix called for 2, but we just splashed a bit of milk in instead to see what would happen), or that we were too busy drinking wine and being smug, and put them on when the coals were getting a bit cold. We've decided they'll be no good tomorrow so we're going to have to eat them all tonight. Every cloud has a silver lining.

The forecast for the weekend ranges from apocalyptic to British summer time sunshine and showers depending on whether you listen to the Daily Express or the Met Office. I know who I'd rather side with, but just in case, we have decided not to bother with putting George's pop top or canopy up in case there is even a hint of the tornados and cricket ball sized hailstones the Express is predicting. And we were slightly unnerved by the reception staff here eyeing our canoe and nodding knowingly at us when we booked in.

Tomorrow we're on the move again, where to will depend on the weather. To start with we're going to do our laundry (I'm on my last pair of pants), then do some more shopping in town, before heading onward in the general direction of West.

Fingers crossed, my Kindle seems to be behaving itself now. Further update tomorrow.

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Pony watching

Thursday 5th June 2014

George's World Tour South of Stoke - Day 5

We slept pretty well last night, in fact the only minor trauma was caused by a police car driving past at 5am which was precisely the time I'd popped outside to answer a call of nature. Thank god I'd taken the precaution of hiding behind a wall. They slowed down to admire George, and seemed sufficiently distracted by him not to notice me keeping as low a profile as I could a short distance away.

We got up this morning to a complete change in the weather. The forecast appeared to be right, and the day looked promising with clear skies and sunshine. After a fried egg muffin we headed into the New Forest for a walk, loaded down with a lot of cakes (they were going out of date) as well as our regular sandwiches, Kindles and cameras.

We ambled along in what seemed like ever decreasing circles (although Claire assures me it wasn't), and spotted a green woodpeckers along the route, and a lesser spotted woodpecker (we think) which was inside a hole in a tree poking his head out making a right racket. According my bird app on my iPhone they're common birds in the UK, but I haven't seen any for years. Maybe they prefer it down South.

I also had my first encounter with a group of New Forest Ponies, which roam free throughout the forest. They weren't particularly interested in us and we were able to walk past without incident. I thought I'd been pretty brave until I let myself down by screaming when a cyclist suddenly appeared from behind. I think he thought I was a bit strange until I told him I'd thought he was a horse, and then he thought I was really strange.

We eventually arrived at a little picnic area, which had some nice wooden tables and was fenced in to prevent the ponies stealing food or other naughty behaviour. There was no one else there so we spent a few hours there chilling out as Claire's knee was playing up.
Fairly soon after arriving I spilt a load of water all over the table which upset my Kindle a bit, causing it to keep freezing at crucial parts of the story. I gave up on reading after a while and left my Kindle drying in the sun while I went off to play with my camera.

In an uncharacteristically bold moment, I decided to go against what the sign said on the inside of the toilet door, and approach a group of ponies (by stealth no less) to try and get some photos of them. You'll be pleased to hear that this story does not have a disastrous ending, I was not charged or trampled by any ponies. In fact, when I emerged out of the bracken, they were all flat out, lazing in the sun. They got up after a while and I got a few good photos, in particular one of a nice grey pony swishing its tail.

After that, my Kindle was still playing up, so after our Belgian buns I spent an hour sunbathing and then we returned to George by a far more direct route.
We popped into the local information centre, picked up some leaflets about local campsites, the ponies, and things to do, and then headed across to a shop calling itself an outdoor "superstore". It wasn't as super as it could have been, but we did buy a new camping toaster which I am very excited about using tomorrow.

We've parked George up for the night in exactly the same spot as last night, and have spent the evening drinking wine and eating meatballs and a mountain of only slightly stodgy Smash. We're just waiting for the sun to set behind George whilst perusing some of the leaflets.

It turns out that the ponies we've seen today are not actually wild. We were suspicious that they might not be as some of them have little leather collars on (bit of a giveaway really), and now I've got myself a leaflet published by the New Forest Pony Publicity Group to confirm it, and also provide me with other useless facts that I feel obliged to pass on through this blog.

All the ponies are actually owned by New Forest Commoners, which is not a group of peasants as it sounds, but posh horsey types who exercise their Right of Common Pasture. The ponies are all registered and passported (!) and whilst some spend their entire lives happily roaming around the forest, some are sold to other posh horsey types who keep their ponies in stables instead of forests.There is quite a hierarchy in pony management, with the Commoners at the bottom (well, technically I suppose the ponies are at the bottom), followed by the Agisters and then topped by the Verderers. The 6 Agisters look after the ponies on a day to day basis, and the 10 Verderers sit in the ancient courtroom in Lyndhurst and administer the Law concerning the New Forest as well as having "complete administrative control" of all the stallions in the forest. Not sure how you control stallions, but they seem to know what they're doing as none of the stallions gave us any trouble today.
I think I have stunned you with enough pony facts to last a lifetime, so will move swiftly on and conclude today's blog before you all fall asleep.

You will be surprised to hear not only that we are planning on going pony trekking tomorrow, but also that it is my idea! I'm not really sure why I suggested it given my fear of horses, but hopefully they will be as well behaved as today's ponies. Maybe I will get a discount for being so well informed about ponies.

After that we're going to check into a campsite in the forest and await the thunderstorm that the BBC has predicted.

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Traffic Hell

Wednesday 4th June 2014

George's World Tour South of Stoke - Day 4

I need to get something off my chest (excuse the pun) before I start writing about today. The Bearded Tits mentioned in the previous two days blogs were misidentified and were actually Reed Buntings. This is what happens when you get over excited about what the guide book says you will see - as soon as you see a bird with a bit of a beard pattern on it's plumage you start jumping to conclusions and making dodgy identifications.

We woke this morning to the sound of rain beating down on George's roof, so didn't bother getting out of bed until after 9am. The weather hadn't improved by then but we thought we should get up just in case it did. We both had another splendid shower, breakfast, and 2 cups of tea, by which time the torrential rain had eased off to a slight drizzle, so we packed everything up and went on our way.
We decided to start our journey down to the South coast, which turned out to be much further than I'd expected. Probably because I hadn't really bothered to look at the map beforehand, just assuming that all parts of the country south of home are much closer together than Scotland is, which is our preferred campervan destination. By not looking at the map, I'd also been in blissful oblivion to the M25 forming a pretty much unavoidable part of our route.

The first couple of hours were fine, apart from wishing we'd only had the one cup of tea, and the Tom Tom behaving very strangely and intermittently choosing a new route for us thereby adding an hour onto our journey every now and then. But maybe it knew what it was doing and was desperately trying to avoid the M25...

It was after lunch when the problems started. We really should have travelled earlier, or later, or any time that wasn't between the afternoon school run and rush hour. Or just gone to Scotland. But we didn't, so we had to endure miles of tailbacks and the crazy near-to-London Southern maniac drivers.
Honestly, it was a hundred times worse than picking up a brand new hire car in the middle of San Francisco which had funny controls and a bonnet I couldn't see over, and then be expected to drive it out of the city on the wrong side of the road surrounded by crazy American motorists in Jeeps possibly with guns. And yes, I am speaking from only very slightly exaggerated experience.

I think it was probably made worse by the fact that we'd just spent 2 days in the peace and tranquility of a canoe on near deserted waterways, only to spend several hours travelling at about the same speed on a road where we should have been doing at least 60mph. At least we had George's Spotify road trip playlist to keep us sane which includes the delights of Dolly Parton, John Denver, The Eagles, Abba and The BeeGees to mention but a few.

Anyway, we eventually arrived in the New Forest at about 6pm. We found a little Budgens shop and stocked up on those essentials I mentioned yesterday, which by now had been increased to include much more alcohol to help us get over the journey. It was only when I was unpacking it later in George that I discovered that we'd gone and bought 2.8% lager again. Doh.

Wild camping (i.e. spending the night in George in a random car park or layby rather than a dedicated campsite) is banned in the New Forest, and there were some official looking signs reminding us at every possible sleepover spot, so we've ended up stopping for the night on a little road next to the estuary near Downton. It's raining again, but the forecast says tomorrow and Friday will be OK, maybe even sunny.

The New Forest isn't really canoeing country, so we'll be doing some walking and braving the wild horses that roam the forest in packs. At least we have Belgian Buns to help get me through what could be a day of horse filled terror.

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Boat crashes, small town monopolies and more bird watching

Tuesday 3rd June 2014

George's World Tour South of Stoke - Day 3

I was woken at 5am today by 2 crows squawking outside, but they didn't come back after I scared them off on my way to the toilets, and after that we had a bit of a lie in, safe in the knowledge that there would be no angry landowners making an early morning appearance.
It started throwing it down with rain while we were eating breakfast so we had a lazy morning drinking tea and reading. The weather sorted itself out late morning but we didn't leave the campsite until 12 noon.

We'd decided to do one of the canoe routes that Claire remembered the warden had recommended yesterday. The start point was on the edge of a little town called Wroxham, but which really should be called Roysham in my opinion, as Roy has more of a monopoly in the town than Tesco does in the whole country. We saw Roy's department store, garden centre, pharmacy, toy shop, children's clothes shop and haulage company, and that was just on the main road! We didn't contribute to Roy's empire, and managed to find a bit of river bank to launch the boat which didn't have one of Roy's signs on it, and only involved hauling the boat over one gate and rolling it down a small slope on our little trolley.

By the time we got on the water it was 12:48pm, which on some days could be well past lunch time. We stopped for lunch at about 2pm at a mooring spot owned by the local church. There were loads of butterflies, dragon flies and bumble bees flying around, and if it wasn't for the lightning fast green spider on my head then it would have been the perfect spot for lunch. We resisted the temptation to climb the "pilgrim's path" up to the church and after a cheese sandwich and an only very slightly burnt BBQ muffin we set off up the river again.

We could tell that we were paddling upstream today, although it was still pretty easy going. We saw several more kingfishers, and even managed to sneak up on one while it was perched on a branch. No photos though because we didn't dare move to get the camera out for fear of scaring it off. We also spotted the first heron of the trip, some very cute baby water birds (not sure if they were ducklings or goslings), more bearded tits and the nosiest pair of swans I've ever met. They spent several minutes circling our boat, poking their heads in and having a good look. We think they were after food, but they were out of luck.

We finally reached one of the few locks in the area, and decided that was a good a time as any to turn back. It was much quicker going downstream, but we managed to slow down for some ducklings who wanted to make friends. They were a bit nervous but we both managed to stroke them without their parents getting upset.

We stopped at the church stop again for coffee and muffins, and then I had a go at doing the steering for the last bit of the day. You steer a canoe from the back, just by doing a bit of a wiggle with the paddle, or sometimes doing a big wide paddle. Or in my case by getting mixed up and crashing into a load of overhanging trees in an attempt to avoid a passing motor boat. I think they found it quite entertaining although Claire didn't feel the same way unfortunately. I think I need more practice...

We'd found a suitable campsite during our research session at the pub last night, and got here at about 6.30pm. We've found a nice pitch and have both had our first shower of the holiday, in a shower block that is actually nicer than our bathroom at home. I'm not sure whether that says more about the campsite facilities or our facilities, but it was by far the nicest campsite shower I have ever used.

We're having a glass of wine in George now, wondering what tomorrow will bring. We're hoping the BBC have got it wrong, and that it's not going to rain all day tomorrow, but if it does then we will probably start our journey down to the south coast a day early, stopping only for essential food supplies (cakes, breakfast stuff and bread rolls) and some more diesel for the gas guzzler.

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On the second day of holiday my true love gave to me...

Monday 2nd June 2014

George's World Tour South of Stoke - Day 2

I woke up at 6am this morning and couldn't get back to sleep. The sun was creeping round George's curtains and I could hear a lot of cars going past and also a helicopter overhead. I was a bit nervous after finding some old shotgun shells behind George last before bed, and was expecting the arrival of the angry farmer at any moment. I managed a nervous doze until 7.30 and spent a while forcing Claire out of bed so we could have some breakfast.
We managed to leave our overnight spot without any confrontations with shotgun wielding landowners, and we were on the water in the canoe for 10am.

We'd chosen a route starting at a village called Dilham, down to Ludham Bridge or however far we wanted. According to our guide books, the Broads are teeming with wildlife, and we should see kingfishers, marsh harriers, bearded tits and widgeons amongst other things. Normally we take things like that in guidebooks with a pinch of salt, but when a kingfisher shot past us as we were putting the boat in the river we had high hopes for the day.

The paddling was lovely, very easy going compared to the big lakes we are used to, and we got as far as Ludham Bridge in about 3 hours. The water was full of water lilies and lined with reeds and overhanging trees. By the time we'd got to Ludham Bridge we'd seen 4 kingfishers, a bearded tit, several marsh harriers, loads of great crested grebes, two swimming snakes (!) and some other regular wildlife (all to the tune of the Twelve Days of Christmas if you please). Everyone else on the river was very friendly, waving as we passed each other, and a couple of people even decided to take a photo of us. We didn't see any other canoeists though, and only 2 kayaks.

We spotted a couple of amusing signs, one of which was warning us about radar speed detectors on the river! The speed limit ranges from 3-5mph, so we were probably just about ok.

The one thing we hadn't seen much of on the way were tea rooms or any waterside tea and cake sellers at all for that matter. We stopped by a little sign promising tea rooms only a short walk up a track, but when we got there they were closed. We had an ice cream from a little shop and a biscuit from our bag and that had to do.

We had a bit of difficulty getting going again though. One of the Broads Authority rangers had been eyeing up our boat and wanted to talk about it. Even when we were unable to tell him how long the boat was or how it compared to the equivalent Old Town model, he still wanted to chat. He seemed quite shocked at how far we'd paddled and we started getting a bit worried about how long it was going to take us to get back. He recommended some camp sites and some paddling routes, most of which we have now forgotten, and we eventually managed to excuse ourselves, only to become embroiled in a lengthy discussion in the ice cream shop about mineral water. After what seemed like about half an hour of chatting we were finally on our way again. We will have to allow extra time tomorrow for chatting to friendly locals.

The way back was no harder than the way out, despite it being upstream. We saw more of the same wildlife, bringing the total kingfisher count to 7, and were back at George for about 5.30pm. We've paddled 18 miles today, which is much more than we usually do, but have only got quite minor aches and pains.

We then embarked on a wild goose chase looking for a campsite. We ended up following a brown sign which turned out to point to a members only campsite by the sea, miles away from where we first saw the sign. We finally found a cheap but basic campsite by a pub in Ludham Bridge of all places which is fine apart from the lack of showers. We are going in for a pint when the BBQ muffins have finished cooking, to use their wi fi and research suitable campsites for the remainder of the trip!

Tomorrow will be more of the same, but on a different bit of water, and with muffins and an extra flask of coffee. Hopefully we will be able to spot the elusive widgeons.

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