A swift change of plan and I waken up on a deserted beach at the opposite end of the country.
If someone had suggested that it would be fun to make a 1000-mile road trip in 48 hours I would have laughed in their face.
So, the Pirate was handed all responsibility for our alternate DoH weekend and I remained stress free throughout.
16.54hrs and Richard Branson’s railroad carriage departs Motherwell station. I am usually sorted with some drink and nibbles for the journey, however traffic delays threatened to cause me to miss the train and I had to opt for over priced pink wine and a bag of Skips from the onboard shop. At least the wine was cold. Quickly scoffed and I get my head down for a wee kip.
Some nasty bint woke me up by sitting down next to me. Note to self- sit in the aisle seat and occupy both seats for the duration of the journey.
Half way through the journey I get a bit restless and plan another wee visit to the overpriced offy. A quick comfort stop on the way me thinks.
I can hear voices outside and deduce there must be a queue forming. As the door to the lavatory swooshes open I am confronted with a familiar face.
Martin Hooper the Paratrooper is standing in from of me. I thought for a minute there was a problem with the train engines and he had been drafted in to propel the train forward, coz he could you know. The man moves earth when he runs, well according to Corned Beef he does. He was returning home from a week in the Lakes.
The second half of the journey passes in a flash as I am instructed by the Pirate “ better get on the p**s then”
Next day a long lie and no rush to get anywhere. A leisurely journey south, with only a slight map reading misdemeanour. And we’re on Weymouth beach just after 5pm. Crackin beach, proper seaside town. Really clean and lots of good family attractions. Note the distinct lack of tattooed f***wits as we lie down and people watch for a bit.
Find a beltin Greek restaurant (eventually) and enjoy some fresh seafood for dinner.
A little bit of subversiveness was required next. We hadn’t booked anywhere to camp so we sought out a suitable spot.
The main reason for such a long drive was to see Chesil Beach. OMG this place has to be seen. Spectacular!! We drove to the top of Portland and took some photographs. As the area is a nature reserve there is no camping ANYWHERE d’oh.
I can’t tell you where we ended up pitching our 2.4kg tent but let me just say I have never, ever, ever camped anywhere so stunning as this. It took a bit of serious dedication and some superior night vision (I was not allowed a head torch. I had to pick my way down a cliff path in the pitch dark with only moonlight for guidance)
Tucked away in a wee corner our camp was set. Red wine was drunk at midnight under the stars and with the moonlight reflecting off the sea. Very special.
An early rise and time to break camp. Breakfast of smoked salmon and scrambled egg was had at the bistro at Lulworth Cove. Fab, fab, fab. Pretty good value considering it was such a tourist trap. A wander round the visitor centre for some education and learn about how all the rocks were formed. Probably the most perfect way for me to spend a day. A short nap on the beach and some more people watching and all too soon it was time to leave.
I was sorry we didn’t have more time in the area, as Dorset is absolutely stunning. Our whistle stop tour was over. I would never have thought it would be worthwhile travelling so far for such a short break. Well, I will never say never again. An amazing weekend. We managed to cram such a lot in to so few hours but it didn’t feel rushed.
I will return, soon I hope.
Ps. Nae runnin.
Mrs Mac x