Thomas Hardy`s monument

Follow the inland route of the South West Coast Path and you come across some brilliant little gems, from Abbotsbury to a farm that makes its own ice cream (lovely!) to the monument that is dedicated to Thomas Hardy, with no sea in sight!
Whilst at the monument why not have a cuppa at Hobo`s cafe, the people there are friendly, helpful and you`ll enjoy a good cuppa!
The monument itself is falling apart, so sadly it is encased by metal fencing.
But follow any of the routes up during may/june and look at the bluebells that surround the woods or the giant fir cones that line the trees, it is a pleasant and wonderful walk to partake and I shall do all this once again, one day.

Spring and Abbotsbury

These pictures reflect the weather, again hot and humid, and early spring with buttercups and bluebells and newly born lambs!

St. Catherine`s church stands upon the mound at Abbotsbury, with flags and symbols dotted around.

The old train track that once went to Abbotsbury can clearly be seen.

Be sure to visit the friendly cafe, with wonderful food!

Its doors open and old window arched with no glass.

But sometimes pictures don`t need words......

weymouth and portland

The weather was hot and sunny

Willow was enjoying it which I thought was funny! Her big waggy tail going ten to the dozen, travelling along the cliff edges and shores.

Remnants of a time gone by still remain with memorials made from portland stone on Portland Island.

With spectacular views and this was only may, we would be in for a warm one, that was for sure. Our journey from Lulworth Cove to Weymouth was an interesting one, with reminders that the cliff edges are unstable and collapsing.

Some of route is diverted because of a series of collapses and it takes you slightly in land.

A picture of a woman on a white horse can be seen in the distance.

The Jurassic coastline is a stunning one to see, with plenty of fossils and places of interest along the way.

Portland Island houses a young offenders prison, which is quite interesting to walk round and in the 19th centuary prisoners were used to mine the portland stone that is on the island and their are several memorials dedicated to those that mined here.

The view from the top of Portland overlooking chesil beach and Weymouth is staggering with clear blue waters as clear as can be.

When you reach the top, visit the Kings Head and sit in the oldest bar on the island still housing the oldest furniture that has stood the test of time, pets are welcome too!

Lulworth Cove, Durdle Door

With many a standing stone showing you how far you have to go, you don`t mind the journey or the weathers too and fro.
We arrived in pouring rain and blustery winds, putting up the tent was a challenge and a pain!
but the next day was calmer and a sight to see, not a cloud in the sky or a stormy sea.
With Durdle Door infront, it was remarkable how, a perfect arch had been formed and it was true what people said, the sea is as blue as my brothers eyes, sparkling and bright and welcoming us down to its shore, we stood and stared in complete awe, even Willow looked, head up smelling new surrounds.
The white cliffs and purfect blue sea, you felt far away and not in the uk.
Following the tough walk up the hills and down the "mountainsides" we eventually came to Lulworth, though don`t bring your mobile phone, no reception here, peace and quiet is nearly all could be heard.
Lulworth Cove is a hive of activity, with plenty of places to stay and visit and why not try some of the local brew, piddle beer - very nice too!
But as your wandering along the cliffs take a step down and see an old forest that is fossilised but can be seen, the old stumps and hollow trunks look up at you.
Beware the firing range that does still work, though when the red flags flying stay out of the way, luckily no one was firing - not today.

Old Harry and Kimmeridge

From studland bay me and Willow walked,With the sturdy post behind, we knewwhat the walk entailed, long coastal paths with plenty of steep climbs and sheer drops to boot, but we were ready for the challenge, and feet and paws eager and steady!

The weather was sunny, though cool and the "path" was sandy beeches meandering in and out with inlets of fresh water meeting the sea.

The coastal path is not flat, don`t be fooled and the the weather can turn, as we found out.

We wandered along the beach with Willow bounding ahead, tail and ears up searching for every sound.

The sea calm with gently rolling waves, you wouldn`t think it could be harsh and take lives with a change in the tide and wind, but you can`t be complacent.

On a corner we found, Old Harry standing proud.

His big white rock surviving ravages of time, with Old Harry having plenty of tales to tell, but don`t be fooled by what you see as Old Harry is an old white rock standing tall and jutting out, get too close and he`ll sink you, there`s no doubt!

Passing Old Harry we did see many places of disused mines still standing, square entrances remnants of days gone by as the many men that worked them would take the stone from the mines to be used for buildings or pottery, as this was old portland, very popular strong, sturdy stone used everywhere.

As the weather got worse, fog came in, we could hear horses galloping behind.

Me and Willow stopped to let the horses past, but when we turned to look, no horses were to be found. Had we just imagined the galloping that came from behind? If so then why did Willow react too? She just stopped and stared but with ears up and tail wagging, off she bimbled again with not a worry in the world!

We never the horses again.

Along the misty, murky top, it looked like someone had built the leaning tower of pisa in Kimmeridge!

Someone lived there and what a view, though we couldn`t see too much today.

As we ambled along, the clay that was collecting upon my boots felt like I was carrying old diving boots! Occassionally it would drop off and relieve me of my burden.

This was a route of many snails, they littered the path with their many colours and shells, but sadly I couldn`t avoid some as the crunched underfoot! Where were they going and what were they doing? I don`t know but we just kept going.

Kimmeridge was here, its thatched roofs and real fires going as smoke filtered through chimney pots.

The smell of good cooking could be found, especially on this dank and dismal ground, but after a fresh cup of tea and scone we downed, it was back to the camp site, for dry clothes and a good rest.