Tag Archives: Lyme Regis

Affronts on Several Fronts

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The day after the bramble debacle at Symondsbury, Husband’s wounds are on the mend, however we select the road option, rather than the footpath, for a walk into the village and a look round. It is all very cute in an ‘olde English’ way, yellow stone cottages with roses round the door, a rustic church, apple trees laden with fruit. Many of the cottages, though are holiday lets.

A signpost points to Symondsbury Estate and while I imagine this to be an unglamorous, new development on the outskirts of the village it is, in fact an attractive collection of buildings clustered around a square of gardens with a cafe, gallery and craft shops.

The gallery is so new as to be still in the setting up process, but is clearly displaying the work of a single artist and he is there. He’s painted the same view, a forest, many times over in different seasons and weather conditions. ‘Like David Hockney’ I say, since I know that Hockney has himself done this at his Normandy home- painted the same woodland scene in different conditions. The artist snorts in contempt- ‘David Hockney!’ he splutters. But a nearby woman [his wife?] quietly tells him that Hockney has produced some paintings this way- and he becomes silent. I feel it’s time to leave and we continue to the next unit, which has a collection of lovely textiles and items made from them.

From here, we find a path that leads into Bridport. This time it’s not a lethal mud slope to tip us into the brambles, but a meander across grass fields and an ancient sunflower field then on across a river and up a lane. Then we’re on to the outskirts of Bridport. We’ve visited quite a few times, so we’re not exploring on this occasion but take a short stroll up the main street, searching for a bakery without success, before returning to the supermarket to pick up a couple of items before climbing on the bus for a convenient ride back to our site.

We’ve booked a table at the village pub for our evening meal, [open tonight, unlike last night]. The Ilchester Arms has a modest menu but everything is delicious and I’m glad I chose the smaller portion of chicken for my main meal. Neither of us can cope with desert.

For our second day we’re off to Lyme Regis, again by bus, although when it arrives to our camp site stop it’s already almost full. Lyme is a very popular destination for summer visitors and when we arrive in the centre, the driver having negotiated the narrow, twisty street, the pavements, promenade, street and shops are all teeming with tourists.

Husband has suggested pasties on the beach for lunch today- an idea I’m not about to dismiss, so we head to the nearest pasty shop- one of about 5 pasty outlets along the main street- and take our still-warm pasties to the pebbly beach. We perch on the sea wall and keep a close eye on the marauding gulls which swoop and stalk around us in a menacing way. I’ve read that you should stare them out, which does seem to be successful in keeping them at bay.

We have a quick stroll then we’re getting the bus again, this time on to Axminster, which we’ve driven through many times but not stopped to examine.

It doesn’t take long to realise there’s a reason we’ve not stopped here before. Poor Axminster, whilst not unpleasant, has little to offer. A swift walk around the tiny centre, with its nice enough church, an attempt to get a coffee in a courtyard cafe where the woman serving is too busy chatting to akcnowledge our presence and a visit to the community hub-that’s about it; except for one outstanding feature. Down on the path to the station there is a patch of the most delicious blackberries we’ve tasted for years…

Then it’s back to Symondsbury-

Grace is the alter ego of novelist and short story writer, Jane Deans. To date I have two published novels to my name: The Conways at Earthsend [https://www.amazon.co.uk/Conways-at-Earthsend-Jane-Deans-ebook/dp/B08VNQT5YC/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2ZHXO7687MYXE&keywords=the+conways+at+earthsend&qid=1673350649&sprefix=the+conways+at+earthsend%2Caps%2C79&sr=8-1 and The Year of Familiar Strangers [https://www.amazon.co.uk/Year-Familiar-Strangers-Jane-Deans-ebook/dp/B00EWNXIFA/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2EQHJGCF8DSSL&keywords=The+year+of+familiar+strangers&qid=1673350789&sprefix=the+year+of+familiar+strangers%2Caps%2C82&sr=8-1 Visit my writer Facebook page [https://www.facebook.com/search/top?q=jane%20deans%2C%20novellist%2C%20short%20fiction%20and%20blog or my website: https://www.janedeans.com/

Our Close County Neighbours

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Last week I described some of the features of Dorset’s iconic landscapes and seascapes and it’s easy to see why visitors to our lovely county flock here, not only in the summer but throughout the year.

Our neighbouring county to the west, Devon is also a popular tourist destination and we’d booked a few nights just over our county border, in tiny Axmouth, where we’ve stayed before. The site is in the heart of the village, facing the River Axe as it becomes an estuary flowing out to sea at the small town of Seaton. It’s easy to walk into Seaton from the campsite, by walking along the river and across a bridge. A new, road bridge has replaced a much older one, notable for being the first one constructed of concrete!

The site is much busier than it was the first time we came. It is in a wonderful position- not only having interesting views but also near to the two village pubs and bus stops. Across the other side of the River Axe we can see the cute, Seaton trams trundling backwards and forwards around the ‘Axmouth Loop’. I’m a sucker for a tram at any time, but these are restored, vintage vehicles, dinky, colourful and fun.

We head into Seaton and to the tram station. It’s a large, imposing building for such a small tram network! But of course it houses the ticket office, gift shop and is a station. A tram is about to leave, luckily an ‘open-top’, which gives a good view of the estuary mud flats and Seaton marshes. So we clamber up the narrow, winding steps and bag seats on top; soon we’re off, rumbling along a track that winds out of Seaton, past the old tram shed and along the river, where the tide is out and there are flocks of waders congregated on the muddy shores.

An occasional tram passes on the other side, sometimes waiting on a siding. There is one station along the way, in a wooded section, then we roll along to Colyton, where the track ends. The station here capitalises with [another] gift shop and a cafe. After a short turn around the gift shop there’s little to do except wait for the return tram to Seaton, which we do, rattling back the way we came.

We’ve booked to have dinner at the pub which adjoins our site, which is a result! Next day we take advantage of the bus service and go off to Lyme Regis, famous for ‘The Cobb’ and featured in John Fauld’s well known novel, The French Lieutenant’s Woman [also a film]. The Cobb is merely a part of the sea wall surrounding the harbour, but from the end there is a fine view of Lyme Bay. It’s a quaint, characterful town and although it’s crammed with visitors on this sunny afternoon I get a pang of nostalgia as it’s here we stayed 25 years or so ago when Husband and I first got together, taking a room and ‘The Red Lion’ in the High Street and striding out for one of our first SW Coast Path walks.

It’s heartening to see that The Red Lion still exists! For some reason our room’s en suite bathroom had a mysterious, bogus door. Stepping out of the bath, I wrapped a towel around myself and, curious to see where the door led, I opened it, just as people were walking along the corridor it accessed. I wonder who was more surprised?

Later, after dinner I remember we gatecrashed a disco being held by a group called The Buffaloes’, distinguished by hefty chains around their necks, but not by their dancing, as we were the only revellers gyrating on the dance floor. Some of them must have been passing our bathroom when, towel-clad, I opened the door. If they recognised me with my clothes on they gave no sign…

But we aren’t staying in the hotel this time, so it’s back to the bus stop and home to our lovely van-

Grace is also known as the novelist, Jane Deans. Her new novel, The Conways at Earthsend is now out and available from Amazon, Waterstones, Goodreads, W H Smith, Pegasus Publishing and many more sites. Visit my website: janedeans.com or my author page on Facebook: (1) Jane Deans, Novellist, Short Fiction and Blog | Facebook