On leaving Chickerell, where we’ve had a couple of nights in the well equipped site overlooking Chesil Beach, we head towards Weymouth and the famous, much loved tourist hot spot of West Bay- a bit of a jewel in the Dorset coast’s crown. Husband, apparently, has always wanted to stay at West Bay. I feel sceptical that we’ll get a pitch in the site by the tiny harbour- a ‘holiday park’ type of place with only a few marginal spaces for tourers like ourselves. ‘But it’s not high season yet’ he protests. And of course, the school summer terms are still running; however I know we don’t stand a chance. We pull up into a prohibited space by reception and he goes in. And comes out. And we don’t stand a chance. So while I wrestle with the challenge of biting back ‘told you so’, we make our way out of West Bay. It will have to be visited in a lower season even than this.

Back we go to find somewhere else, turning right down a track that leads to another huge, ‘holiday park’ type of site at Freshwater Bay, just around the corner from West Bay. This time we are in, allocated a pitch on a massive field housing about a dozen campervans, motorhomes and caravans, all fairly isolated from each other. motorhomes and caravans and after a lot of searching we find our pitch.

Much of the site is reserved for static units, most here seem unoccupied, Opposite us and along there’s a huge shower block with dozens of massive shower cubicles and when I go in I’m alone in there.

The site has a chain grocery store, an amusement arcade, a bar offering such thrills as Bingo and an upstairs cafeteria type place with limited offerings- except I can get a prawn salad. There’s a view of the bay though not the sea. Next day Husband can walk to West Bay, which he does.

We’re looking for one last stop before we go home, settling for one on a dairy farm on the way home, located in Portesham, a picturesque village with an excellent pub along the road. The weather is hotting up again as we arrive. It’s busy and we’re directed to a pitch at the end, although not too far from the showers and services!

Before we go to the site though, we drop into the village farm shop, which had looked inviting as we’d passed it en route. It would be great to stock up a bit for our last couple of days. Inside the shop though, there’s little of use! A poor, meagre selection of salad, vegetables or fruit, no meat products and nothing else we can make a meal from except some overpriced quiche in the cafe. Hmm…Appearances can be deceptive. We get some quiche and go to the site- which does offer some interesting vending machines of its own- pizzas, milk etc.

Opposite our pitch, a solo woman arrives and begins to set up a tent. There are several solo women camping here- which gladdens me in some way…

But the woman is struggling. By now the weather has heated up to another heatwave, with relentless sun, not conducive to much activity. She has an inflatable tent- ie it has hollow spines that need to be blown up to support the fabric. But her hand pump is failing to inflate the spines, which keep collapsing. I ask Husband to help [he’s a little reluctant] and he locates our pump. But the problem is with the spine’s valve and only her pump fits. Another man comes to help. I feel an enormous sense of relief that eventually the problem is solved and her tent gets sorted! I so want this woman to enjoy her solo trip!.

We get to the pub later and it’s lovely. Then it’s time to go home. My next journey will be very different, not so pleasant and prevent travel for some time to come- but hey- One day I will get back on the road with more drivel…

Novels by Jane Deans [Grace]: The Year of Familiar Strangers and The Conways at Earthsend. Visit my website: janedeans.com