You can read about a place as much as you like however experience has shown me that it means nothing until you have travelled there yourself. I had read about the Jurrassic coast and I had seen glimpses as I travelled elsewhere but I didn't really have a feel for the place.
I vaguely knew Alesteir Crowley (the wicked man) had visited old Harrys Rock and Beach Head having seen a picture many years before and it was a place that I was looking forward to. Descriptions of it had alluded to the coastal path and descriptions of the path wavered between impossible to pass with bikes or just too plain difficult.
I should note here that having travelled with others, my definition of difficult or impassible tends to differ so I decided to check some of it out for myself. Marc and Richard joined in the escapade and we booked ourselves into a hostel in Weymouth.
I have been having problems with my car, it has developed an interestingly intermittent electrical fault that causes one of the cylinders to stop firing and then to top it all on Thursday I had a tyre blow out which sent me up a Kerb and needed a new tyre and tracking etc.. Despite this I decided I would still go and take a risk.
I packed up and travelled to meet Marc at 5:00 am and then drive to Bristol to meet up with Richard. Several coffe's later and 3 bikes packed into my car we set off. The drive down didn't bode well, the skies were angry and rain came down in fit's and starts. Fortunately by the time we arrived the weather improved and was at least dry if not terribly sunny.
We arrived at our lodgings, I won't give the name despite being great value for money and very clean and tidy the volunteer who ran it was the singularly most annoying, intrusive person I have ever met. He would not leave us alone, he was critical of almost every move we made to the point I would happily have dumped him over the nearest cliff a feeling both my companions shared and several conversations centered on effient ways to dispose of him.
We were so glad to get up in the morniong and be gone that we missed breakfast deciding to get it in Weymouth city centre rather than cook our own. We found a reasonably priced cafe and each tucked into a cooked breakfast which did some to soothe the indignities of a night spent with our strange host.
Over the course of the weekend we cycled out to Portland Bill and out to Old Harrys rocks, both of which are spectacular places!
|A groupie by Old Harrys Rocks|
|Coastal View Note the mediterranean weather|
|The narrow ledge to Old Harrys Rocks|
I have no doubt in the near future this will
be blocked off for safety reasons
|Marc on Old Harrys Rocks|
|Amazingly I didn't collapse the narrow ledge|
|The view from our breakfast table in Swannage|
|a turret shaped building in Lulworth Cove, at first we |
thought it was a gun turret but it is incorrectly placed
and to new for WW2 so we think it may have something to do
|Crystal Clear waters of Lulworth Cove|
|Marc at Lulworth Cove|
|Marc and Richard|
in the words of Alasteir Crowley:
"some men are born to sodomy, some men achieve sodomy and some
me have it thrust upon them!"
|Groupie at Lulworth Cove|
|Ren and Rich|
Personally I just loved the tranquility of the cove and
could have spent the entire day there.
|The Osmington White Horse|
|Inside the castle|
|Great Day Lads|
|View from Portland Bill|
|View from Portland Bill|
|Young Offenders Institution|
strangely odd to find this in Portland Bill
|On seeing this we decided to charge through the water|
or more precisely watch Richard try and then change our
minds when he came to a halt deep in the middle!
we were right behing you Rich HONEST!
|Goats at the Visitor Centre|