Tuesday,
August 23, 2016
Dorset:
Discovering Dorset on a Double Decker Bus--From Ludworth to Lyme Regis
Discovering Dorset on a Double Decker Bus--From Ludworth to Lyme Regis
I really
had only one single full day in Dorset and I intended to make the absolute most
of it. The bus drivers had assured me, the previous day, that buses would
run along the coast on schedule today—I had much to feel grateful for—without the
buses I’d be nowhere!
Being an
early riser by habitude, I watched The
Breakfast Show on TV (did I mention that I feel lost without a TV set at
home in London?), then dressed and prepared myself for a hectic day ahead. I
went down exactly at 8.00 am to make myself a Continental breakfast to take
away: toast with marmalade, juice, fruit. I would have to forego the Full
English breakfast (to which I had been looking forward) because I had an 8.17
bus to catch that would take me for 2 stops to the Esplanade and then an 8. 40
bus to take to Lyme Regis. I bought myself a Full Day Pass for 12 pounds
(turned out the driver charged me more—it ought to have been no more than 8
pounds—like I said, I was getting used to rotten luck!). Since I reached The
Esplanade early—there weren’t many people around except for dog-walkers—I got
myself a lovely cappuccino on the beach and sat to watch the sun throw shimmery
zigzags on the water.
About 10
minutes later, my bus pulled up. I showed my pass to the driver and took my
seat up on the top deck, right in front, as is my wont. Five minutes later, a
member of the bus company got on board and took a seat next to me. I had my bus
time table open and was trying to figure out my connections. I intended to stay
on the bus along the Jurrasic Coast all the way to Lyme Regis (about 2 hours
away) through sprawling Dorset countryside, stop on my way back at Bridport and
West Bay, stay at each place for an hour, then return to Weymouth by 2.00 pm.
After a quick sandwich lunch somewhere, I thought I would take another bus
going in the opposite direction to Ludworth Cove to see Durdle Door. But
looking hard at the time table, I discovered that there were only 2 buses a day
from Weymouth to Ludworth Cove and nothing after 12 noon! Wait, what??? On the
other hand, the ‘Jurrasic Coaster’ ran all day! Once again, it was only
Providence that prevented me from having another rotten disappointing day. It
was time to reverse my plans—it would be Ludworth Cove and Durdle Door first, followed by Lyme Regis!
I
literally ran off the bus just as it was preparing to leave! My bus to Ludworth
did not leave for another half an hour. This gave me time to people-watch on
The Esplanade—to watch life return to the town. Dog-walkers disappeared, early
breakfasters appeared. Businesses began to set up for the day. It is a good
time to note down a few things about Weymouth.
A
Bit About Weymouth:
Weymouth, a typical coastal Dorset town, was
put on the tourist map in the 1700s when King George III (the ‘mad’ one) made a
trip there. Ever since then, the English have flocked to this ‘seaside’ town
(which is what the Brits call the beach). To commemorate this visit, there is a
huge statue on The Esplanade that has given the entire area a name: King George
Statue! The King is shown standing in ceremonial gear—all wigged and powdered
with a stack of books by his side, wearing an ermine-lined cape and hose. The
sculpture is painted in vivid colors—which gave me an idea of how the ancient
Greek sculptures might have looked when freshly executed.
Shops
line the beach front—selling souvenirs (postcards, magnets—which I bought) plus
every possible kind of beach paraphernalia (spades, pails, even boogie boards
and dingies!). There are also tons of restaurants and very predictable ones:
for the Brits have a seaside routine. It includes eating fried food (mainly
fish and chips although I did also see funnel cakes) for lunch or ‘tea’ and
eating a ‘cream tea’ (which, for the longest time, I used to think was tea with
cream in it. Turned out the Brits never put cream in their tea—they use milk.
The cream in question in a ‘cream tea’ refers to the lashings of clotted cream
that are piled on to a split scone together with strawberry jam—which is what
they eat with their ‘pot of tea’). They also must eat ice-cream at the beach
and thousands of cones are consumed each day at the seaside. They will queue
patiently for up to 15 minutes for an ice-cream cone! They find a spot on the
sand, cover it with a blanket or a tent (I rarely saw deck chairs) and open
their coolers filled with cold drinks and sandwiches. The beach is covered with
colorful human beings for everything is brightly colored—from their swimsuits
to their umbrellas to their towels. The water was filled with human
bodies—because these days are exceedingly warm for them and they seem to prefer
swimming to sunbathing. You apparently cannot leave Weymouth without eating
fish and chips—I would be the exception. When they have turned beetroot red,
they pack up and leave and resolve to return again, the next year. They have
been doing this for two centuries! So, a trip to Weymouth was for me a lesson
in British Cultural Studies.
Off
to Ludworth Cove:
My bus
arrived in 20 minutes’ time. I sat on the top deck with a middle-aged couple
from Barcelona who had the bus time table open and were also trying to figure
it out. We got into conversation and discovered that we were carrying the exact same leather bag--that I had purchased in Barcelona! Now what are the odds of that happening? We also discovered that we were both off to
Ludworth—they to the Cove, me to Durdle Door. It was their intention to get off
the bus at Ludworth Cove and walk along the South Dorset Coast Path for about
25 minutes to Durdle Door. Since Durdle Door was my priority, I decided to do
the reverse journey—see the natural rock formation that juts out into the sea
and then walk to Ludworth Cove—if I felt up to it. Having lost an hour in the
morning, I was reluctant to veer too far off plan.
Getting
to Durdle Door:
It was a
gorgeous day—I will say that. Dorset slumbered under perfect blue skies. But it
was also a trifle too humid and when I got off the bus at what is called
“Durdle Door National Park”, I had no idea what to expect. About four other
people got off with me. The driver told us that there would be a return bus in
exactly an hour. This would be plenty, I thought, to see the Door, take a few
pictures and return to the stop.
Well…..nothing
had warned me about how challenging it is to get from the bus stop to the
viewing point. You walk downhill for about 20 minutes and arrive at a kiosk
that sells cool drinks and souvenirs and distributes maps of the area (they
were out of stock when I asked for one). From there, you walk downhill for another
20 minutes along a well-trodden path passing by people who have seen the sight
and are on their return trek. They are panting like dogs and you begin to
wonder how on earth you are going to get back up again! At times the path is so
steep and the gravel so loose that you risk slipping—I almost did at one time
although my shoes have terrific traction.
Anyway,
after what seems like an eternity, you arrive at the coast and are rewarded by
stunning seascapes. The water is an incredible blue—never have I seen such a color
except in Hawai’i and at the Cote D’Azur. You see an almost perfect cove deep
below you and you notice stone steps carved into the side of the hill that
would get you down. People are swimming in the sea, there are sunbathers and
kayakers—but you wonder where the heck is the Door. And another five minutes
later, there it is.
As I
explained, Durdle Door is a natural rock formation in the shape of a door or
gate—it is a perfect rock arch that extends into the sea from a rocky
promontory on the coast. This entire area is known as the Jurrasic Coast
because geological activity caused many shifts that resulted in interesting
rock projections, well-formed bays and coves and white-faced chalk cliffs. In
fact, Dorset probably has just as many white cliffs as does Dover—which have
become legendary. Across the English Channel are the Channel islands—Jersey and
Guernsey—but you cannot see them from this part of Dorset. People had paused to
take pictures. While I am always the rare being who is usually alone at such
sites, on this occasion there were three of us: another man who sounded American
and a woman. We requested each other to take our pictures with the Door in the
background—and that was how I got talking to the woman.
Pictures
taken, it was Been There, Done That. I saw the entrance to the Dorset Coastal
Path and for a while I stood undecided. Should I walk to Ludworth Cove? Or
should I pass? It was already about 11. 30 and I was keen to get a move on. It
would have been lovely to see the Cove which Hardy had described as “perfect as
the Mediterranean”, but there was just as glorious a cove just below me. In
fact, the Dorset coast at this point is visually stunning. On a clear day—such
as the one we had—you feel you can see forever, past the white cliffs that
border the ocean to the distant beaches of Bournemouth.
My
decision was made. I was going back to the bus stop. I had about 20 minutes to
do it—to climb that challenging hill and get past the farms and fields to the
bus stop. It was easier to do in company and the single other lady with me climbed
alongside me. She informed me that her friend was waiting at the top with her
14-year old dog. She felt sure the dog would not be able to make the climb back
up—so she had declined to see the sight. The lady with me had an aunt who had a
painting of Durdle Door and decided to see it for herself. Hence, her solo
excursion.
Well,
let’s just say, on the climb back up, I realized I could never do the Inca
Trail to Machu Pichu. It will have to be the train for me! So that’s one item
on my Bucket List that will remain unticked off! We soldiered on and at the
top, I requested the lady’s friend (after we were introduced) to give me a ride
to the bus-stop. They very graciously did so and I was spared a further climb for another twenty minutes. I shared the back seat with a
dog named Yoshi who promptly left his bed to climb on to my lap and look out of
the window! Good Job I love dogs so much! Five minutes later, I was dropped off
to my bus stop and after receiving grateful thanks from me, they drove off.
After ten minutes, my Jurrasic Coaster ambled along and in I jumped. Half
an hour later, I was back at the King’s Statue ready to take my connecting bus
(No. 53) to Lyme Regis.
Off
to Lyme Regis:
The bus was pretty packed this time with a
lot of people getting off either en route or at Lyme Regis. Once again, my seat
at the top and in the front gave me spectacular views of the county of Dorset
stretching out in emerald-green gentle rolling hills and of charming stone-clad
villages with little pubs, ancient red brick village halls and the like. We
passed by the wide expanse of Chesil Beach (which goes on forever) and which
Ian McEwan, my favorite author, made familiar in his book On Chesil Beach. We also passed the hilltop stone structure called
Abbotsbury Abbey which occupies an enviable spot and offers grand coastline
views. Or was it Clavel Tower?At Bridport, we drove through the main street and I got a sense of the
locations used in the TV series, Broadchurch
(which I had loved) although the bulk of the filming was done just another
20 minutes away in the much smaller coastal town of West Bay. I stayed on the
bus past West Bay and finally arrived at Lyme Regis at about 1.45
pm. Another lady who had clambered up to the top got off one village earlier at Charmouth. She told me how much she loved sitting on the upper deck (no matter how many loads she is carrying). She also told me that she loves traveling and exploring alone. I had found a kindred spirit!
Exploring
Lyme Regis:
I was
excited to be in Lyme Regis—another place that has been on my To Do List for
ages. Why Lyme Regis? Well, ever since I read the book by John Fowles and then
saw the film, The French Lieutenant’s
Woman, where the opening scene presents this endless walk along The Cobb by
the Victorian female protagonist, I have wanted to be there myself. Before
Fowles, Jane Austen had set a memorable scene at Lyme Regis (a town she knew
well as her family often spent their summers there) when Louisa Musgrove in her
novel Persuasion tumbles down the
steps when trying to be a show-off. Later on, more recently, I read Remarkable Creatures, the novel by Tracy
Chevalier which introduced the world to Mary Anning, the amateur paleontologist
who discovered the almost perfect skeleton of an ichthyosaur (an extinct cross between a crocodile and a dinosaur) on the beach while
collecting fossils. Her original home has been converted into the Lyme Regis
Philpot Museum—and I was keen to visit that. So, in many ways, this was a
literary pilgrimage: a search for some of the spots in England to which I had
become introduced through fiction.
Visiting
the Lyme Regis Philpot Museum:
I gave
myself two hours to visit Lyme Regis and to do all the items that I wished to
tick off. Rather obliging, the bus dropped me right outside the Museum which
made it really easy for me to drop everything and go there first. There is a
big cut-out of Mary Anning in Victorian garb welcoming visitors inside. There
is a fee of 5. 50 pounds but since their credit card machine wasn’t working,
they let me in for free—which was very kind of them indeed. The house has been
refurbished a couple of times to make it structurally strong but the interior
is exactly as it would have been in Anning’s time. It was from here that she
would run to the beach each morning, hope the tide had left fossils behind,
search for them with her brother and then sell them outside her house to
passing visitors. Remember this is the Jurrasic Coast and there are still
plenty of fossils to be had—mainly of ammonites or nautilus shell-creatures.
The
museum has plenty to offer and it is a pretty wonderful place in which you
could easily spend half a day if you wished to read all the exhibits. It is
beautifully curated (John Fowles was once the curator here—it is what gave rise
to his other novel, The Collector and
I understand that The Magus also has
some connection to Lyme Regis and to this museum). He collected a lot of
interesting natural objects (bird’s nests, for instance) that are on display in
a special section devoted to him and his work. There is a section devoted,
likewise, to Jane Austen and to Persuasion,
to Mary Anning and her work and a passing reference to Tracy Chevalier (they
really ought to give her more prominence as most of the people in the Museum
seemed to come there because they had read her book). Lyme Regis and Dorset’s
sea-faring history is also well documented at this place and I have to say I
thoroughly enjoyed my visit even though it was very brief. There are walking
tours of Anning’s Lyme Regis and fossil hunting tours offered on different days
of the week, but since my visit was short, I could not avail of them.
Off
to The Cobb and On It:
My feet
have already begun to protest from too much walking—so I am restricting my
movements to the minimum and trying to take buses wherever I can. However, I
could not resist walking along The Cobb—a 13th century structure
that was built to keep the tidal waves from lashing the town. Over the
centuries, it has been rebuilt and strengthened, but it is only when you are
actually on it and walking over its uneven stones that you realize how
unbalanced it is—it seems to be leaning towards the right hand side and bending
into the sea. Certainly it was a mighty experience to walk on The Cobb, to
wonder how Meryl Streep could possibly have strode so fast upon it with Jeremy
Irons’ character following swiftly behind her, to pose and take pictures and
gain a sense of what it might have been like to be a Victorian woman. I loved
every second of it.
It is
also when you are on The Cobb that you realize where Louisa Musgrove tumbled in
Austen’s indelible scene. Along the walk to the Cobb from the Marine Parade, I
kept thinking she had fallen from there to the beach. But it was from The Cobb
that she had fallen because it is built in tiers. When I tried going down those
stairs myself, believe me I was terrified. There is no hand rail to guide you
down, the stairs are high and steep and very narrow—so you need to walk down
really gingerly. Imagine doing that in your ankle-length Regency dress with
your fancy heeled leather shoes and a parasol in your hand! No wonder poor Louisa
fell!!! I had pictures of me taken at
the steps and then hurried off to buy my souvenirs for I had a bus to catch in
another 45 minutes and I had no idea how long it would take as the pick-up
point was different from the drop-off one!
Lyme Regis
like Weymouth had wall-to-wall human beings on the beach and the rocks and the
benches and everywhere! It was simply packed to bursting. On the waterfront,
the shops were doing brisk business in sales of fish and chips and ice-cream.
Loads of people were frolicking in the waves. It could have been Weymouth all
over again—there was so little difference.
I walked
towards Broad Street and, quite by accident, found the house (Pyne House) which
is the most likely house that Austen’s family rented on their summer visits
to the seaside town. Further up the road, there are more houses and one of them
was inhabited by Mary Anning after she moved from her birth home. The streets
are narrow and fully festooned with red, white and blue buntings (to celebrate
the Olympics?) Traffic moves sluggishly in and out as there is little room for
vehicles and human beings. It was so hot that if you were not in the water, you
desperately looked for a small bit of shade to plop down in. It was also very
humid. I simply had to get an ice-cream myself and I picked it up from a local
Co-op shop.
Ten
minutes later, my bus arrived. I hopped in and later discovered I had taken the
wrong one. At Bridport, I would need to change to get to West Bay. By this
time, I had found out that not a lot of the scenes from Broadchurch were shot
in Bridport (although the cast and crew made it their base). West Bay was where
I would need to be. So when the bus arrived at Bridport (and because I had
already done so much walking for the day), I stayed put at the bus station for
half an hour and awaited the right bus. A quarter of an hour later, I was in
West Bay and it was here that I hopped off. I gave myself one hour to find the
locations and then get back on the bus to Weymouth.
Exploring
West Bay:
The
tourist center in Bridport apparently distributes a large poster giving details
of exact locations in West Bay where Broadchurch was shot. Since I could not
get a hold of one as I could not find it, I had taken a photograph of the poster
on my phone that I had found at the bus station and used it as a guide to find
the spots.
West Bay
is also a seaside town—but smaller than Weymouth, Lyme Regis or Bridport. It is
basically a wide marina with tons of boats and fishing craft moored about and
then a wide pebbly beach. Before I crossed the beach, I passed by the tiny
Methodist Church at the corner which was dressed up to function as the home of
the old newsagent who was accused of the crime and who committed suicide in the
show. I took some pictures there too. Then,
I crossed the sands and arrived at the iconic brown cliff that borders the
ocean and where Danny Latimer’s body was found in the opening episode of Broadchurch. That was my first goal—to
get there and take pictures of myself in front of the massive cliff face. When
that was done (and an enormous amount of pebbly sand had lodged itself in my
shoes and socklets), I hurried off the beach at the very end and made my way to
the jutting pier that is lined with benches—the last scene of the show was set
here with David Tennant and Olivia Coleman’s characters discussing their
futures.
Further
into the town, I went past little boys fishing for crabs. I could easily
recognize the modern glass-fronted building that was the police station in the
series—I took a picture on those famous steps. And even further away, just in
front of me, I saw the little strip of homes that are built on a lagoon and
that functioned as David Tennant’s home. It is strange really to come upon
these places and recognize them—as if you had actually been in those spots
before. I got into conversation with a couple whom I had requested to take my
picture and they told me that they were thrilled to see stars frequently during
the filming as they live in the town, year-round.
A few minutes later, with my feet aching and
my energy fast dissipating, I waited at the bus stop for the bus which was about
20 minutes’ late—when it did come, I rode it back to Weymouth and reached about
6. 30 pm. Because I am reluctant to enter restaurants alone (and simply had no
stomach for takeaway), I returned on a bus for two stops to my room at the
B and B and had some tea and cookies for dinner! It had been such a full and
purposeful day that I was ready to crash. The heat had contributed to my
fatigue so I jumped into a shower and felt deeply refreshed. Then, I sank down
on my bed to watch some more TV and off I went to bed.
Until tomorrow, cheerio...
