Rugged Tales

Wherever my feet may take me…


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Halt!

My walk came to an abrupt halt today at the command of the Army. A mile or two on from our campsite the Coast Path enters the Lulworth Ranges. The home of the Royal Armoured Corps Gunnery School, they apparently had their own use for the firing ranges today.

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According to my guidebook “The ranges cover some of the best coast in Dorset and it is a great shame to miss it.” We therefore resigned ourselves to yet another day off but while we settled back to relax and enjoy it the Army were clearly hard at work. We ate breakfast to the sound of distant gunfire, the tanks making an altogether more intimidating noise than the rifles we’d heard from the Royal Marines Ranges at Straight Point.

It made a pleasant change to have a day off where it wasn’t pouring with rain. Unfortunately, we weren’t the only ones who thought so. The upside of the terrible weather has been the deserted campsites. But the combination of an improved forecast and the start of the school holidays bought other tourists out in force. By the end of the afternoon our quiet pitch under the trees had become a melĂ©e of tents, cars, dogs, barbecues and children.

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We escaped the chaos and walked down into Lulworth Cove for dinner. Full of good steak and mellowed by a glass of red wine the sunset over Durdle Door was the perfect end to the evening.

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If only little Jacob next door could be persuaded to stop larking about – and periodically yelling – I could get some sleep…

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Golden arches

Another day, another diversion, this time to avoid the Olympic site in Weymouth. I was initially annoyed to be deprived of the walk around Nothe Fort, but the diversion took us past the Crow’s Nest Bistro in Hope Square where we enjoyed a fabulous cooked breakfast. As I walked on up to harbour, belching discretely, I reflected that in hindsight this was one detour I was pleased to have made.

The harbour was a lovely sight, bathed in sunshine, fringed with historic buildings and filled with boats of all types. I hadn’t realised Weymouth was so attractive.

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The Esplanade, with its B&Bs, deck-chairs and ice-cream kiosks stretching almost to the horizon, conformed more closely to my expectations but I was relieved to find that it retained more charm than Torquay. And once past Bowleaze Cove and up onto the cliffs the scenery got better and better as the low grey and brown cliffs gave way to the characteristic rolling chalk Purbeck coastline. I was thoroughly enjoying myself, despite the effort involved in getting up and down the increasingly steep slopes.

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And we saved the best for last. As we walked I excitedly told Rob all about Durdle Door, the spectacular rock arch I’d visited before on a family holiday to this area. “But that was 20 years ago, right?” he asked. “How’d you know it’s still there?”. “Of course it’s still there!” I replied, indignant.

Wasn’t it…?

Although I guess, in time, it is the fate of all rock arches to degenerate into stacks, happily Durdle Door is still standing for the moment, and if anything more impressive than I remembered it.

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I’ve seen so many rock arches along the Coast Path I’ve lost count but this one knocks them all into a cocked hat. Rob wondered where the other half of the doughnut was. And it’s true all those ascents and descents give you a good appetite!