Two Go Mad In Dorset
So for the last week aquiel9 and I have been off staying in Dorset. Shenanigans ensued...
Saturday 8th Sept
Headed off to Dorset via River Cottage, and after being stuck first behind more bicyclists than are strictly necessary to exist, and then in dual-carriageway-fail traffic, we arrived at Park Farm at about one o clock. Sadly too late to see Gill's talk in the marquee, we passed up the opportunity of seeing Tim's in favour of sitting by the path where Mr Meller happened to be walking up and down quite a lot between the staff area and the barbeque stall, and taking stalkery photos of him.
The food was good (and for £6 for a burger or mackerel inna bap it fucking well had to be) but the service could have been a little more streamlined, by the time we'd queued for about half an hour to get one we were ready to collapse. A pint of Orchard Pig cider soon sorted that out though, and there were a couple of very good bands playing by the bar which we sat and listened to.
Took a wander around the stalls, said hello to the pigs, had a look at the house and kitchen garden (here's a tip guys, if you don't want your cake stall covered in wasps, cover the fucking things up), and watched a bit of the falconry display (which mostly consisted of a peregrine falcon circling the valley and refusing to come down, then perching on the roof of the farmhouse with a 'fuck-you, I'm a hawk' expression on its beak, which was entertaining).
We shared a sausage in a bun (also very nice, also six quid, I imagine they did rather well out of this day, given that it was £15 just to get in) and had a bottle of Stinger beer (made from nettles) which was much nicer than I was expecting, and I'd happily drink more of it. Also spotted wandering about: Tim, fresh from whatever he'd been banging on about in the marquee, Steve Lamb ("pork drawers!"), and the Three Hungry Boys. Oh, and Gill very obligingly came and sat on the grass right in front of us with legs akimbo, but far *too* close to be able to get a picture haha.
Moved on at about four, and went via Tesco to stock up for the week, possibly not quite in the River Cottage spirit, but there were plenty of other people in there who'd been at the fete too, so that amused us.
Found the cottage with no problems, and it's lovely, if very low in places. I just fit under the beams with a few millimetres to spare. aquiel9 doesn't.
Explored the cottage and unpacked - first impressions very good, although they don't provide towels (not even hand towels for the bathroom), or hand soap, there's about two millimetres of washing up liquid left and a manky sponge (brought my own, but the washing up liquid itself hadn't occurred to me), the only toilet roll is what's left on the roll in use, and the cleanliness of the cutlery, crockery and glassware leaves a lot to be desired, I think I've re-washed everything I've wanted before using it so far. It's not *filthy*, just - not spotless, which is fine if it's your own stuff, but less appetising when it's been used by someone else.
View from my window:
The crowning glory though, had to be the abandoned pants aquiel9 found in a drawer whilst unpacking.
The evening was spent with pizza and Doctor Who (Rupert Graves FTW. I think John Riddell is now my new favourite character in anything ever) and then the X Factor, before going to bed knackered.
Sunday 9th Sept
Started the day with what began as an extremely cold shower, before working out that I needed to get out of the shower, open up the boiler cupboard and the boiler controls, and move the water temperature knob up off zero, before the water got above bastard freezing. Then had to get out again and move the temperature gauge up to MAX before the water even approached comfortably warm. I suppose I should just be grateful that the boiler was in the same room, really. Am hopeful that with a day to think about it, tomorrow it might even attain the giddy heights of what could be described as 'hot'.
Cooked a full English fry up to fortify us for a day of doing as little as possible. Turns out in contrast to the heating controls, the fridge is turned up high enough to half-freeze the tomatoes and sausages that were on the *bottom* shelf, so turned that down a bit. It's an adventure in random settings, this place.
We did venture out for a walk (neglecting to take any of the maps with us, for that added level of excitement and mystery) and managed a vague loop that involved pigs, sheep, a deer, and coming down a steep and briar-strewn path that by the end had turned into an actual stream. At which point I was glad it wasn't me that was wearing the open toed sandals.
The 'path' we emerged from:
Walked the length of the village, which is pretty but very much a main road, with heavy traffic. Went into The George for a very nice pint (skirting the group of Ramblers making the place look untidy outside). Would have stayed for more than one, but were surprised to discover they shut at 3pm. Shall have to come back to investigate it properly, and try out the food, as it's run by ex-River Cottage staff, and supposed to be very good.
Spent the rest of the afternoon reading our books, then roasted a chicken for dinner and vegged out in front of the X factor and Dragons' Den.
Monday 10th Sept
Have worked out why I keep drenching myself with the kitchen tap - you have to push it up to turn it off, as opposed to the bathroom tap, that you have to push *down* to turn it off. Not confusing at all. Also, realised why all the cutlery/crockery is less than clean, there's a dishwasher, which I assume everything has been run though and not checked. Explains the smeary glasses and stained cutlery. Standards, people, standards.
Cooked another fry up (well, the left over sausages were getting lonely), then we headed out for Corfe Castle. It's a properly good castle, with amazing views as far as Poole Harbour, and if the weather was less than glorious it didn't really matter. We saw a steam train go past, and had a wander through the village which was very quaint, but suffered from heavy traffic thundering through the centre.
(Overheard on the street, a woman looking at the old houses: "How do they get the roofs to sag like that?")
The village also has an Enid Blyton shop (Corfe was supposedly the inspiration for Kirrin Castle), various potteries (mostly closed), a model village, and numerous gift shops (selling, amongst other things, tasteful (ahem) black and white sketches of Harry Styles. Clearly he's already a national treasure).
We had a late lunch in The Greyhound pub next to the castle, aquiel9 had a salt beef baguette and I had the Piggy Platter - a board with amazing fresh hot crackling (loads of it), pieces of roast pork, and a slice of pork and cider pie (also, a granary baguette and some salad, which I mostly ignored).
From Corfe, we headed for Lulworth Cove, which started off sunny but turned out to be incredibly windy up on the cliff. We gawped at the geology for a bit (concertinaed sedimentary rock strata, arches and blowholes and the like), then went back down for a very nice ice cream (blackcurrant and clotted cream) in the car park.
Last stop was Durdle Door (rock arch in the sea), which was a bit of a steep trek down and back, but worth the walk.
Too knackered to do much more than play cards this evening (sea air: bracing at the time, acts like a sedative as soon as you stop) and went to bed just after nine. And glad that I sat up to write this, because a fucking great spider just ran across the floor and I had to leap out of bed and beat it to death with a shoe.
Tuesday 11th Sept
Out for breakfast today, we went to the River Cottage Canteen in Axminster. Had coffee and sausage sandwiches, which were fabulous, proper fat bangers and homemade ketchup and amazing fresh crusty white bread. Very nice staff and a lovely place, relaxed and friendly and full of interesting things to look at (it's a deli as well).
Now I imagine you could haunt the canteen for days without seeing a sniff of anyone you recognised, but in a case of epic timing, just before we left who should walk in the door but a certain Gill Meller. Somebody hold me, I'm having a hot flush.
Next stop was Lyme Regis, where we bought entirely too many books to be comfortably carried around from the second hand bookshops (Biggles! Worralls! Gimlet Mops Up!) and perused the various fossil shops. Walked along the seafront and out along the cob harbour, before fetching up at Hix Oyster and Fish House at about 2pm, where they just squeezed us onto a table on the terrace (which then remained mostly empty the entire time we were there, but they did at least move us to a better table at the other end).
Very nice meal, if teeth-clenchingly expensive (£108 for two including tip). To start, I had wood pigeon on toast with sorrel (pink slices of bird on some sort of reduction of what was probably its innards, but was delicious) and aquiel9 had crab on toast. For mains, I had mackerel (two fish, very nicely done, with a shaved fennel salad that I donated to aquiel9, because eww, fennel) and aquiel9 had scallops and black pudding on a creamed corn sauce. For dessert I had seabuckthorn cheesecake (wanted to try seabuckthorn ever since they used it on River Cottage, and it was as good as I hoped, very sour and fruity) and aquiel9 had chocolate tart. Then aquiel9 had a coffee while I finished off the wine (very nice bottle of Pino Grigio).
Wandered back through the public gardens, and home for a chicken sandwich and the Great British Bake Off.
Wednesday 12th Sept
The now-traditional fry-up to start the day, and another wrestle with the tin opener, which is shite. It pierces the tin okay, but then refuses to turn, so I ended up having to puncture the tin repeatedly all the way round to get the beans out.
First stop Bridport, to mooch around the street market. Found a bookshop in an old chapel, where the books were all piled in the balcony stalls and the air was full of incense. Seeminlgy run by an odd old couple who might have been druids and might have been methodists, it's hard to tell.
Went on to Netherbury, to walk a loop down along the river and back through the village, to peer at the original River Cottage er, cottage, then drove on to Cerne Abbas. Climbed the hill around the giant, got caught in a brief rain squall, then headed down into the village for a pint in the Royal Oak.
(yes, that is a giant chalk cock)
Our final stop of the day was to have been a cafe in West Bay, but it turned out they stopped serving at 3pm, and we got there about ten minutes too late. By this time the rain was coming in horizontally off the sea, so we scuttled home and made spaghetti carbonara instead.
New River Cottage on tv tonight (it seems to have been that sort of week), featuring Gill flirting like a hussy with Robert Webb, then watched Dallas.
Thursday 13th Sept
Had a lazy morning around the cottage, then went back down to West Bay. Huge difference in the weather today, bright sunshine and an almost cloudless blue sky. We had lunch in the Watchhouse Cafe - I had a whole roasted Brill (which turned out to be the only one they had, which made it an interesting choice to be on a specials list, but yay me). It came with samphire (which sadly was the ropiest I've ever had, it was sharper than the fish bones) and garlic butter and new potatoes and salad. And a bottle of Orchard Pig Truffler cider. aquiel9 had the Dover sole with clams and brown shrimp.
We walked along the shingle beach afterwards, and back along the quay, before driving along the coast towards Weymouth, stopping to take pictures down over Chesil beach. We would have stopped at Abbotsbury and had a closer look, but the carpark was £4, so for the sake of a ten minute walk, we didn't bother.
Went on to Portland and after initially managing to navigate to the prison (seriously, some signs would have killed you?) we got up to the viewing point car park (free, Abbotsbury take note) for more photos the other way up Chesil Beach.
Wandered around the spooky old gun emplacement buildings and into the tunnels, then drove on to the end and the Portland Bill lighthouse, where we watched the ships on the horizon (two grey battleships and a three-masted pirate ship) and had a cream tea on the world's slopiest picnic table.
Back in Chideock, we went out to The George for the evening, where it was their wood-fired oven pizza night. The place was packed, and we had to wait 20 minutes for a table (although found a bench to perch on in the meantime). The pizzas were lovely, although possibly due to how busy it was, the bowl of chips never arrived. I had chorizo (home-made), beetroot and mozzarella on mine and it was delicious (aquiel9 had the same but with ham instead of beetroot.
Friday 14th Sept
Walked down from Chideock to the coast at Seatown for lunch at The Anchor Inn. We sat outside and had fish and chips in local beer batter & ham, egg and chips, with a pint to fortify us before venturing up Golden Cap.
This hill is apparently the highest point on the whole of the south coast and it was quite a trek to the top, but the views were worth it once we got there. Intended to take a different footpath back to the village, but missed a fork somewhere, and ended up back in Seatown, which meant we were forced to have another pint before walking back up the hill.
View from the pub
Golden Cap - from sea level
From the top looking east
And looking west
Had a look in the church next to the cottage, and the little chapel next to it, whose celings were covered in frescoes.
Went out for dinner back to The George, this time having the foresight to have booked a table, although this did mean we ended up stuck out in the restaurant part, which was a bit less cosy. aquiel9 had steak, and I had venison, which tasted lovely, but was sadly way overcooked from the medium that I'd ordered. Should have ballsed it out and gone for rare, then it might at least have been vaguely juicy...
Home to pack, hard to believe this will be the last night, the week's gone stupidly quickly.
Saturday 15th Sept
Came back via Castle Drogo in Devon, on Dartmoor. Beautiful formal gardens (including huge croquet lawn hidden in a massive yew hedge) and impressive house (although it did feel you only got to see a tiny percentage of the rooms there must be). Both decided we need to be stinkingly rich, so we can live somewhere similar, and employ a battalion of devastatingly attractive staff.
Saturday 8th Sept
Headed off to Dorset via River Cottage, and after being stuck first behind more bicyclists than are strictly necessary to exist, and then in dual-carriageway-fail traffic, we arrived at Park Farm at about one o clock. Sadly too late to see Gill's talk in the marquee, we passed up the opportunity of seeing Tim's in favour of sitting by the path where Mr Meller happened to be walking up and down quite a lot between the staff area and the barbeque stall, and taking stalkery photos of him.
The food was good (and for £6 for a burger or mackerel inna bap it fucking well had to be) but the service could have been a little more streamlined, by the time we'd queued for about half an hour to get one we were ready to collapse. A pint of Orchard Pig cider soon sorted that out though, and there were a couple of very good bands playing by the bar which we sat and listened to.
Took a wander around the stalls, said hello to the pigs, had a look at the house and kitchen garden (here's a tip guys, if you don't want your cake stall covered in wasps, cover the fucking things up), and watched a bit of the falconry display (which mostly consisted of a peregrine falcon circling the valley and refusing to come down, then perching on the roof of the farmhouse with a 'fuck-you, I'm a hawk' expression on its beak, which was entertaining).
We shared a sausage in a bun (also very nice, also six quid, I imagine they did rather well out of this day, given that it was £15 just to get in) and had a bottle of Stinger beer (made from nettles) which was much nicer than I was expecting, and I'd happily drink more of it. Also spotted wandering about: Tim, fresh from whatever he'd been banging on about in the marquee, Steve Lamb ("pork drawers!"), and the Three Hungry Boys. Oh, and Gill very obligingly came and sat on the grass right in front of us with legs akimbo, but far *too* close to be able to get a picture haha.
Moved on at about four, and went via Tesco to stock up for the week, possibly not quite in the River Cottage spirit, but there were plenty of other people in there who'd been at the fete too, so that amused us.
Found the cottage with no problems, and it's lovely, if very low in places. I just fit under the beams with a few millimetres to spare. aquiel9 doesn't.
Explored the cottage and unpacked - first impressions very good, although they don't provide towels (not even hand towels for the bathroom), or hand soap, there's about two millimetres of washing up liquid left and a manky sponge (brought my own, but the washing up liquid itself hadn't occurred to me), the only toilet roll is what's left on the roll in use, and the cleanliness of the cutlery, crockery and glassware leaves a lot to be desired, I think I've re-washed everything I've wanted before using it so far. It's not *filthy*, just - not spotless, which is fine if it's your own stuff, but less appetising when it's been used by someone else.
View from my window:
The crowning glory though, had to be the abandoned pants aquiel9 found in a drawer whilst unpacking.
The evening was spent with pizza and Doctor Who (Rupert Graves FTW. I think John Riddell is now my new favourite character in anything ever) and then the X Factor, before going to bed knackered.
Sunday 9th Sept
Started the day with what began as an extremely cold shower, before working out that I needed to get out of the shower, open up the boiler cupboard and the boiler controls, and move the water temperature knob up off zero, before the water got above bastard freezing. Then had to get out again and move the temperature gauge up to MAX before the water even approached comfortably warm. I suppose I should just be grateful that the boiler was in the same room, really. Am hopeful that with a day to think about it, tomorrow it might even attain the giddy heights of what could be described as 'hot'.
Cooked a full English fry up to fortify us for a day of doing as little as possible. Turns out in contrast to the heating controls, the fridge is turned up high enough to half-freeze the tomatoes and sausages that were on the *bottom* shelf, so turned that down a bit. It's an adventure in random settings, this place.
We did venture out for a walk (neglecting to take any of the maps with us, for that added level of excitement and mystery) and managed a vague loop that involved pigs, sheep, a deer, and coming down a steep and briar-strewn path that by the end had turned into an actual stream. At which point I was glad it wasn't me that was wearing the open toed sandals.
The 'path' we emerged from:
Walked the length of the village, which is pretty but very much a main road, with heavy traffic. Went into The George for a very nice pint (skirting the group of Ramblers making the place look untidy outside). Would have stayed for more than one, but were surprised to discover they shut at 3pm. Shall have to come back to investigate it properly, and try out the food, as it's run by ex-River Cottage staff, and supposed to be very good.
Spent the rest of the afternoon reading our books, then roasted a chicken for dinner and vegged out in front of the X factor and Dragons' Den.
Monday 10th Sept
Have worked out why I keep drenching myself with the kitchen tap - you have to push it up to turn it off, as opposed to the bathroom tap, that you have to push *down* to turn it off. Not confusing at all. Also, realised why all the cutlery/crockery is less than clean, there's a dishwasher, which I assume everything has been run though and not checked. Explains the smeary glasses and stained cutlery. Standards, people, standards.
Cooked another fry up (well, the left over sausages were getting lonely), then we headed out for Corfe Castle. It's a properly good castle, with amazing views as far as Poole Harbour, and if the weather was less than glorious it didn't really matter. We saw a steam train go past, and had a wander through the village which was very quaint, but suffered from heavy traffic thundering through the centre.
(Overheard on the street, a woman looking at the old houses: "How do they get the roofs to sag like that?")
The village also has an Enid Blyton shop (Corfe was supposedly the inspiration for Kirrin Castle), various potteries (mostly closed), a model village, and numerous gift shops (selling, amongst other things, tasteful (ahem) black and white sketches of Harry Styles. Clearly he's already a national treasure).
We had a late lunch in The Greyhound pub next to the castle, aquiel9 had a salt beef baguette and I had the Piggy Platter - a board with amazing fresh hot crackling (loads of it), pieces of roast pork, and a slice of pork and cider pie (also, a granary baguette and some salad, which I mostly ignored).
From Corfe, we headed for Lulworth Cove, which started off sunny but turned out to be incredibly windy up on the cliff. We gawped at the geology for a bit (concertinaed sedimentary rock strata, arches and blowholes and the like), then went back down for a very nice ice cream (blackcurrant and clotted cream) in the car park.
Last stop was Durdle Door (rock arch in the sea), which was a bit of a steep trek down and back, but worth the walk.
Too knackered to do much more than play cards this evening (sea air: bracing at the time, acts like a sedative as soon as you stop) and went to bed just after nine. And glad that I sat up to write this, because a fucking great spider just ran across the floor and I had to leap out of bed and beat it to death with a shoe.
Tuesday 11th Sept
Out for breakfast today, we went to the River Cottage Canteen in Axminster. Had coffee and sausage sandwiches, which were fabulous, proper fat bangers and homemade ketchup and amazing fresh crusty white bread. Very nice staff and a lovely place, relaxed and friendly and full of interesting things to look at (it's a deli as well).
Now I imagine you could haunt the canteen for days without seeing a sniff of anyone you recognised, but in a case of epic timing, just before we left who should walk in the door but a certain Gill Meller. Somebody hold me, I'm having a hot flush.
Next stop was Lyme Regis, where we bought entirely too many books to be comfortably carried around from the second hand bookshops (Biggles! Worralls! Gimlet Mops Up!) and perused the various fossil shops. Walked along the seafront and out along the cob harbour, before fetching up at Hix Oyster and Fish House at about 2pm, where they just squeezed us onto a table on the terrace (which then remained mostly empty the entire time we were there, but they did at least move us to a better table at the other end).
Very nice meal, if teeth-clenchingly expensive (£108 for two including tip). To start, I had wood pigeon on toast with sorrel (pink slices of bird on some sort of reduction of what was probably its innards, but was delicious) and aquiel9 had crab on toast. For mains, I had mackerel (two fish, very nicely done, with a shaved fennel salad that I donated to aquiel9, because eww, fennel) and aquiel9 had scallops and black pudding on a creamed corn sauce. For dessert I had seabuckthorn cheesecake (wanted to try seabuckthorn ever since they used it on River Cottage, and it was as good as I hoped, very sour and fruity) and aquiel9 had chocolate tart. Then aquiel9 had a coffee while I finished off the wine (very nice bottle of Pino Grigio).
Wandered back through the public gardens, and home for a chicken sandwich and the Great British Bake Off.
Wednesday 12th Sept
The now-traditional fry-up to start the day, and another wrestle with the tin opener, which is shite. It pierces the tin okay, but then refuses to turn, so I ended up having to puncture the tin repeatedly all the way round to get the beans out.
First stop Bridport, to mooch around the street market. Found a bookshop in an old chapel, where the books were all piled in the balcony stalls and the air was full of incense. Seeminlgy run by an odd old couple who might have been druids and might have been methodists, it's hard to tell.
Went on to Netherbury, to walk a loop down along the river and back through the village, to peer at the original River Cottage er, cottage, then drove on to Cerne Abbas. Climbed the hill around the giant, got caught in a brief rain squall, then headed down into the village for a pint in the Royal Oak.
(yes, that is a giant chalk cock)
Our final stop of the day was to have been a cafe in West Bay, but it turned out they stopped serving at 3pm, and we got there about ten minutes too late. By this time the rain was coming in horizontally off the sea, so we scuttled home and made spaghetti carbonara instead.
New River Cottage on tv tonight (it seems to have been that sort of week), featuring Gill flirting like a hussy with Robert Webb, then watched Dallas.
Thursday 13th Sept
Had a lazy morning around the cottage, then went back down to West Bay. Huge difference in the weather today, bright sunshine and an almost cloudless blue sky. We had lunch in the Watchhouse Cafe - I had a whole roasted Brill (which turned out to be the only one they had, which made it an interesting choice to be on a specials list, but yay me). It came with samphire (which sadly was the ropiest I've ever had, it was sharper than the fish bones) and garlic butter and new potatoes and salad. And a bottle of Orchard Pig Truffler cider. aquiel9 had the Dover sole with clams and brown shrimp.
We walked along the shingle beach afterwards, and back along the quay, before driving along the coast towards Weymouth, stopping to take pictures down over Chesil beach. We would have stopped at Abbotsbury and had a closer look, but the carpark was £4, so for the sake of a ten minute walk, we didn't bother.
Went on to Portland and after initially managing to navigate to the prison (seriously, some signs would have killed you?) we got up to the viewing point car park (free, Abbotsbury take note) for more photos the other way up Chesil Beach.
Wandered around the spooky old gun emplacement buildings and into the tunnels, then drove on to the end and the Portland Bill lighthouse, where we watched the ships on the horizon (two grey battleships and a three-masted pirate ship) and had a cream tea on the world's slopiest picnic table.
Back in Chideock, we went out to The George for the evening, where it was their wood-fired oven pizza night. The place was packed, and we had to wait 20 minutes for a table (although found a bench to perch on in the meantime). The pizzas were lovely, although possibly due to how busy it was, the bowl of chips never arrived. I had chorizo (home-made), beetroot and mozzarella on mine and it was delicious (aquiel9 had the same but with ham instead of beetroot.
Friday 14th Sept
Walked down from Chideock to the coast at Seatown for lunch at The Anchor Inn. We sat outside and had fish and chips in local beer batter & ham, egg and chips, with a pint to fortify us before venturing up Golden Cap.
This hill is apparently the highest point on the whole of the south coast and it was quite a trek to the top, but the views were worth it once we got there. Intended to take a different footpath back to the village, but missed a fork somewhere, and ended up back in Seatown, which meant we were forced to have another pint before walking back up the hill.
View from the pub
Golden Cap - from sea level
From the top looking east
And looking west
Had a look in the church next to the cottage, and the little chapel next to it, whose celings were covered in frescoes.
Went out for dinner back to The George, this time having the foresight to have booked a table, although this did mean we ended up stuck out in the restaurant part, which was a bit less cosy. aquiel9 had steak, and I had venison, which tasted lovely, but was sadly way overcooked from the medium that I'd ordered. Should have ballsed it out and gone for rare, then it might at least have been vaguely juicy...
Home to pack, hard to believe this will be the last night, the week's gone stupidly quickly.
Saturday 15th Sept
Came back via Castle Drogo in Devon, on Dartmoor. Beautiful formal gardens (including huge croquet lawn hidden in a massive yew hedge) and impressive house (although it did feel you only got to see a tiny percentage of the rooms there must be). Both decided we need to be stinkingly rich, so we can live somewhere similar, and employ a battalion of devastatingly attractive staff.