Beach huts in Greenhill Gardens, Weymouth

Today's optional excursion was to Salisbury, Wiltshire, famous for its cathedral, and an unfortunate incident involving poisoning by Novichok in 2018. As I lived in Salisbury for a couple of months in 1993, I was keen to revisit the city and see the sights afresh.

We set off by coach after breakfast, and arrived at about 11.30, which left us about three hours exploring time. One of our little gang (we'd bonded over dinner and breakfast) is Indian and wants to learn about everything British, so I was very pleased to find a row of traditional almshouses very close to where we'd been dropped off. We continued down Castle Street, which I recognised as being one of the places where I lodged in 1993. Off the main square, we found a shopping centre, and accidentally lost Sh, the Indian lady, when she went to take a phone call. (It later transpired she'd stepped into TK Maxx).

As we couldn't find her, we carried on to a coffee shop, and the cathedral. Decided not to go in because there was a mandatory entrance fee of 10 pounds (same as at the Salisbury museum) and I'd been there before. A bit more small-scale shopping, a bit of wandering around the cloisters and admiring spring blossom around the Cathedral Close), and then it was time to walk back to the coach. (My companion, E, walks slowly-ish, has little sense of direction and therefore panics about how to get back to the meeting point. There must be something of the tour leader about me: I attract such people, and then have to keep reassuring them that I do actually know where I am going and that we will be back on time). We arrived back with plenty of time to spare, going via Tesco's and Poundland, where E bought me an Easter egg and I got a hideous gold-bunny ornament for GG.

On our return to Weymouth, I went for a walk along the beach, away from town, and discovered the well-kept Greenhill municipal gardens, complete with early 20th century architectural features, and notices advertising future community events, including a Coronation picnic in May. The road behind the gardens also has some original 1930s houses / villas. I enjoyed my unhurried circular stroll around this end of Weymouth, and returned refreshed and appreciative of the evening light. As the clocks had only just advanced for British Summer Time, there was suddenly a lot more later light. I love it!