The toe test

Happy Easter to all who celebrate!

It’s our last night in Dorset, on a farm in Upton, near Dorchester. We have a bijou little holiday cottage which I am thoroughly enjoying ( usually my
holiday rental cottages come complete with a dark brown carpet, a broken oven and and an air of general low-seasonitis, so this makes a welcome change). We have been extraordinarily lazy over the past few days, but I hope to back blip. Watch this space…

Steve has been Not Very Well all weekend: heavy cold, thick head, and general malaise. He seems to be getting worse, instead of better, which is a shame. We woke to bright sunlight streaming in. I quickly got out another small jigsaw and started sorting pieces while listening to some seasonal music. Then the sun disappeared, and I cooked breakfast, for a treat, before heading off to walk to the beach.

The footpath took me up a near-vertical hill, but I was then rewarded with a walk through woodlands down a dry stream-bed. A river appeared at one point, and bluebells (‘the wrong sort’) grew in abundance. Paths crisscrossed each other as we grew nearer to the shore, and eventually I found myself walking along a road between high hedges. I plunged down a little path with a rope hand rail, and came at last to the beach. The skies were grey, but families were enjoying themselves scampering around on rocks, paddling, kayaking and so on. I walked to the part of the beach near the car park and cafe, where I stopped to inspect a caravan park. It seemed more like a high security jail, with cameras and warning signs everywhere, but please don’t tell the inmates ….

Walked back via the road (long) and arrived at the cottage about two hours after leaving. Steve had retired to bed, but I persuaded him to watch Goodnight Mister Tom with me (sweet little film
about a WWII evacuee and a grumpy old man ), and then we watched Gareth Malone’s Messiah concert while we cooked supper, then we had our meal, and so on…

Sadly, we have to leave tomorrow. I hope we can return some time.