Rich is one of my oldest friends, we’ve known each other for well over 50 years and cycle together about once a week. He joined me for a couple of legs when I cycled from John O’Groats to Land’s End in 2021 and asked if he could come along this year. Originally, he was going to join me for the Exeter- Dorchester leg but, as it turns out fortuitously for him, given the atrocious weather, he changed to today’s leg from Dorchester to Southampton.
I pitched up at his house in Dorchester at about 5pm to be met by his wife Lynne and immediately sent upstairs for a shower and change of clothes. I brought all my soggy kit down and stuck it in the washing machine and thence to the Dyson airer that got everything dry and toasty warm by the morning. Rich and I wandered into town for a couple of pints of Butcombe at the King’s Arms which was somewhat chaotic, with dirty glasses stacked all over the bar and a couple of barmaids who weren’t keeping up with demand. Anyway, we got our drinks eventually and went back to the house for a delicious supper. I composed the blog while Rich and Lynne watched TV and so to bed.
This morning, I was awoken by what sounded like someone having a shower but was, in fact, a huge rainstorm – not a good augury. After breakfast of cereals and toast, we set off, after Rich faffed about changing the battery in his remote control, and hit the road just after 9am. The skies were dark as we cycled out of town past Max Gate, home of author Thomas Hardy, through West Stafford, meeting a huge fleet of Silage trailers waiting to harvest maize and onwards to Crossways. We turned down through a housing estate in Crossways which had some rather grand pillars with a sign saying slow down for hedgehogs – ironically there was a flat one in the middle of the road.
The route was pan flat, a pleasant change from what I had been experiencing up to now; but the weather deteriorated to a heavy shower about 8 miles in which had us sheltering under a tree whilst we donned rain-jackets. The weather cleared for a while and then the rain came pouring down again whilst we were out in the open, with no sign of shelter. We trudged on hoping for the best which came to pass as the storms disappeared and we were left with ideal cycling conditions through Corfe Castle. The ruins of which guard the entrance to the Isle of Purbeck. The castle was owned by the Bankes family who sided with the King in the Civil War. The parliamentarians besieged it twice, the first time unsuccessfully, but Lady Mary Bankes whose husband was away with King Charles in Oxford, eventually surrendered the castle in 1645 and it was slighted (demolished) by Cromwell’s forces, leaving what we see today, now owned and managed by the National Trust
We were heading for Swanage as the sun peeped through. Nearly seventy years have passed since I was at school in Langton Matravers, and we passed close by that village on our way from Harmon’s Cross to the popular tourist town of Swanage. The sea was fairly calm and there were hardy souls swimming as the sun peeped through.
From Swanage we climbed up Uwell road, causing a short blip of motor for me but Rich managed to get through the entire trip without using his. Over the top we dropped down to Studland Village, past the unseen Old Harry Rocks, chalk stacks that are now much eroded and will eventually disappear
and the Knoll House hotel where we took lunch and tea on our school exeats
The Studland Peninsula has excellent sandy beaches, including one favoured by Naturists and inland is an area of heathland and acidic lakes that is a site of special scientific interest. On the end of Studland point a chain ferry runs across the narrows of Poole Harbour to Sandbanks. We stopped for a cup of tea at the Shell Bay restaurant before boarding the ferry which took us across for the magnificent sum of £1 a head.
We cycled through Sandbanks, once said to be the most valuable real estate in Britain, before taking to the promenade which runs for seven miles past Canford Cliffs and Branksome Chine, Bournemouth pier, Boscombe and Southbourne beaches until it runs out at Christchurch forcing us inland to cope, once again, with traffic.
During the journey along the prom, my brakes were squeaking and when I stopped to investigate it was clear that Devon and Cornwall had worn them out. I stuck a new set of pads in the back brakes which helped but the sand we were picking up as we cycled along caused the front wheel to seize up, so I had to stop and replace the front pads as well. I had to do a lot of fettling before I ended up with a rideable bike and it wasted the best part of an hour. Finally, all was well as we cycled through Christchurch and joined the busy A35, mercifully with a decent wide shoulder to keep us away from the fast-moving traffic.
We branched off onto the A337 following, but out of sight of, the coast at Highcliffe, New Milton and Milford-on-Sea where my paternal grandmother lived for many years, so it is an area of which I have fond memories. We once again saw the sea as we crossed the river in Lymington, a chocolate box town with a busy harbour and home to what is said to be the most expensive ferry crossing in the world, for the distance travelled, to the Isle of Wight. We arrived as the gates on the railway crossing were rising so sped on across a cattle grid into the New Forest National Park, famous for its ponies which roam unfettered.
The road runs straight and true across the heathland which is a bit disheartening as it seems to go on longer than the five miles to Beaulieu, home of the National Motor Museum, founded in 1952 by Edward, Lord Montagu, owner of Beaulieu Palace. It has grown from a collection of 5 cars to a purpose-built museum with over 300 exhibits, a monorail running through the middle of the main building. It’s many years since I last visited it, and it certainly warrants another trip.
At Dibden Purlieu we joined a cycle track that took us either offroad or on pavements all the way into Southampton. On the way we crossed Eling Mill Pond, home to one of the oldest tide mills in the country. It is currently being refurbished but will soon be back to grinding flour.
We were now cycling along the A33 but on a well-marked off road path. The only problem came when we needed to cross the busy dual carriageway to make our way to the town centre, requiring us to double back on ourselves. It was a nail-biting crossing but, once over we were on back streets or paths through the Park before arriving at Leonardo Hotel at about 1815hrs.
It was a very different day to the one’s I’ve been experiencing and nice not to have to do so much climbing. Tomorrow will be similar, but tonight our bikes are in a store, and we have a good-sized room on the 6th floor. We part company as Rich cycles home and I continue east along the coast.
