Osmington Mills

Last night passed without incident. We were cosy in Wee Margie. However, this morning we were awoken at 6 am by crying children and frustrated parents. Oh joy! We don't very often stay at campsites and had forgotten just how noisy they could be. Our neighbours weren't very friendly, which they should have been after making some noise quite late last night upon their return from the pub. Is that Julie Walters? Who Wee Margie? That woman next door with long red hair walking with one of those sticks that doesn't touch the ground. She certainly looked like Julie Walters in character, and yes, her walking stick was gliding.

After a walk around the adjacent field for John to pick yet more mushrooms, we decided to drive into Swanage for a walk. There was a food/craft/music event on the seafront and the town was busy.

But we could visit Swanage anytime, and left after a short while heading to tonight's stop the Rosewall campsite at Osmington Mills.

When John was a young boy, he used to holiday here in a static caravan with his parents and as we headed down to the site his face was beaming. As usual the lady owner remembered John's father from all those years ago.

Cheese bought back from France for lunch eaten, we chatted to a couple who were walking the south west coast path. The lady had just retired and this was one of her bucket lists must do's. In around fifty days' time they should reach Minehead. We exchanged stories of adventures done and others to do. There's life in us oldies yet and we were raring to get on with it.

We will stay two nights here at Osmington Mills, before moving along the Dorset coast. This slow pace suits us and Wee Margie whose been a little under the weather these past few weeks. 

Some Three Cornered Leek growing in the village, John was lucky enough to find some proper Wild Garlic and Rosemary to add to his mushroom omelette tomorrow morning.