Poole, Dorset

Around nine-thirty last night as Angela took a walk around the campsite, she could hear the thudding of hoofs as the last of the ponies charged for the cover of the trees. This was our last evening with the ponies of the new forest, and we felt a little sad. We'd miss them. 

This morning we moved Marge a little way along the road to a parking area on the edge of Brockenhurst village, saddled up and for the third time in four days cycled through the forest to Lyndhurst, where we were entertained whilst we lunched in a garden area by the car park by a group of ladies from a nearby coach. 'Have you been?'' 'Mary's been'.  A desperate man tugged at one of the locked toilet doors. On the emergence of the lady occupant 'You nearly had company in there'. You really had to be there to appreciate the humour of the situation. 

Before leaving the town, viewed a house from the outside and registered our interest for properties in the area with a local estate agent. Well why not? Early evening, we headed back to Poole, treating ourselves to a Chinese takeaway which we ate at the osprey viewpoint at Ham Common, Hamworthy. We both agreed it was the best view across Poole Harbour.  But it wasn't the new forest.