Norden, nr: Corfe

Last night, what a night, the van was a rockin', the rain ran off Marge like teardrops and the church bells tolled every fifteen minutes in the darkness. All a little bit scary, but we'd experienced worse when we spent a night in a small tent on a cliff top in Spain, whilst cycle camping six years ago.

The terrors of the night gave way to a calm morning which dawned bright. We waited and waited for Trudy and Andrew to bring the bacon baps, but they didn't arrive. So, it was back to omelette and cereal. But we were happy, we were in a beautiful spot and all was good. There's a saying, 'if you don't get out of bed smiling, then try another life'.

After breakfast we walked down to Lulworth Cove. A few lines on the side of a building caught our attention.

After many years of visiting this natural world heritage site we were a little taken aback that it had been transformed in to yet another site of cafe culture. The once shack of a cafe had gone, and the steps where a local hippy used to sit and paint pebbles and shells from the beach, replaced by a slick new structure selling paninis and coffee. Walking boots had been exchanged for flip flops. Totally inappropriate footwear for climbing the cliff paths. Ignoring the change, we walked along the beach fossil hunting, handing the few we found to a family whose search had been to no avail.

Then a walk up to stair hole, before succumbing to 21st century tourism and buying ice creams at how much!!

Back at Marge, we stepped inside the Holy Trinity Church. Built in Norman times the church was peaceful and enjoyed views across the countryside to the sea.

Lunch eaten we left the picturesque village of West Lulworth heading for Swanage. We had not travelled far, when John's daughter Dawn telephoned to say that our granddaughter Cath had landed an internship scriptwriting for a major festival (Writing On The Wall) in Liverpool. Fantastic news, we were very pleased, but not half as pleased and proud as her mother was.

Swanage was quiet, too quiet for a day in May. We took a walk to the Old Forge Antiques Shop as we always do when in the area to see what mid-century furniture they had in, passing on the way the engine sheds of the Swanage steam railway, where we stopped for a while to watch a man cleaning out a boiler on one of the steam trains.

Late this afternoon we were once again back at The Halfway Inn near Corfe, as tomorrow we are meeting Angela's son, his wife and our youngest grandson in Poole, with fingers crossed for good weather so our grandson Elliot can put his new bucket and spade to good use. Early this evening we sat out for a while in the pub garden with a few other brave souls, including a young couple in their twenties. The young lady had ripped jeans on, so badly ripped on one leg they were basically very short shorts. She had even longer legs, than our Marge. Breed them tough down here in Dorset we thought, as we sat in multiple layers and scarfs.

West Lulworth

A nice surprise this morning. When we opened Marge's blinds our friends Trudy and Andrew were parked in front of us. They'd come over to Falmouth to walk their dogs and treat us to breakfast. A very nice breakfast it was as well, hot drinks and bacon and egg/mushroom baps from the cafe at Gyllyngvase beach. We hurriedly re-arranged Marge, making room for us all to sit inside (window and door open for ventilation), and chatted contently. what a great start to our last morning. Thank you, Trudy and Andrew. Our treat next time.

Just before noon, it was time to point Marge eastwards and set off on our return journey. We'd enjoyed our time in Cornwall made all the more enjoyable for seeing our friends. A quick stop at Tesco in Truro for a few groceries and five 5 litre containers of water to top up Marge's tank.

We were heading towards Bridport which we'd planned as our overnight stop. Arriving there around 4.30 pm we both didn't feel happy about staying so we moved on to Weymouth. The journey to Bridport had been a little challenging. Marge had been fine, excelling herself, but the wind was strong, gusting across the dual carriageways challenging Angela who had to keep Marge, who is three metres tall from not getting caught unawares by the wind. Weymouth was a no go as well. last night it was reported that fifteen vans stayed overnight at the pier car park, this evening just a few, and the occupants of the two we spoke to were not staying, so we took a look at the park4night app and found a stop at West Lulworth by the church, which is where we park the car when we visit Lulworth Cove. So that's where we are now after travelling through three counties. The wind is very strong, reportedly gusting at 60 mph. Marge is shaking, we are shaking! Thank God we are not on the campsite up on the cliff top at nearby Durdle Door. Who would believe that yesterday was shorts weather and today winter coats? It is undoubtably going to be a noisy night, with the wind set to continue through tomorrow despite the return of the sunshine. Roll on Wednesday when the weather will settle.

Falmouth (Day 3)

This morning John opened the sliding roof above our bed, the sun bathed us in the new light of the day.

Whilst we ate a late breakfast a collection of families jogged by, the children easily out pacing the adults amongst a tangle of dog leads.

We decided to stay local today walking down to the town past the dockyard where a few naval vessels were berthed. The town was alive with visitors, but the usual hustle and bustle of a bank holiday weekend was missing.

We'd promised ourselves fish and chips for lunch, and after walking the length of the town stopped to eat them at the Prince of Wales pier, where the passenger ferries arrive from nearby Flushing and St. Mawes. A gull shuffled back and forth as we ate, not canny enough to catch us unawares. The sun played hide and seek, and a cool wind blew.

Nearby a busker softly played classical Spanish music on his guitar. We were enjoying the mellow sound so much we stayed for a while to listen, showing our appreciation before we left.

In Church Street we stopped to take a look in a shop called Cream, which specialised in homewares replicating Cornwall's coastal heritage. We saw many items that we thought would look good in our new home, especially a large and very expensive mirror!

As we left the town, we took a look at the Killigrew monument erected in 1738.

Just along the road from the monument a gull had built its nest on the sloping roof of a terraced house. It seemed more than happy, but we weren't so sure about the location. By the time we'd returned to Marge the sun was hot and we rested for a while before walking once again to Pendennis point, where we sat admiring the view and enjoying a video call with the family who we will meet in Poole on Wednesday.

A further walk around the point took us by an old ruin which looked across the mouth of the river Fal towards the castle at St. Mawes.

Back at the van, our faces burning from the warm afternoon sun, we loosely planned the next few days. Poole Wednesday, but before that we were not decided yet. As the saying goes, ' tell god your plans and he will laugh at you, because he knows you are unlikely to stick to them!'.

Falmouth (Day 3)

Late morning we left marge in the company of the few vans staying another night, and walked the mile to Gyllyngvase beach where we met with our friends Trudy and Andrew who live nearby. The bright blue sky smudged by a few clouds of cotton hung above a clear turquoise sea.

We had not seen our friends for well over a year so we had plenty to talk about as we sat at a picnic table on the beach. After a couple of hot drinks, we moved into the nearby park where it was less crowded and ate the delicious pasties that Andrew had made for our lunch. After much catching up we returned to the beach for an ice cream. The afternoon passed by quickly and before we knew it, it was time to say our farewells.

As we walked back along the seafront past the infamous 42 steps, we stopped to look around Gyllyngdune gardens opened in 1907.

A little bit of the exotic mixed with shell seating areas and a shell cave which houses unusual shells thought to have arrived on ships from the west indies on which they were used as ballast.

Back at Marge, who bathed in the early evening sunshine we reflected on the day. After a shower and spag bol, we took a walk out just before nine o' clock to view the last of the sunset over Falmouth, which outlined the billowing clouds that darkened in the fading light.

Across the water the St. Anthony's lighthouse on the eastern side of Falmouth harbour flashed its warning.

We are enjoying our time here and will probably stay another day.

Falmouth

We were awoken this morning by the voices of the birds. John found a felled tree in the morning sun, where he sat in the idyllic surroundings beside the tumbling waters of the river. Nearby, a cat black as ebony, picked its way silently through the long grass.

On the ground John discovered a large blister or oil beetle, quite a rare insect now unfortunately, of the eight species in the UK three are already extinct. To get a better shot Angela was tasked with the job of holding out a stick with the beatles on it for a photograph.

All well and good until it moved. Near to Marge, wild garlic grew, and John picked some to add to his morning omelette.

Housework done, and waste water emptied we fired up Marge.

At the farm gate, a group of lambs in a pen jostled to bid us farewell.

Our destination, and possible stopover was Pendower Beach in the heart of the Roseland peninsula. We arrived just after midday. quickly parked up Marge and set off to explore this area of outstanding natural beauty.

The sun lit the headland, and the puffed-up clouds billowing in the sky cast shadows over the beach. We skimmed some flat shiny grey stones, smoothed by the movement of the sea, across the flat water.

Then walked across the rocks, laid bare by the low tide, looking in to rock pools and crevices.

Above us we could see Marge parked precariously. No funny business Marge please, it's a long drop down! By the time we returned to have our lunch the sun was high in the sky lighting the sea and coastline. We could see right across the bay to Portscatho. We had the best seat in the house. Before leaving, John picked some 'wild' spring onions growing in front of Marge (not sure who had planted those) for us to add to our stir fry this evening.

Deciding to stay overnight in Falmouth we journeyed past St. Austell passing the 'Cornish Alps', also known as the china clay spoil tips. The road was fast and uphill, poor old Marge she was really put to the test today. Now she is glad to be parked in the car park of Pendennis Castle, with a few buddies. She has a glimpse of a sea view through the hedgerow.

Leaving her to rest, we walked to Pendennis Point where we sat and watched some men fishing for mackerel whilst we took in the view towards St. Mawes and along the coast. Taking the 'Gold Path' back to the van through the wooded area, we were surprised how many bluebells were still in flower. The path ended right by the entrance to the castle, the last few feet being almost vertical, and hard to navigate. Now we knew how Marge felt.

If it is quiet here tonight, we may stay again tomorrow, as being a bank holiday weekend the roads will probably be busy around these parts and we would quite like an easier day ourselves, something we know Marge would agree with.