Stratford-upon-Avon

It was lunchtime before we set off from Poole.

Our neighbour asked how long we'd be away. We explained it depended on the weather, circumstance and Marge. Our visit to Scotland last September left us wanting more, so we are returning this time to revisit some favourite places and to discover some new ones. And we hope you'll all come along too.

Late afternoon we arrived at Stratford upon Avon, the birthplace of William Shakespeare. Our home for the night ten minutes' walk from the town at Stratford Greenway, a five-mile cycle route along the old Honeybourne line.

All day parking here is just £3, and a barrier secures the area overnight. Marge is settled here alongside a van from Wales, whose owners are from Merseyside. The man's step mother lives just along the road from John's daughter Dawn, who we will be visiting on Saturday morning. Small world.

The short walk alongside the river Avon in to the town was beautiful. Plums grew wild and John couldn't resist picking a few. At the lock we watched as a narrow boat slowly rose in the bubbling water. The swans hungry for food caught our attention, and across the river a squadron of them paddled frantically between two people keen to feed them.

The town was quiet, unnaturally quiet for such a tourist hotspot. We sat by the colourful narrowboats a while before walking over to Shakespeare's statue. Then tired, returned to Marge, passing by the RSC (Royal Shakespeare Company) where a small crowd were gathering to watch an evening outdoor performance in the garden theatre.

Tomorrow we hope to cycle along the greenway before heading off further north.

Poole

Yesterday evening we walked to the lighthouse at Portland Bill to watch the sunset. An oil painting of purple, pink, orange and grey hung above the blue-black inky sea.

This morning rested from a peaceful night's sleep we marvelled at the view. the sea topped with white, a little livelier than yesterday and a bright blue sky with a whisper of white. Soldiers exercised on the nearby grass area and walkers slowly started to appear.

As we left Portland we decided to stop once again at the car park on the causeway and take a walk on Chesil Beach, a shingle spit stretching eighteen miles across to Abbotsbury.

The stones shifted under our feet as we climbed to the top where we sat and took in the view. Then a drink and sorbet in the cafe before heading home to Poole.

Keen to make the most of our trip we decided to call in at Swanage on the way as it would be our last chance before the town became overrun with holiday makers.

This year eight campervan spaces have been allocated in the main car park, all of which were full so, we parked in another bay and ate lunch and soon one van left. For some reason parking is for daytime only, no overnight sleeping. It is becoming increasingly annoying that some councils cannot see the advantage of allowing the vans to stay overnight. We know local shopkeepers and owners of food outlets want them there. There is a parking area on the seafront for about six vans from 8 pm until 8 am. But although tempted we had reason to return home. So, we made the most of our afternoon visiting some second hand shops and galleries. Then Angela fell over again, her right knee the casualty this time.

Back in Poole, Marge pulled on to her new driveway and was greeted by one of our neighbours keen to take a look inside her and hear about our trip. After unpacking the van quickly, we walked in to town for a meal, then strolled back through the old town busy with diners sat outside the many restaurants. Since we left a week ago the town had sprung in to life, and it felt good.

Next week we will return to Buckinghamshire, and hopefully marge will come with us.

Oh and our new mirror, the main reason for our trip survived the journey home in one piece!

Portland

Seaton had proved to be a good move, and the night passed without any problems. This morning the seafront slowly came alive. In the sea a group of early morning swimmers barely broke the smooth glassy sea water. On the nearby headlands vegetation lit by the morning sun clung above the rocky outcrop below. As we breakfasted in Marge the esplanade came alive quietly and sedately. Everyone was friendly. Our faith in humans had been restored, thank goodness.

The grotto mirror safely tucked up in our bed, we fired up Marge and began the short drive to Lyme Regis where it turned out there was no room for Marge. The car park was full and chaotic, so we promptly left and moved on to Charmouth busy and chaotic as well. Fortunately an overflow car park on a grassed area was relatively quiet and empty so we settled Marge there.

Next to us a couple produced a cold box and served themselves up plates of cold cuts, cheese, cheese biscuits and lemon mouse. Then tea with marvel. We didn't even know you could still buy marvel. After that the straps were dropped on the ladies top ready for an afternoon sunbathe by the car. Did this sum up retirement? We hoped not.

Charmouth beach was busy. In the last few days, we've seen an increase in holiday makers and wondered just how many of them would normally be abroad. We walked to the far end of the beach averting our eyes from bodies squeezed in to too small bikinis on people who thought they were on a beach in Spain. We were tempted to say, this is the costa del Dorset love, we don't let it all hang out here. Charmouth is renowned for cliff falls, and we climbed (never learn do we) over some fallen scree and rocks looking for fossils, but to no avail. The area seemed to have been picked clean.

Car parking time up we strolled back to Marge the straps were still down but the lady now had a blanket over her legs. there's nowt so strange as, well you know. She reminded Angela of one of those ladies you see on a humorous seaside postcard. After hearing the lady's opinion on covid, immunisation, insurance claims, holidays etc we prised ourselves away. The weather was beautiful and we'd enjoyed our time at Charmouth and the stunning views along the coast back to Lyme Regis and Weymouth.

We were going to head back to Poole, but the weather was so lovely we diverted to Portland stopping in a large car park by the causeway behind Chesil Beach. But after a while it became obvious it might not be a good idea to stay as the other vans began to leave, so a quick look on the internet found the Pulpit Inn over near the lighthouse.

£10 a night on the grass area beside the pub with views towards the lighthouse and out to sea. We had a drink sat outside the pub and talked to a lady with a micro camper the same size as our Citroen Berlingo car. We've been thinking of making a unit that converts our car in to a micro camper for some time just for the fun of it. Love Marge as we do, sometimes her size can make places we'd like to visit inaccessible, this way we'd have the best of both worlds.

Rib eye steaks cooked on our outdoor grill whilst enjoying a beautiful view in a safe area, our faith in van life has been restored.

Seaton

After breakfast this morning we walked out with Trudy & Andrew and their dogs to Kennall Vale, a beautiful woodland with remnants of it's industrial past as a gunpowder factory.

En-route as we walked through the village, we admired the colourful flowers scrambling over stone walls. There was something to admire at every turn.

At lunchtime we bid our farewells and headed into nearby Penryn where we stopped to lunch by the harbour. The tide was out, and boats sat on the mud flats in a state of collapse, waiting to be righted on the incoming tide. In the shallows a lone swan dived into the weed taking advantage of the low tide to feed. lunch eaten we drove to a nearby industrial estate to collect our grotto mirror from Creams warehouse.

The mirror seemed a lot larger than we remembered and to keep it safe for the journey we secured it across our bed. The drive from Penryn to Exmouth was long and tedious. We'd decided on this visit to

Exmouth to stay on the seafront, cost £11.00.

Mistake. After we'd showered, eaten our evening meal and taken a short walk we were displeased to see some young girls parked right next to us in their car playing music loudly. After a few words were

exchanged we decided it best to move on. Time now 9.15 pm, too late to drive to Poole, so we re-routed to Seaton where we are now spending the night.

As soon as we arrived some young men in vans admired Marge. She just an't help herself! They've gone now, but assured us we'd be O.K. here. So, here's hoping. It certainly seems very quiet at the moment. According to Google, the population of Seaton as a whole is older than the Cumbrian average (odd statistic!!!), and older than the national average.hopefully tomorrow morning the view we have now of the headland in the darkness peppered with a few lights will be fantastic in the morning.

Mean while, the logistics of the grotto mirror have to be addressed so we can go to bed!