South West Trains have a special offer on - you can go anywhere on their routes as far as Weymouth for just £10 return - normal price £77 return. Not only that, you you are not restricted to any particular train, so don't have the problem of deciding beforehand when you want to travel.
I caught the earliest practical train - the 6.30 a.m. one from Waterloo, which meant a very early start, but was worth it. The journey was not quite as straightforward as it could have been, as planned engineering work on the line between Southampton and Bournemouth meant that there were buses covering that part of the route. But the buses were waiting on arrival at Southampton Airport, and were non-stop to Bournemouth, where we rejoined the train to Weymouth.
I wanted to go to Bridport, famous for its poetry competitions, and had already checked that there was a bus from the King's Statue on the front. I had some time to spare so i went and had a late breakfast in a nearby cafe - not one which I would now recommend.
The journey to Bridport was lovely, along little country roads, some running alongside streams, and all so English. The land was a bit wet, but there was none of the massive floods that they have had in the West Country.
Bridport itself isn't very big, but it has lots of character. There is a market, selling a large variety of things from fresh food to bric-a-brac, which packs up about 2 o'clock, lots of interesting little shops, and the Bridport Arts Centre which sponsors the annual poetry competition. The Arts Centre is something every town should have. Housed in what was probably a former house, it seems to have a constant stream of events - concerts, plays, talks, lectures, exercise classes, language classes, music classes - there seemed from the notice board to be something interesting happening every day. And they also have a nice cafe at the back, which is open to everyone, not just users of the Centre.
The church, though was a bit of a disappointment. St. Mary's Bridport, although part of it dates back to the thirteenth century, and outside looks quite old, gives the impression inside of being very modern - perhaps due to the refurbishment which took place after a fire in 1996 and subsequent improvements, including flexible seating. It just doesn't have the feel of an old church. I also got the impression that they were a bit trendy. But there is a lot going on there, with various clubs and organisations.
I noticed in the local paper that terrible storms were expected on Saturday, so decided to get the bus back to Weymouth earlier than I had originally intended - I had visions of some of the streams beside the road overflowing and blacking the road, as they were already at virtually the same level. So I was back in Weymouth by about 5 p.m., and decided to have dinner there before catching the train. I found a really lovely little cafe called Jack's Cafe in Great George Street - the food was well cooked, just as I asked for, the portions were exactly the right size and everything was delicious. If I'm ever in Weymouth again, it's definitely the place I will be eating.
I got the train back to Bournemouth, and everything was fine; the threatened storm didn't seem to have arrived, and there was no real wind. It was only when the bus arrived at Southampton that I - any everybody else - learned differently. There had been a localised storm, which had brought down trees, completely blocking the railway line. Sot there we all were, stuck at Southampton Station, with no-one really knowing what was happening. The station staff were very good, trying to keep us informed, but were a bit in the dark themselves. Some people started getting rather annoyed, but really there was nothing the staff could do until they found out what lines were blocked. I wasn't bothered, as it was still quite early in the evening, and anyway, I knew that they would get us back to London somehow.
Eventually, they announced that there would be buses to Basingstoke, where we could pick up another train to Waterloo. I shared a seat with a girl who came down at weekends to Bournemouth to play beach volleyball at an indoor pitch at a school there, who told me that they were setting up pitches in parks all over London following the popularity of beach volleyball at the Olympics - until then I hadn't known anything about that. So it was quite an interesting journey.
I finally got home about a quarter past eleven, feeling decidedly tired, having up on the go since before 5.00 a.m. But it had been a really nice day out, despite the long and disjointed journey back.
No comments:
Post a Comment