"I do like to be beside the seaside"

We went down to the seashore this morning.

There are all sorts of seasides. The lad with the football probably thinks this is the best.
















But from a viewpoint just behind him the same seashore is a rambler's paradise.















And looking at it a different way, sailors probably have their own picture in mind when someone says "seaside".

But in truth it just happens to be the same piece of Poole harbour; a panorama that shows why it is the largest natural harbour in Europe and why it is so many things to so many people. If for example you are a golfer, the beautiful Isle of Purbeck Golf course is on those hills you can see in the background.

If you are more active you can turn around and discover many views of what a seaside is from Rockley Park.












Then again, perhaps it can get a bit rough for us poor old people.








Perhaps we'll just get on our bikes and go down to the Quay!

"In grateful memory . . . "

Shapwick is about 6 miles as the crow flies from Pimperne: both are in rural Dorset. You could walk it in just over two hours, which is what people were obliged to do at one time. 

Shapwick’s population in 1800 was 409: now below 200. The village is on the River Stour. Until flood defences were built, flooding in the village was a permanent problem. The village was there long before William the Conqueror came to Britain in 1066.

Pennel Kerley from Pimperne in Dorset married Elizabeth Down in Shapwick 11 September 1794. He was 25 she was 21. They lived and died in Shapwick, Pennel on the 5th March 1857 aged 88, Elizabeth two years later on 27 December 1859; she was 86.

In March 1796 their daughter Susanna was born. At the age of 20 she married 26 year old Robert Frampton in Shapwick. He was a carpenter. Their children were Henry Emmanuel, Fanny, Phineas, Susan and George. We know that Framptons had lived in Shapwick since 1675; doubtless for many years before.

Over the years, through marriage, a Kerley became a Frampton, Barfoot, Downe, Mitchell, Masterman, Cuff, Bennett, Short: all within Shapwick. Generation upon generation of bachelors, spinsters, widows, widowers and children, many of whom died young. They would have become as one extended family.

 This their church, St Batholomews, was the focus of many of their comings, joining togethers and goings  

 Their work was as labourers, shepherds, carpenters, cordwainers, servants, wheelers, yeomen, husbandmen, innkeepers.  They died of Scarlet Fever, “a fall from a waggon”, Typhus Fever, “run over by a waggon”, “killed on the spot by a fall from a horse”, “son of Andrew and Emma Kerley died at birth unbaptized”. 

Until, 1914: the start of the Great War.

Added to the base of a medieval cross is the Shapwick War memorial which lists the 43 names of Shapwick men who served during the war. Eleven are Kerleys.  Seven did not return, one of whom was a Kerley.

I was admiring some new thatch on the roof of a cottage not far from the cross.

"They don't spend much on the inside" said the elderley lady occupant. If we weren't protected 'they' would have had us out by now. Get a fortune for it"

"Village is not what it was: no homes for the villagers as used to be. People were born here, lived here all their lives. Now we have places used for holidays by people who don't live here or come from here".

It is a changed and changing world. But, for the elderly lady busy weeding her immaculate garden, and her husband with whom we exchanged a few words, I felt that in this very quiet and pastoral corner of England, the names on the war memorial had achieved something of great importance: the present and future for at least one couple had been safeguarded.

River Stour at White Mill near Shapwick.

fun and games

What are we doing in the winter at the seaside?
A host of things that are easier to get at when summer visitors are yet to make up their minds where to holiday.

If you like walking or simply looking, what about this?
High up in the Purbeck Hills looking north towards Poole with much of this land all yours courtesy of The National trust.

Add caption

Or, if you fancy something more energetic, a step away with this view from the clubhouse lies The Isle of Purbeck Golf Club, open to the public to play or just wine and dine.







To be fair the ground is never flat, but you can hire a buggy and you couldn't get a much more picturesque ride than this.





If you prefer a golf course with fewer but possibly more frightening obstacles, you could always move on down the hill to Swanage and try this.






And, you have to go no further than next door for the main Swanage mode of refreshment while the others amuse themselves in London!















And then take two steps across the road to a gloriously sandy beach like this, with part of the cliffs of the Jurassic coastline beyond. If you are really fit you can walk along the footpath that extends right along the coast.







Surrounded by glorious Dorset countryside, Swanage is one of those lovely old-fashioned seaside resorts where it is still possible to discover the type of shops you thought had disappeared years ago.



Just look at this selection of "take home a souvenir for Grandma" treasure which fills this shop window and makes the day a more colourful and brighter place.

And if it is a souvenir to remind you what a great time you spent here, you can always have your picture taken with one of the locals!

a bit more of Dorset all sorts

"Never seen rain like this" down here in Dorset.
You can see for yourself it's pretty wet. I have only included it to get your attention as you may be tiring of pictures of the natural beauty of this part of England.
You will have to click on this next picture to see the detail.


From time to time my late friend Wally Emery would collect his elderly mother from Reading and take her down to holiday at his home in the West Country. Such a scene as this always gave rise to the same inevitable comment:
 "I can't understand the price of mutton Wally with all these sheep about".


Remember "Last of the Summer Wine"?   Do you recall the two policemen out in the Yorkshire countryside who sat in their car eating their sandwiches and discussing nothing of great importance. They have been transferred here: we saw them; or is it just a thing policemen do everywhere!


If I told you the name of the villages hereabouts you may never have heard of them:Gussage St Michael, Tarrant Gunville, Tarrant Hinton, Tarrant Keyneston,
Tarrant Hinton, Tarrant Monkton and this gem, Tarrant Rushton.
Here is St Mary's Church, old and quite ordinary outside.


Inside, a joy of colour shared with village children in this corner.
The sunbeams have not been added; they really were there.

You may not recognise the person in this next picture.
It is Sir Alan Cobham who, in the thirties was renowned, for amongst other attributes, as the leader of his flying circus team of pilots who toured Britain and gave many their first thrills of aerial display. He worked out a system for refueling aircraft from aerial tankers that was first used off Ireland in 1939. His company, Flight Refueling, is based in Wimborne in Dorset, near to which is the very vibrant Cobham Sports and Social Club (membership full). He is buried (1973) in St Mary's churchyard in Tarrant Rushton. 

Snowdrops seem to like Dorset. Following this French style road  you may come across another delightfully named village; Gussage All Saints where the churchyard is a delight in February and where the locals are fighting to save their 'local' the Drovers Inn which, if you believe half of what you read in Tripe Avoider, was either packed to the doors or empty because the 'landlord' was drunk!

This is not an isolated problem in villages, or even towns, across England. It is difficult to understand how this pub has been classified by the District Council as an Asset of Community Value when most locals thought it so much of an asset they rarely or never used it.







Here's another mystery. Where in Dorset would you find this view?

I may have misled you at the start: it was not raining, I was in here. in here.

Winter peace and William Rodney

This is a bit more of Dorset countryside looking north from a viewpoint at Canford not far from our new home at Broadstone:

and this is the River Stour where it passes Canford School a stone's throw from Wimborne,












a placid scene even in February where single sculls grace the water.

I have the greatest admiration for the female of the species whose dress (click to enlarge) was not my idea of what to wear on a freezing cold day.

Just below the suspension bridge on which we stood the river changed character at a weir which turned the calm waters into a frenzy of foam and rushing waves.















Whatever the weather it makes a fine country scene,

to which is added Canford Church, by the school gates, which contains this wonderful bust of one William Rodney of whom I have yet to learn anything at all:

a bit of detective work for you!

a bit of fresh air

You may be forgiven for thinking that the title of this blog will find us in February walking along Poole Quay, or in a more rustic spot here at Arne.







We could even be enjoying sunshine across the fields here.


Unfortunately I did not take these photographs. Our fresh air was closer to home. So close in fact that I did not even need to go out of the front door to enjoy(?) it.






This is Andy and Richard fitting new sliding doors to the balcony. As I explained to Andy, apart from the actual price, they have cost me a fortune in that they have forced my wife out to the shops!

I supposed 'forced' is a bit of an exaggeration when it comes to ladies shopping.

Spring is on the way

Here's a view they don't see very often down here in Dorset. Mind you, it didn't snow until five in the morning and was gone a few hours later and that was a week or so ago now.





Back to normal today with bright sunshine. It is so bright it is a job to see where you are going at times.

You can tell this is so from the picture below which I took today.






For half an hour in between visiting and being visited we went off to nearby Kington Lacey.
This is the house, which we did not have time to visit on this occasion, supposedly filled with fine things including this picture of the Egyptian Darts Champion.

What we really went for was to see the snowdrops.






This is late afternoon and you can see how light it is with the sun shining through the trees.


The evenings are beginning to stretch out and Spring really looks to be round the corner.