A has a problem with West Bay, so we don't even make it to the end of the new harbour wall but set off up the distinctive red East Cliff passing the golf course until another pretty grim static caravan park at Burton Freshwater. Here the path heads inland a bit towards the first bridge over the River Bride. We decide on the more adventurous approach by attempting to vault the mouth of the stream as it splays out across the shingle. A pause follows while shoes and socks are removed and dried. J reminisces about a fun Christmas spent with friends in a nearby cottage in Burton Bradstock many years ago.
We muse on the excellence of Billy Bragg's house and its location and hope a group of Guatemalan miners are enjoying a fraternal visit in the west wing. Maybe see him on stage at the Tolpuddle Festival later this year.
The Hive beach cafe has become very well known. Today we arrive at 3.00pm and are told lunch service is finished for the day. Had a distinctly mixed experience at this place. Certainly the food is very good, the local sourcing and intentions are all good too, but previous experience of queues and scrums for a table at peak time have left a scar. J has stopped going here with visitors at weekends. And today ourselves and other punters hard behind us fall foul of what seems a very old fashioned closing time culture in a setting that seems very modern. We do get a substantial carrot cake and coffee and enjoy a seat in the sun.
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Along the low cliffs and then down to Cogden beach we pass a caravan park we actually like! Has a faded eccentric charm quite unlike the eyesores we have moaned about so far. And there is a wonderful change in the flora and scenery as we hit this next section. Huge drifts of thrift, lots of wild cabbage and other attractive beach side plants that we will need to look up. Burton Mere is an attractive small swampy lake with exciting bird noises drifting out of the reed and wild iris beds. The path officially passes to the north but we like the beach atmosphere with its rows of Sunday fishermen adding to the atmosphere until the strain of walking on shingle sends us back to the official path and a close encounter with a heard of Fresians.
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West Bexington is in view and we return to the car we originally left here earlier. Sadly the Manor Hotel is closed for refurbishment and this is the only source of refreshment in this village. We have not used as much public transport as we would like so far, largely due to time constraints. As we plan the next few sections we resolve to take some whole days and carry details of the bus services - should be possible as we get further east with Dorchester as the hub, its better connected than Ottery.
A month has to pass before we can hit the trail again and withdrawal symptoms are a factor. We do get to the Bridport Food Festival and after Hugh Fearly-Whittingstall does his thing with mackerel, we get talking to the fine fellows of the National Trust Jurassic Coast team, who tell us about the 'rock around the coast' walking tours.
http://www.jurassiccoast.com/270/jurassic-news-36/latest-news-162/rock-around-the-coast-and-take-a-walk-through-time-622.htmltr
They confirm there is no specific walking guide to the route, and this feeds our fantasy of writing a sort of Devon/Dorset Alfred Wainwright guide. Is there demand out there?
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