Saturday Mope

It's a long time since I have been down at Poole Harbour, which is just visible as a dim hump in the far distance.   I dreamt of buying a wee house with a view such as this over the harbour, but decided the several millions required could be better used elsewhere.  I used to walk near here with a friend and we often contemplated a flat with a higher view, just up the way from here.  We both decided that a million pound for a flat was too much.  There again, having 47pence between us, this was an easy decision.  Dreams are cheap, but the more I look at rich folks throwing their money away on expensive items, mostly for show, I wonder if they are as happy as you and I are in our struggles?  How many are divorced, unstable, depressed, and looking for meaning by gaining more useless items?  I have done similar but at a cheaper level, it does not work.  Obtaining a property such as this may be good fun but you would end up mixing with the type of high flying greedy guts that you prefer to avoid.  Those who can cheerfully afford a £10 million house are not the people I want to live next to.  Obviously some would be decent, but those desperate to be among the higher orders would proliferate, and what a bore they would be.  

It is five years since I took this picture of Corfe Castle.  That seems like a generation ago.  Those living in Corfe, in houses made from castle stones, must be among the rich of Dorset.  A house near to the castle costs around £800,000, but it does come with a couple of thousand tourists outside your door, cameras clicking as much as their tongues, kids screaming, and traffic a couple of feet from your window.  I'm not sure I could enjoy that.  

The thing of course is to be where 'your people,' are found.

Not far from me, the main road north from historic times, dives down the hill.  Traffic flows day and night, yet people pay vast sums, similar to Corfe, to live amongst 'their people.'  In one way this is understandable, in another, I wonder if 'their people,' could be found in a better area?  We like to be with 'our kind,' and object when incomers to the country behave in the same manner.  An example I read of the other day was 'Green Lanes,' in London.  Many are Cypriots who came here in times past.  At one end Turkish Cypriots gather in coffee clubs as they did back home.  Up the road, sharing many of the same shops, Greek Cypriots live similar lives as lived back in the sunshine.  The distinction is clear, but they need to be near one another to live lives as they always have.  Together, but separate.

Humans are funny...

The Sea! The Sea! As the Greeks said...

It's possible a Greek or two were wandering about when we landed on one of Europe's best beaches.  It ought to be best as they spend vast sums dredging up sand and piling it on to keep the beach in good condition, they succeed well.  Here we see one of the growing dunes that are being manufactured, the majority have grass planted to bind them together and lower the risk of the tide sweeping them away and the result is a more natural beach, natural if you remember much of it is dredged form somewhere out there.

  
Bournemouth beach on a Wednesday morning is one of the safest around.  Flags fly to indicate safe places to swim, large huts contain lifeguards sitting on watch, dogs are allowed but in parts restricted, security prowl looking for those who wish others harm. All in all they work hard to ensure a safe day out and it works well in my view.

The wind offered an opportunity for those who like sailing yet few were to be seen from here.  The cloud to our left allowed some sun to appear to our right where the 'Old Harry' rocks are situated.  The sea meanwhile gave different shades of light to us and I failed to capture the 'silvery sea' in front of me.  The settings wrong again!   Bah!

After inhaling all the sea breeze we could and discussing great affairs (she was back indoors scared of the sea so conversation could be deep and satisfying) it was decided to head upwards and get the view from on top of the cliffs.  

A great view of the sweep of the bay from Old Harry rocks to the far end at Hengisbury Head, a place she indoors will not let us travel as it's too windy.  On the beach we could not see these four yachts trailing one another yet up here all sorts of things appear in front of us.

What was he carrying as he jogged along the sand?  Such running is good for the fitness but in what looks like a wetsuit and carrying a deflated banana of huge proportions?  Maybe his dog was well ahead of him?

This one made several attempts to put out to sea but appeared to get no further than fifty yards before returning to shore.  Quite what he intended I was not sure but he did not go far.  It is not uncommon for people to row canoes (Kayaks?) around the British Isles but it is hard work in the seas round the coast.  In some ways I understand this, we all wish to do something rather daft that exercises the body, I cycled from Edinburgh to London once (once!) in 1974 at around fifty miles a day.  Not bad for someone who did not have a bike until a few weeks beforehand, rather stupid now of course!  The adventure of doing something physical and unusual is within us all, even though it is often daft!  I hope he makes it.

Behind us stood a long row of houses developed to take advantage of the view.  Some dated a little like this one (I will take a penthouse please), others replacing 1930's houses with modern three story blocks of wide windowed apartments costing just over a million each.  Down on Sandbanks where the rich live a modern home on the front could set you back five or six million, unless you wanted a big one.  Personally I prefer this block to the modern sleek trendy minimalist offerings.  I would wish for a home not a cold austere trendy flat, that is not a home just something to show off to others. 
My wishes of course make no difference, neither are coming my way nor I suspect will they come yours.  The view is great however and it is free to walk along the front inspecting where the ground has slipped away or sit and cogitate while gulls fly over the head and a Kestrel hovers over the cliff seeking lunch.  We saw one hover and suddenly swoop down below but we did not see him rise up again.  I wonder if he got fed or is still there chomping away?

    
This area was quite quiet while we sat and pondered but down below every 250 yards or so sat small pockets of people, usually a couple of women and a huddle of children, near the water and chucking down sandwiches in between enjoying the beach.  With the holidays round the corner it is clear that this area will be a mass of people doing similar and I will be happily above on the cliff rather than down there in that throng on that day.

These Scots thistles get everywhere, you see it is a fact of life that without Scotland or Scots this world would not work!  I er, will not attend church today in case any racist comments and or bottle throwing erupt during the service as comments regarding last nights result might be considered provocative....

We scurried home for lunch stopping only at the gorgeous Poole Bay!  Here those who stand on surf boards armed only with a sail learn to develop their hobby in the knowledge that this water is less than two feet deep.  In the distance sits Poole Harbour, which along with Christchurch at the other end of the bay have been the only workable harbours here since the Iron age, that's from around 500 BC until today.  Bournemouth itself was no use to anyone bringing goods ashore as these two places provided the harbour for the area, it being fear of Napoleonic invasion and the occasional smuggler that led some to seek the Militia to defend the beaches against such invasion that brought the Bourne Mouth to prominence. Lewis Tregonwell, a captain in the militia secured this area and after his wife suffered depression when their child died they holidayed in the area.  They loved it so much they built a house in 1812 and moved in.  Knowing sea bathing had become the cure all for all sickness Tregonwell built large villas, for the rich, to indulge themselves while holidaying, secured his fortune and created Bournemouth.  Now it possesses almost 200,000 souls and combined with Poole, Christchurch etc, almost half a million live in the area.  Too crowded for me.

 Naturally the water means a great many live as they have done for generations on the water.  Quite what this one was doing was unclear but I suspect his boat gets more use than those that appear unloved around him.  It is not unusual to see such craft slowly die and disappear into the mud.  Cheaper than having them broken or removed I suppose but there again do they not pay mooring fees?

Having lunched, how nice to eat properly for a few days, we two returned to the front late in the afternoon.  This meant parking in the cheapest place and how attractive such car parks can be!  Several levels of concrete with millions of pounds worth of debt laden cars in buildings using cheap paint to keep costs down.  Few holiday here but it is clear why movie makers often find themselves in such places.

   
Walking though the gardens to the pier we saw something of the huge numbers of young folk who fill this town while attending the University or the many language schools.  Vast numbers filled the park, kicking balls about, shouting, chasing one another, or as here on the beach, posing so as to attract the girls.  We sat amongst the throng, something you realise we were not too keen on, people watching for a while.  How much better the view was from high up above the cliffs than sitting amongst so many people here at the centre of beach life.   While it is right folks ought to enjoy the beach, and it is a great beach, I wished it was November, then the beach would still be great but these folks would be elsewhere!

Like the gulls we were wondering 'who ate all the pies?'  Or was it 'who drank all the 'Stella?'

Did I explain I enjoy Bournemouth?  My spiritual mentor was there, and she just as important in this even though the phrase I mostly hear her say is 'Shut up!'  The beach, comfy bed, good food, the sea, the countryside, the castle and the variety of intriguing houses built by the wealthy over the years are a delight to me, especially as I have not been there with them for two years.  Enjoyment is the word to sum it up.  You will be glad I am off home now...

The Sea! The Sea! It's Wet...

Having arrived for a rest from my labours I was taken on a walk through a park, up the high Street crowded with heavy traffic and thousand's of people and then forced along the beach.  We started high up along the chine where seaside flats with large windows and enclosed balconies start at around £400,00 and with houses on the shore with views over Poole Harbour fetching between £3 and 10 million.  I will not be buying one.   

 
I was not only frogmarched along the shore but then forced to climb back up the chine the hard way - going upwards!  We took a shortcut (he said) to make it easier but I lost two stone in weight by the time we reached the top.  

The sand along here is well maintained. Earlier this year in was renewed as storms had taken much away and we watched a tractor pulling deep sand back from the stairs down to the beach, the tide has raised this several feet and his job was to pull it all back.  He soon gave up we noticed.  During the summer there are many guards on duty, strict control over the promenade, two cyclists who went through at the wrong times were fine £50 plus much more in costs for cycling at the wrong times, and huts are placed at various intervals for the many problems families bring with them, or children as they are known.  

We began our Matterhorn like ascent around here at the back of a somewhat grubby hotel.  Had we been able to continue we would have reached Sandbanks where the multi million pound houses are found but instead climbed to the mere million pound ones.  Flats here have wonderful views and are the last resting places of the wealthier type who retire here to waste the cash their children hoped they would inherit.  We were personally ignored by several of those. 

Poole Harbour, a lovely spot with water only a few feet deep for a long way out.  Usually you see people standing next to a boat far out but few were about this day.  In the middle of course the water is very deep and the Bologne Ferry passes by at regular intervals along side other large ships winding their way in.  The views here are magnificent, the weather always changeable but always offering a variety of sky to look at and wonder.  A very popular place to parade and only £2.5 million for a house, reasonable I say.  

This was to be the picture of us receiving oxygen from a passing paramedic crew but I considered it too unsavoury for tender hearts...

Cold and Wet

The day we wandered to Poole Bay the weather was cold and wet, the wind blew a gale, and the inclination to believe this was a summers day was strong!  Such was the power of the wind that holding the camera was difficult, hence the pictures are not sharp, and the water was jumping over the edge towards us as we walked.  Many of the small dinghy's near the waters edge were in two minds as to whether they ought to just sink the 18 inches to the sea bed or remain half submerged.  In the distance stands Brownsea Island where Baden Powell held the first Boy Scout Jamboree before the Great War.  Owned by a rich woman for years the island became protected, so we were not allowed to walk over the water to visit.  Instead we forced our caps down over our heads and returned to the car.

Winds like this bring out the windsurfers and many are found in the safe bay area.  Only one was there today, many others crammed into a large van pulling a trailer of such boards and resisted the temptation to catch frostbite.  This fellow spent some time roaming around at speed, falling over, struggling up, and racing off again.  The fact that the bay slopes also encourages water skiing!  The houses overlooking this point start at around two and a half million and rise steeply thereafter. 

   

The calmer waters around Christchurch suffered the same cold wind but revealed the money available for some in these days of austerity.  The narrow opening from the Bay ensures this is a quiet place to moor.  Large numbers of boats can be seen sheltering here on Google Maps.  Personally I find the hard work involved in sailing such craft needless now that motors are available, some folks however take their boats around the world, fighting the raging seas by pulling on ropes and watching the waves at varying angles.  

I have to admit however this looked a fine little ship to me.  Looks older than the rest or maybe it is my fertile imagination.  Does it ever see the sea?  Has this wee boat visited lands afar off and have stories to tell?  It seems a shame to buy such as a mere 'tax dodge' as some do, or waste thousands on a boat and never use it.  The idea of sitting aboard such and just letting the world pass by while drinking tea and cogitating on a fine day has great appeal to me however.  What thinkest thou? 

   

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O Happy Week!

What a lovely Christmas time that was!  I was so happy I never thought about the missing laptop until I wanted to play around with the photos I'd taken.  Goodness gracious, who would have thunk it?  A whole week without reading the online Mail, grumpy folks on football forums, 
and spam merchants clogging up the web.  Wonderful!  Of course Mr Anonymous had left several thousand posts for me to remove but that has been done and the papers really don't need reading do they?  

I started on the Monday in the hope of missing much of the weekend traffic, and bar a pair of women gossiping behind me forcing the aged Walkman out of the bag the train was quite enjoyable.  Of course I had to change at the new interchange at Stratford and climb aboard the Jubilee line.  How long since I endured an underground journey I fail to remember but little appears to have changed.  Almost no English to be seen, which is not something to complain about, no smiling faces, no helpful gestures, no view out of the window after we left West Ham.  Glancing around I noted the majority no longer read newspapers, now it is ipads, tablets and the like.  My Walkman hid quietly at this point.  At Waterloo the one real problem was the daft idea to buy a coffee before boarding.  There I was suitcase in one hand, coffee in another, and no hand left to put the ticket through the gate!  A smiling lady employee used her key, rushed through, smiled and let me wait outside!  Grrrr!  However I managed to balance the £2.05p worth of coffee (worth about 15p actually) on the far side of the gate, maneuver the ticket into the slot and barge through without spilling anything.   

  

How lovely to stay in a clean house, warm, well fed, and not required to do anything but look out the very wide windows at the birdies squabbling among the feeders hanging in the garden.  The Robins, Blackbirds, Finches and Tits fed happily undisturbed, bar the intrusion of a Buzzard which spent an hour or two hiding in the corner until we decided it was better chased off.  Having found the garden empty on arrival, been fooled by a fluttering leaf to dive to the lawn the bird sneekily hid behind the garden shed and watched carefully through the windows at the feeders.  You may find it difficult to believe how enjoyable the garden scene is but I assure you he and I spent many an hour, with her grumbling in the background, discussing the activities of the feathered folks.  Of course it would have been better still if the sun had shown up a little more often, sulking behind clouds was it's major occupation most of the time. 

Can you see the Buzzard?

Some folks have difficulty finding one family, I have two!  How lucky to be able to find two families!  Not only that I get on with them.  I suppose I would not be there otherwise.  Work and poverty stopped me getting down there for years and it was a week of restful tender loving care - for me at least!  So much so that I spent hours watching the kind of TV I would normally abhor!  More than this I found myself enjoying what was on offer and getting involved with the hero's problems.  The feeble young Viking befriending the injured Dragon brought tears to my eyes.  Quite why he and the girl hero had American accents and the older Vikings Scots accents escaped us.  Do Americans not realise Vikings (who do not have horns on their helmets) come from Scandinavia   Look it up on the map!   So slouched on the couch, yet another mug of tea in hand, chocolates around, possibly home made fruitcake in hand, I passed the week amongst intelligent conversation and laughter.  Made a change from talking to myself.

A trip to Poole Bay to be blown away and around the corner to watch the ferry and sit admiring the view of the sea.  Gales of wind blowing folks hats from their heads while aboard the Swanage Ferry gave us a laugh.  The view gave us reason to sit and stare for a while.  There is something healing to the soul sitting and watching a view, either of the sea or the land.  Some wrongly call this 'spiritual,' what they mean in 'tranquil.'  We need deep inside to get away from the workshop or office, the sink or the routine and refresh the mind by sitting and just watching the almost still view.  Try it today!

The view of 'Old Harry,' the rocks at the far end of the bay from high above on Canford Cliffs was well worth a look.  'Old Harry' is the solitary rock sticking up at the end of the land in the centre of the top picture.  What a day to be there!  This has been a favourite view of mine since the day I first came here in the late 70's.  The beach below is clean sand, well controlled by the lifeguards, although only one dunderhead was actually swimming in the freezing water, and the long slow walk along the front is one I long to do once again, possibly next time.  

The view in the other direction, to the left gave a clear view of the Isle of Wight.  The chalk cliffs reflecting the sun.  Wonderful!  The flats behind us along Cliff Drive in Poole have this vista daily and I want it also.  Please lend me half a million and I'll pay it back  as soon as I can.    

Now I am back in the smelly home with a bagfull of dirty laundry. Rejoice, rejoice......   On the other hand I have dozens of the other photos to post, can you wait....?

I hope your Christmas week was a good as mine!

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