Loxit version 2.0

March - December 2020
Staycations in the U.K. Read more
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  • Day 177

    Pirates of Penzance

    August 30, 2020 in England ⋅ ☀️ 15 °C

    This trip, covering some staycations outside London but within the U.K., is to run alongside my London trip (if the system can cope with this!) Like the London trip, it starts with the 7th March date which is when I returned from Mexico. So after almost six long months under one roof, I'm finally on my way for six days in England's far south-west. Over the last two months, restrictions have gradually eased, with all the shops now open and crucially for me, pubs and restaurants. And I'm now into my second haircut. But it's a time of premature optimism before the second wave of the virus gets into gear a month from now......

    Penzance is an attractive fishing town of about 20,000 people and while it wasn't a haunt for lawlessness as portrayed in the Gilbert & Sullivan opera, it trades on the romance of piracy much as Tombstone is famous for the Gunfight at the O.K. Corral. The 5-hour rail journey from London has taken me through increasingly alluring locations of Exeter, Plymouth, Truro, Redruth and Camborne---the latter being important tin-mining centres in the 18th century. The journey hasn't been without its anxieties, with compulsory face masks and when the journey threatens to become busy, a face shield as well. But before nightfall I'm safely checked into a comfortable hotel a stone's throw from the station.

    The next day is gorgeously sunny and with my walking boots on, I take a short bus ride to the picturesque fishing village of Mousehole (pronounced Mousle). My weekend newspaper has listed some coastal walks around the country and fortuitously includes a hike from Mousehole to the next village, Lamorna. Access is via the South West Coast Path, a 600 mile trail running from northern Somerset all the way round to Dorset. Other people must have read the same article because there are many places where the narrowness of the path forces people to find a passing place. On one of these I place my right foot off the path and find---air! Well, they do say, have a nice trip. Fortunately the ground is soft and the only casualty is a patch of mud on my right knee.

    Retracing my steps, I continue past Mousehole to Newlyn, more or less an extension of Penzance and an attractive fishing port in its own right.
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  • Day 181

    Mexicornwall

    September 3, 2020 in England ⋅ ☁️ 17 °C

    A bus excursion heading for Land's End takes me to Porthcurno. It's only a hamlet but became important as the site of the first international telegraph cable, linking Britain with Bombay (now Mumbai) in India in 1870. It was chosen ahead of Falmouth due to less risk of ships' anchors being caught in it. Today its attraction, like many in Cornwall, is the beach although the rain keeps most people away. Apart from a lone swimmer in a distant parody of the scene in "Dr. No" where Ursula Andress emerges from the Caribbean!

    The following day I am the only passenger on the bus north from Penzance to Zennor with its attractive church. From there another almost empty bus takes me to Botallack, an important tin mining area. Metals were mined in Cornwall from the Bronze and Iron Ages and got into top gear in the 17th century. Lonely ruins of the steam engine housing remain on the cliffs, and some of the mines continue under the sea. By the 19th century the mines were in decline and the miners started emigrating to the New World, even turning up in Mexico to operate the silver mines there.

    Now there's a coincidence: a few miles east of Penzance stands the Mexico Inn. I'm not sure how it gets its name but maybe my February/March trip isn't quite over!
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  • Day 214

    On another Thanet

    October 6, 2020 in England ⋅ ⛅ 14 °C

    After a month in London I'm headed for the coast again but in the other direction from Cornwall---east Kent. I know Ramsgate, a town of about 40,000 people, from family trips long ago on my father's boat. On one famous occasion, after a gruelling 12 hours across the Thames estuary from the boat's home port in Essex, the helmsperson failed to stop our boat in time to prevent the bowsprit smashing through the window of a moored boat. History doesn't record the reaction of that boat's owner.

    This time I am staying on dry land but the harbour is still a great attraction. The work of engineer John Smeaton, it dates from the late 1700s to reinforce defences against the Napoleonic forces and indeed, the French coast can still be seen on a clear day. All kinds of dignitaries have stayed here, from George IV (who gave the town royal status), Princess Victoria, Samuel Taylor Coleridge and Vincent van Gogh. The reformer Elizabeth Fry attended to the needs of female convicts bound for the colonies and supplied each of them with clothing and a Bible.

    The first two pictures show the opposite ends of golden hour---a gorgeous sunrise over the harbour, and the lighthouse in late afternoon. What follows is an image of the 200-year-old clock house where Ramsgate's own meridian was established as 5 minutes 41 seconds ahead of that of Greenwich. Nearby is the town beach where in the distance, swimmers can be seen emerging fearlessly from the October water.

    The town also boasts some beautiful early 19th century squares that wouldn't be out of place in Islington and their names are, if anything, more fanciful. One is La Belle Alliance Square, with the Camden Arm (sic) at one corner. The S fell off but no arm in that! Another is Liverpool Lawn, whose connection with Merseyside is a former Prime Minister of that name. One could buy a house here for a third of the London equivalent and be within a two-hour commute of the Big Smoke.
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  • Day 217

    The real Deal

    October 9, 2020 in England ⋅ ☀️ 13 °C

    Local bus is a wonderful way to get around the country. The infrequency of many---maybe once every 2 hours---requires creative planning if one is to have a successful day, but the Loop service from Ramsgate to Margate runs 4 hourly and avoids this problem. The bus in the picture is actually a cafe where I lunch in the rain on a bacon roll with fried egg. Margate used to be a byword for tawdry English seaside towns with candy floss and "kiss me quick" hats but connections with artists J.M.W. Turner and Tracey Emin have raised its game. But the gentrification hasn't yet reached Cliftonville on the eastern edge of Margate so I'm happy to record its peeling stucco terraces.

    The sun has returned for the following day and I take a train south to Walmer. From here it's an easy 2-mile walk alongside the shingle to Deal, an altogether more upmarket prospect. Even the beach huts are classy here. Both towns were defended by Henry VIII who built fortresses to resist the threat of a French invasion. In the southward-looking picture of the pier you can just about make out the French coast, but the French never challenged Henry's forts and the view of Cap Gris Nez is as close as I'm going to get to France for a while. The pier was also the subject of invasion fears---from Germany. The Allies bombed it in World War II to prevent Hitler's forces from trying to land, and what you see now is a 1957 reconstruction.
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  • Day 227

    Dorset meets its Waterloo

    October 19, 2020 in England ⋅ ☁️ 12 °C

    Only nine days in London and I'm on the rails again. With fears of another lockdown on the way, I feel the net is tightening and this proves to be my final trip before the anxieties are confirmed. Meanwhile however it's another visit to the West Country, three hours on the train from Waterloo to Dorset.

    Weymouth is an attractive town of about 50,000 people. Like Ramsgate, it has some decorative pavilions with curly ironwork on the seafront. Also like Thanet, it saw wartime action with Portland Harbour a important naval base, The inner harbour is popular with fishermen, yachties and drinkers. It's at one of these pubs where I buy a 2-pint a takeaway of local beer ready for a Zoom friendly tonight, When the girl puts it on the table, I give her a funny look as at first she seems to expect me to carry it back to the hotel without the lid. Just as well I have the small backpack to put it in!
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  • Day 228

    Durdling in Dorset

    October 20, 2020 in England ⋅ 🌬 14 °C

    Time to take to the local buses again, and I head east to Lulworth. It's a breezy walk along the South-West Coast Path (which I met a few weeks ago in Cornwall) along the cliffs. Nearby is Durdle Door, which in the spring became too famous for its own good as hordes flocked to this beauty spot in possible violation of social distancing rules. Not being a lover of crowds anyway, I don't overstay my welcome.

    A couple of days later I'm headed in the following direction to West Bay, where the cliffs are no longer chalky white and while popular, is less hectic than Lulworth. A few miles back east I get off at the village of Swire and walk to the shore. The shingle is coarser here than at West Bay and it's said that as the pebbles graduate in size down the Chesil Beach from here to Portland, a blind person can tell to the nearest mile where they are.

    And now it's a trip up memory lane as I hike up a track in search of the cottage where my family spent a summer holiday in 1953. Sadly there's no trace of the house, Greenleaze, but it's set in attractive countryside seemingly a thousand miles from the world's worries. The place names seem to reflect this, starting with the nearest village, Puncknowle (pronounced Punnel).
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  • Day 276

    Dorset again

    December 7, 2020 in England ⋅ ⛅ 4 °C

    Seven weeks after my previous visit, I'm making use of a temporary reprieve from lockdown and am back in Weymouth for a few days. It's not quite in the same league as Cuba where I was this time last year but I've got to like it. The elegant terrace along the seafront is a good introduction to the town's attractions.

    Weymouth marks the start of the massive Portland Harbour and the clear morning affords impressive views over it (the alleyway in image 2 is called Lookout). There's a pier which may have been active in days gone by but in low season is deserted, and a bollard designed as fishermen's wellies. There was once an active brewing industry in Weymouth (5th image) but the bottles in the final picture are from breweries west of here (Jail Ale from Dartmoor and Proper Job from Cornwall).
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  • Day 279

    Living up to its billing

    December 10, 2020 in England ⋅ ☁️ 9 °C

    It's nice to spend a few days in a part of the country much less infected with Covid than the London area. The disease is still out there but the fear factor is reduced. Public transport is a safer option here and I take to the country buses---which are nearly empty anyway. So I board the X53 north-west towards West Bay from the previous trip. The first stop is the bucolic-named Burton Bradstock, a pretty village in warm-coloured stone. A track leads down to the beach, on the famed Jurassic coast. No fossils today, and an incoming tide that washes over my feet as I search for a composition, but a pleasant walk. Back towards Weymouth is another attractive village, Abbotsbury, known for its swannery (closed for the winter) and some more historic buildings making the best of the overcast weather.

    It's always nice to find something unexpected, as I do the next day on a bus ride towards Portland Bill, the southern tip of the Isle of Portland. Linked to the mainland only by the causeway of the Chesil Beach, Portland isn't quite an island but gives that feeling of being on the edge of the world that always fascinates me. On the eastern side of the peninsula, a path leads past huge boulders lie around from former quarries that used to furnish many London buildings in the famed Portland stone. And out of nowhere looms an enormous baroque chapel, St. George's, guarding a cemetery over the western clifftops. Like the chapel, the ornate headstones look as if they've been transplanted from southern Europe or even further afield. If it wasn't for the December chill, Portland could feel halfway to Italy or Spain already.
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