July 11, 2014 – London – Swanage – Wimbourne Minster – Bath.
I don’t know why I recorded our dull hostel meals, and hardly any others.
From my journal:
Breakfast in the pub again. Our coffee and cream, banana, and protein bars.
Tube to Heathrow. Shuttle to car rental.
Terror: me behind the wheel of a British car. Several near-misses, wrong lanes, jumped curbs and one nervous Nelly in the passenger seat. The first few hours were rough.
We drove to Swanage, stopping at a nearby beach for ice creams and a stroll along the promenade, learning about “beach houses” along the way from an owner.
First look at the Channel. Warm, a little sun.
We drove up to Wimbourne Minster a charming Dorset town, and had a cheap dinner there.
Wimborne Minster to Bath.
The countryside from there on was just gorgeous, Thomas Hardy country. Huge trees made tunnels over the roads. These are Constable’s giants, that dwarf the human figures who tread on faint, soft paths underneath. Then the evening sun pierced leaves and scattered gold and green stars across our canopy. We came out into open fields aglow in the sinking sun. Absolutely brilliant. A beautiful dream.
We arrived in Bath at twilight, able to glimpse the beauty of the town.
The Free Range 