Bournemouth and Buxton have at least one thing in common. Both are “resort towns” visited frequently by holiday makers and day-trippers.  Buxton is about as far away from the sea as it is possible to be in England, Bournemouth nestles very nicely on the South Coast, and is blessed with the ever-present English Channel and magnificent golden sands.  Whereas the population (according to Google) of Bournemouth/Poole is around 519,000, Buxton seems to cone in around 22,000.  (I think it’s a little more than that now, especially as there is much new development occurring right now.

I don’t remember at all my first visit to Bournemouth. I think I was three years old, and my hard-up parents decided to “splash-out” on a holiday on the south coast.  The train fare for two adults and four children would have eaten substantially into the meagre budget for such a holiday.  Sadly, I have no memory of travelling on the Pines Express from Manchester or its grand finale over the long-since closed and to this day, much lamented Somerset and Dorset line into Bournemouth West.  My sister, Mary, does recall the holiday when it rained most of the time, and even she was hungry because of the spartan catering at the very unexciting boarding house my parents could only just afford.  The family holidays I do remember were always very good indeed, with Mum and Dad excellent at getting the most out of wherever we would travel (usually by train) to.  Growing up in a built-up town, anywhere in the countryside, was always an adventure. 

I digress!

Back to the 21st century!

I don’t think that there was an hourly service from Manchester to Bournemouth in 1952.  Despite the savage cuts to the railway as a result of the Beeching report of (would you believe) sixty years ago, and despite also the continual grumblings of the media and the unforgiving general public, today’s railway can usually get you around the nation quite efficiently, and fairly comfortably. Perhaps not very cheaply.  However, just shy of 5 hours cramped in a Cross Country Voyager 5-car diesel unit was perhaps not among my favourite railway experiences.  But it’s not Cross Country’s fault that I am still more than 6 feet tall!  And, one train an hour from my nearest Inter City Station, Macclesfield to Southampton and Bournemouth without having to change trains is hugely impressive, and, very well patronised.

The Hermitage Hotel is “pretty good.”  I imagine back in the day, it was one of Bournemouth’s premier establishments, although there are many such hotels in and around Bournemouth. Dinner last night was tasty, the service efficient, but the ambience somewhat lacking.  It represented good value, however.  The cauliflower soup, which could have been awful, was hot and delicious.  My deal included three courses with coffee, an extra which the hard-pressed staff did not anticipate my requesting.  I was not alone, being joined by former neighbour and disco colleague Paul who hibernated down here for employment, warmer climes, and endless sea air.  Occasionally, he gloats, texting pictures of axure skies and idyllic seas, while, at the same time, Buxton drowns ‘neath a canopy of dull grey, off-white, and persistent precipitation!  It seems that the inclement weather of the north has stalked me to the south of England!  However, the storms we endured for  most of Tuesday also thrashed the south coast, the back-end of some named storm or hurricane, which, of course, will be attributed to global warming.

This morning (22/923) I made sure that I was just in time for breakfast.  All the necessities for a good cooked breakfast were laid out in buffet form, as is usually the case these days. Despite my being late, plenty of everything was still available, and much to the hotel’s credit, hot.  I enjoyed coffee in the lounge, still occupied by several from a coach party who were leaving after six nights.  The sobering thought is that all these old people were around my age, and much to my amusement, just as noisy as if at the height of their youth! 

Perhaps not as invisaged, I had what looked to be a very nice day to myself.  I would either take the train to Weymouth, explore Bournemouth (to get my 7,500 steps in, or revisit the Swanage Railway and take a train ride on a very attractive preserved railway.  Might it be cold, rain like hell,  or be pleasantly warm today.  To be safe, I would carry a waterproof jacket and pullover, and acquire a Bournemouth baseball cap to keep my head warm on the open-top bus.  Frustratingly, I just missed the 10.46 by less than a minute, and I doubted the wisdom of lugging around clothing for inclement weather. I need not have worried.  As if by the grace of God, the next bus to Swanage was not an open top one.  But as we set off through the extensive suburbs/outskirts of Bournemouth, the leadened skies imported from Buxton shed its load in biblical fashion intermittently until we’ll after arrival around 70 minutes later at Swanage. 

As you can see, my intention to travel on the Swanage Railway was scuppered!  And, Swanage felt kind of strange and uninviting as I searched for shelter and lunch.  But now (14.30 hrs), the sun seems to have reappeared, and I shall reacquaint myself with the hugely attractive Dorset coast before returning to Bournemouth. I did have a typical seaside lunch of cottage pie, salad peas, and endless tea. 

I am aiming for the 16.05 bus back to Bournemouth. Thankfully, the weather did allow for quite a decent stroll along Swanage’s attractive beach, towards numerous rows of beach-huts, which I suspect make a small fortune for the developers.  I must look into the possibilities of renting one.  But I suspect a balcony cabin on a cruise ship may have more to offer!

My day in the south actually turned out well.  Yes, the heavens opened with the frequency of bad news on the telly. But in between the showers, the sun shone as if like a spot light on various coastal features.

It was a pity that there were no trains from Swanage. I assume this could be due to the effects of the recent pandemic.  However, walking along the seafront made for a very pleasant alternative.  The sea appeared tranquil even if the tide’s rhythm was somewhat noisy and calming simultaneously.

I was in plenty of time for the 16.15 bus back from Swanage Station to Bournemouth Square. I had achieved well over 10,000 steps by the time I was back at the hotel.

In the evening, I would meet Chris and Sue, now living in New South Wales, whom I first met while sailing from Vancouver and Alaska back to Southampton in 2019, and again at Sydney during this year’s global travels.  We enjoyed a fine meal in a French restaurant, which I understand used to be Austin Reed, a high-end men’s wear establishment.

It’s hard to think of a more splendid day.  Tomorrow, I venture back up north after a late breakfast and an early lunch.  The short break ends with a live performance of Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon, presumably by a tribute band at Jodrell Bank in Cheshire.  Reality kicks in on Sunday morning!

Many thanks for reading, David, 23.05 hrs in the Lobby of the Hermitage Hotel, Bournemouth. 22/9/23.