We were awake at 6.30 due to the lack of walls, and general campsite noise, but the alarm didn't go off until 7am. We got up, and Christian put together his diving kit. We could see now that there was a lagoon downhill from the campsite, then a hill, then the open sea. We wandered to the amenities block, and I went to investigate breakfast. Not a soul in either the pub or reception. So we decided to head into Portland and have breakfast at the Aqua Hotel.
It was a quick drive, east to Wyke Regis, and then across the causeway to the Isle of Portland. The causeway is flanked the whole way by Chesil Beach, looming on the right. We arrived not long after 8. There were no obviously diver-looking people there (though the only person we'd met and could recognise was Libby). Christian went outside to sort parking out, and I ordered breakfast and sat down. Two other people in the cafe were talking about a dive, and I thought I heard one of them say Christian's name. Christian came back, and based on what I heard, went up to speak to them. They were indeed from High Wycombe - Paul and his daughter Fiona. Breakfast arrived, and we ate. Christian updated his dive log.
Libby and Nick and Kiran arrived, and everyone kitted up for a 9.45 ropes off. There was nothing for half an hour, and then Libby rang. Apparently the tractor that launches the RHIB had broken down. So Louise and Niamh arrived at the dock 45 mins late. Everyone loaded their gear, and Louise gave everyone a briefing on the dive, and on how to ride the RHIB. They eventually threw the ropes off an hour late, and headed out for adventure.
I, on the other hand, set off walking. I'd decided that I would walk to Weymouth in one direction and get the bus back in the other. So I headed back across the causeway. The bay was full of sailing boats and small craft, and looked lovely. But Chesil Beach was taunting me with interestingness. I wasn't sure if you were supposed to just run up it, but I could see people up there in the distance. So I found a spot where I could get over the grass easily, and trudged my way up the clinky stones (shale, according to the signs). As expected, it was difficult to walk in, but I got to the top, and looked over into the beach below. There was no one there apart from fishermen. I took some photos (including a panorama), and walked down the other side. The further I went, the further I wanted to go. It was a very steep drop down to the waves, and I stopped just before I got wet feet. The waves were small, and mostly slapping down a couple of feet, making a hissing sound as the water drained through the stones. I couldn't face walking along the beach for any length of time, so I went back over the top and back on to the path.
It didn't take long to walk the rest of the causeway, and I started to climb the hill on the other side, expecting Weymouth town centre to be quite nearby. Except it wasn't. There was an awful lot of Wyke Regis. And then the road turned right, and just kept going. Eventually, I got to Weymouth, which was a total distance of 8 km, and stopped at Asda to try and buy a beach towel. I failed - getting some face washers - and had some cheap fish and chips for lunch instead. I continued on into the centre of Weymouth, finding all the shopping streets, and then the nasty high street ones, and managed to buy a case for my phone for £17. Win.
I then followed signs for the beach, and found a beachy paradise, where the first thing I saw was the Punch and Judy show. I sat down on the sand, corresponded with Christian via text, as he'd finished the first dive, and just watched the world go back for a while. It was warm, and I wished I was wearing fewer clothes, and had a towel to stretch out on. I got up to move at about 4pm, and had a wander up to the old harbour, which linked up with the way I'd gone into the city. Back to the beach, I caught a number 1 bus back to Portland. The journey seemed to go embarrassingly quickly considering how long the walk had been.
Back at the Aqua, I waited only a short time, watching the chav kiddies make fools of themselves, and some idiot in a mastless yacht go round and round the harbour before mooring on someone else's mooring. The divers came back around 5pm, packed up, and we went back to the campsite. We only had an hour to kill before going back into Weymouth for dinner with the group, and so Christian put info in his dive log from the day, I sat in the sun and had a very welcome shower. The dirty boy did not.
We went to meet Louise somewhere in the campsite at 7pm, finally finding her, having pitched her tent right across the road from reception, in desperate need of a shower. She told us to go on ahead, and so with no clear idea of where we were going, we drove into Weymouth and parked near the old harbour.
As we were walking in the general direction of restaurants, we bumped into Niamh, Paul, and Fiona. We decided on a pub/restaurant nearby (can't remember its name - someone and someone), and went in. We found a table, and Nick arrived, Louise arrived, and Kiran arrived. Paul bought a round of drinks, and we drank. It transpired that the restaurant was booked out, so Niamh tried to ring around, but Louise won by booking Prezzo for 9.15. Then Niamh was at the bar at the time of Christian's round of drinks, and managed to get a spot in the restaurant we were in for 9pm. At the allotted time, we went upstairs.
I had a lobster bisque fish pie, which was tasty - Christian had lamb stew. Food and service were pretty good. After sorting out the bill, Christian and I took our leave to avoid parking fines, and drove back to the campsite. As it was 10.30, we got ready for bed, and crashed. It was much colder that night.
It was a quick drive, east to Wyke Regis, and then across the causeway to the Isle of Portland. The causeway is flanked the whole way by Chesil Beach, looming on the right. We arrived not long after 8. There were no obviously diver-looking people there (though the only person we'd met and could recognise was Libby). Christian went outside to sort parking out, and I ordered breakfast and sat down. Two other people in the cafe were talking about a dive, and I thought I heard one of them say Christian's name. Christian came back, and based on what I heard, went up to speak to them. They were indeed from High Wycombe - Paul and his daughter Fiona. Breakfast arrived, and we ate. Christian updated his dive log.
Libby and Nick and Kiran arrived, and everyone kitted up for a 9.45 ropes off. There was nothing for half an hour, and then Libby rang. Apparently the tractor that launches the RHIB had broken down. So Louise and Niamh arrived at the dock 45 mins late. Everyone loaded their gear, and Louise gave everyone a briefing on the dive, and on how to ride the RHIB. They eventually threw the ropes off an hour late, and headed out for adventure.
I, on the other hand, set off walking. I'd decided that I would walk to Weymouth in one direction and get the bus back in the other. So I headed back across the causeway. The bay was full of sailing boats and small craft, and looked lovely. But Chesil Beach was taunting me with interestingness. I wasn't sure if you were supposed to just run up it, but I could see people up there in the distance. So I found a spot where I could get over the grass easily, and trudged my way up the clinky stones (shale, according to the signs). As expected, it was difficult to walk in, but I got to the top, and looked over into the beach below. There was no one there apart from fishermen. I took some photos (including a panorama), and walked down the other side. The further I went, the further I wanted to go. It was a very steep drop down to the waves, and I stopped just before I got wet feet. The waves were small, and mostly slapping down a couple of feet, making a hissing sound as the water drained through the stones. I couldn't face walking along the beach for any length of time, so I went back over the top and back on to the path.
It didn't take long to walk the rest of the causeway, and I started to climb the hill on the other side, expecting Weymouth town centre to be quite nearby. Except it wasn't. There was an awful lot of Wyke Regis. And then the road turned right, and just kept going. Eventually, I got to Weymouth, which was a total distance of 8 km, and stopped at Asda to try and buy a beach towel. I failed - getting some face washers - and had some cheap fish and chips for lunch instead. I continued on into the centre of Weymouth, finding all the shopping streets, and then the nasty high street ones, and managed to buy a case for my phone for £17. Win.
I then followed signs for the beach, and found a beachy paradise, where the first thing I saw was the Punch and Judy show. I sat down on the sand, corresponded with Christian via text, as he'd finished the first dive, and just watched the world go back for a while. It was warm, and I wished I was wearing fewer clothes, and had a towel to stretch out on. I got up to move at about 4pm, and had a wander up to the old harbour, which linked up with the way I'd gone into the city. Back to the beach, I caught a number 1 bus back to Portland. The journey seemed to go embarrassingly quickly considering how long the walk had been.
Back at the Aqua, I waited only a short time, watching the chav kiddies make fools of themselves, and some idiot in a mastless yacht go round and round the harbour before mooring on someone else's mooring. The divers came back around 5pm, packed up, and we went back to the campsite. We only had an hour to kill before going back into Weymouth for dinner with the group, and so Christian put info in his dive log from the day, I sat in the sun and had a very welcome shower. The dirty boy did not.
We went to meet Louise somewhere in the campsite at 7pm, finally finding her, having pitched her tent right across the road from reception, in desperate need of a shower. She told us to go on ahead, and so with no clear idea of where we were going, we drove into Weymouth and parked near the old harbour.
As we were walking in the general direction of restaurants, we bumped into Niamh, Paul, and Fiona. We decided on a pub/restaurant nearby (can't remember its name - someone and someone), and went in. We found a table, and Nick arrived, Louise arrived, and Kiran arrived. Paul bought a round of drinks, and we drank. It transpired that the restaurant was booked out, so Niamh tried to ring around, but Louise won by booking Prezzo for 9.15. Then Niamh was at the bar at the time of Christian's round of drinks, and managed to get a spot in the restaurant we were in for 9pm. At the allotted time, we went upstairs.
I had a lobster bisque fish pie, which was tasty - Christian had lamb stew. Food and service were pretty good. After sorting out the bill, Christian and I took our leave to avoid parking fines, and drove back to the campsite. As it was 10.30, we got ready for bed, and crashed. It was much colder that night.
No comments:
Post a Comment