Ever get the feeling you've been (nearly) cheated?
A trip to Dorset would be lacking if it missed this classic coastal walk. Yet things conspired to defeat us. Meteorological conditions could not be helped. The British appetite for ripping off people could.
We drive past several fine looking parking spaces in West Lulworth to try the official car park at Lulwoth Cove. A whole 5 minute walk away. You've never seen a Seat do a 180 quicker than when its driver spots that 3 hours parking is £17.
Jesus H Christ. On a bike. Going downhill. Without brakes.
After the walk, we pop down to the cove for coffees. A 20 minute boat trip is £20 for adults and £15 for children. £70 for a family of four to be entertained for a whole third of an hour.
Padstow's £25 fish and chips may have lost its crown as "Britain's Worst Tourist Trap"
If you are lucky, or it's a Monday on a bleak day, then you should find street parking to commence the walk. We decided to do the high headland first, saving the highlights for the return. They is a good reason for this.
On Hambury Tout things, can only get better
And they do - as we get to the many lung-bursting ups and downs of the coast path, the gloom lifts. Camera phones out for the magnificent seascapes around every corner. Durdle Door Arch leads to Man O' War Cove and then Lulworth Cove.
Did I tell you how much the boat rides were?
Man O'War
Final drop to Lulwoth Cove. Ironically through the car park.
It's a walk that all Rambers should do. Just time it right to start in the right place. In the right weather.
Portland Bill - the UK mainland's answer to Father Ted's Craggy Island, where they take the roads in for storage when the rain gets really bad.
Effectively, the tied island is one enormous quarry - providing the stone that built Britain, not least St Paul's Cathedral. The majority of buildings - apart from lighthouses - appear to be sheds. The South West corner is labelled "Lawnsheds".
We are walking the South tip - with a choice of a 4 or 7 miler. At the decision point, our Millennium generation kids declare they have had enough desolation for one day.
Pre-lighthouse marker
Windswept on Portland
Tombstoning on Portland
More quarrying
There is a cafe back at the lighthouse - excellent scones, where an impossible to photograph dolphin provides some excitement. For one of the party, the first one spotted in the wild.
You've got until the end of the blog to guess what makes this memorial to George III, riding his horse Adonis, unique amongst the 16 figures carved into UK hills.
Hoping it's George's foot and not how Adonis was named
A Haven caravan holiday. There's something I never thought I would type. Arrive, painless check in, vague directions to find one tin-can in a field of 500 other tin-cans and spark up the GPS to check the lie of the land.
Built on the site of a Roman Temple. The old order changeth, yielding place to new. Once, the aristocracy were lounging in togas beside mosaic-festooned spa facilities, while the slaves got on with the actual work. Superseded by the next generation of slaves feeding endless two-pence pieces into cascade machines in the hope of winning a penny chew.
Today's walk is all about the White Horse. We climb the western side of the hill from pretty Sutton Poyntz - all thatched cottages and a gentle stream filling a duck pond next to a sturdy looking pub. Walk the ridge on what is marked on my aging OS Map as The South West Coast Path and then drop down to Osmington, without discovering what joys may be contained within. Some fine views of Portland Bill, which will tomorrow's walk.
On top of a White Horse
A simple walk, providing simple pleasures.
And the answer to the quiz? The only White Horse with a rider.
This month's History West Midlands Podcast is about Powick Hospital. Growing up in Worcestershire in the 70s, this was often referenced. Any odd behaviour, however mild, would be met with "You'll end up in Powick".
Interesting podcast. I had no idea of the scale or the fact that each authority was responsible for creating a "madhouse".
Powick Mental Hospital began life in 1852 as the Worcester City and County Pauper Lunatic Asylum, built as a direct consequence of the Lunacy Act and County Asylums Act of 1845. These Acts required counties and county boroughs to provide accommodation for paupers suffering from mental illness, rather than leaving them in workhouses or private madhouses. Worcester took a little persuading before finally agreeing to build its own institution at Powick, where the first patients arrived on 12 August 1852. Originally designed for around 200 patients, the asylum expanded considerably and eventually accommodated around 1,000. It later became Powick Mental Hospital and closed in 1989, with most of the complex subsequently demolished.
It would appear that a World In Action documentary in the sixties hastened its demise. The images in this YT video are from that programme.
A walk to determine if anything remains on the ground. This can be linked in to an investigation of St Peters and St Lawrence Church. No point going to the Medieval bridge. It's still awaiting repair, although (slow) progress is promised.
The Hospital
A little more research was completed. The Internet Archive, my new favourite resource for antiquated books, contains the annual reports from several years in the early 1900s.
The next page details mortality rates, escapees and how they were captured.
The bus stop is called Hospital Lane. The site was redeveloped extensively for housing (what else) after the hospital's closure. A load of photos from the early nineties at Geograph, where we have a candidate for first "urban explorer".
In the right place
The early photos show a massive rambling complex of buildings. Only one remains, the central office block, which has been repurposed as flats and offices.
The Church and Pub
Nothing else medical to explore, I focus my attentions on the English Civil War.
Powick found itself at the heart of the English Civil War on more than one occasion. In 1642, the first significant clash, the Battle of Powick Bridge, saw Royalist cavalry defeat a Parliamentarian force; nine years later, the village was again caught up in the Battle of Worcester, the final major battle of the war. The Red Lion, an early-17th-century building, is said to have been pressed into service as a hospital for wounded soldiers during the fighting. Meanwhile, the tower of St Peter and St Lawrence's Church provided the Royalists with a useful lookout, its elevated position giving a commanding view towards the bridge and surrounding countryside. Parliamentarian troops eventually fired on the tower to discourage its use, leaving the remarkable pockmarks and shot holes still visible in the stonework today. Archaeological research confirms Civil War musket and other shot in the vicinity, while studies of the tower suggest that at least some of the damage was caused by small-bore artillery rather than simply musket fire.
And I time things perfectly. Well sort of. The pub offers little hope - with midweek opening times at 3pm. The church is usually doors closed. But on a Thursday between 10am and midday, the volunteer ladies are doing a weekly clean and keen to allow a mooch around. Information boards on both the hospital and the war are on display.
Brick exterior of the pub covering up the original timber framing
Approach to Powick Church
Target practice on the south side of the tower
The Walk
A simple crossing of the Powick Hams, where I need to find elevated access to the Southern Relief Road to cross the Severn. Note to future self - as the map is unclear - an access road is available right next to the water. Then follow the river back into Worcester - spotting more Civil War information boards.
